Upon Stilted Cities - The Winds of Change

by Michael Kilman

  4.

  Daniels glared at Reevas. The Senator had not moved a single inch. She was watching him carefully; he could see the gears in her head turning, plotting her next move. She was a cold, calculating bitch, and he hoped that one day he had the honor of training her as a Runner. If she ever crossed too far over the line, he would see to her training personally.

  “What are you doing? Are you deaf? Get your ass in there and tell the Senate we have an emergency on our hands.”

  Tera opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again. She was grinding her teeth but didn’t say another word. She huffed at Daniels, spun and walked back through the Senate chamber door.

  Daniels, like any reasonable citizen of Manhatsten, hated dealing with the Senate. The Senate rarely read his reports, never listened to good advice, and often ignored hard-won intelligence. There were a few exceptions, such as Swanson and Lightfoot, but most Senators only responded if his information affected them personally.

  He thought they might listen this time. He just had to be sure to phrase it as a threat to their lavish and wasteful lifestyles. Then, and only then, could he get what he needed to keep the city safe.

  The Senate chamber doors parted and an aide, a young girl with curly brown hair, motioned Major Daniels to enter. Daniels walked up the long red carpet into the center of the room. He took his place in front of the podium. He was surrounded on three sides by the 17 senators, their aides, and their pages. Although there were only 17 Senators and 17 districts, there still was around a hundred people present.

  It was Senator Swanson who spoke up.

  “Major Daniels, you have some urgent news to report?”

  “Yes, Senator. There are several things to report, all of which I think are related to a potential attack on our city.”

  Mumbles filled the room. Swanson raised his hand, and there was almost instant silence.

  “Please continue, Major.”

  “Langeles has fallen." He waited a moment and let that sink in. Mutters, then the hand of Swanson raising to silence them. "I just received a report from Runner 17. He sent back images and data that confirm it. AI, display images 17-19382 through 17-19389.”

  The images illuminated the space. Sharp mumbles rose like an ocean wave and crested and crescendoed to a high point before Senator Swanson raised his hand a second time for silence.

  “Major, do we know the cause?” asked Senator Jode. Her sharp, dark eyes and square jaw were set hard in the dim light.

  “We are still accessing the data, but it seems clear based on the ruins and the pattern of bodies in the Barrens, whatever it was, was a complete surprise.”

  “An entire city, gone?” said Swanson, “We haven’t seen anything like this since...”

  “Since Mex, Senator.” Daniels finished for him. “I know it’s almost hard to believe, but I've transferred all the data and images to the Senate info sphere for your consideration.”

  Several members of the Senate pulled up the images and data on their tablets. Everyone in the room huddled around the closest screen they could find. Some of their eyes widened, and Daniels knew they were zooming in on the images, looking at the horrific detail that 17 had captured. He doubted that any of them had seen images from a fallen city. When Mex had fallen, there had been very little images or data and after the battles over the salvage. By the time Manhatsten arrived, the ruin had been picked clean.

  Daniels gave them a few more moments to absorb the news. He usually wasn’t one to manipulate, but he wanted the Senators, all the Senators, terrified. He wanted them to understand that here lay the fate of migration. He wanted their sleep disturbed, their eyes open at night, punctuated by dreams of their lives destroyed every time they slipped into unconsciousness.

  Daniels spoke into the dead silence, trying to break apart the terror in their eyes. “There's more.” Slowly, heads raised from the consumption of the images and all eyes fixed on Daniels. He paused again for effect. “There has been both a murder...” The AI, without any prompt, flashed the images from Patton’s gruesome murder for all in the hall to see. “... and an attempt on my life.” Behind Daniels, images of the aftermath of the explosion in central security lit the dim room. “I believe we have a saboteur among us, and I believe the saboteur is a traitor who has already infiltrated our ranks.”

  Daniels went into detail about the events that had brought him into the chamber, and most of the Senators listened with great interest and intent. Their eyes were wide, like children watching fireworks for the first time, excited and afraid. This was something new, something different, something the Senate had to make a real decision on. Daniels left out the images and the part about the letters C.O.G. carved in the dead man's forehead, he wanted to see if he could pull some information before he mentioned it.

  “Thank you for your report, Major Daniels. You have given us a lot to think about,” said Swanson.

  “Your honor, I have two requests today.”

  “Go on, though I think we know at least what one of your requests will be.”

  “The first one is that you allow me to arm the Runners and put them into active duty.”

  “How many Runners are we talking about here, Major?”

  “All of them.”

  “All of them?”

  “Yes, all of them. We don’t want to be caught with our pants down if another city shows up sooner than we expect, and I told you they already have Runners out scouting the area.”

  “I see; we will have to discuss the number we are willing to release. Do you know what other cities are nearby, Major?”

  “We were tracking the city of Saud within a few hundred kilometers, and there is another city about 1200 kilometers away, but even satellite imagery cannot guess which city it might be. My main concern is Saud; it’s unlikely a city 1200 kilometers away could get here before most salvage could be done.”

  “Thank you, Major. What is your second request?”

  “I am looking for information. Are any of you familiar with the abbreviation C.O.G.?”

  Daniels was reaching here; he knew it was unlikely that members of the Senate knew anything about the letters and the likelihood of one of the Senators was a traitor was next to none. They had everything to lose if something happened to the city, and say what you will about the Senate; they had a vested interest in maintaining their power. Much to Daniels’s surprise, someone shifted in their chair, and then after a moment, one woman stood up.

  Tall and beautiful, the woman had a kind of radiance to her that Daniels had always admired. Even at his age, even after swearing off women for several centuries, Senator Noatla Lightfoot made his heart beat a little harder than he was comfortable with.

  “Senator Swanson, I would like to be recognized.”

  “The Senate recognizes Senator Noatla Lightfoot of District 14,” Swanson answered.

  “Major Daniels. I think I may have an answer for you, but first I would like to ask where have you seen these letters?”

  Daniels weighed his answer carefully. If he gave too much away too quickly, he might lose valuable information. On the other hand, by not revealing the source of the information, the letters may have less relevance.

  “Let’s just say it surrounds the intelligence we got back from Langeles.”

  Senator Lightfoot shifted her weight but did not break eye contact. The stare gave him a chill, almost if she was reaching into him and looking for something. Daniels didn’t care for the hesitation.

  “You probably don’t know this Major, but I am the Keeper of the Keys.”

  Daniels interrupted, “My apologies Senator, the what?”

  “The Keeper of the Keys, it means she is the head librarian, you old goat,” replied Reevas, out of turn.

  Swanson shot Reevas an icy stare, and she closed her half-opened mouth and scowled at Daniels.

  “Yes, Major, I am the head librarian of the scholar school, and I am the head researcher of the histories of Manhatsten. I am also the current
president of the scholar school.” Daniels shuddered at the sound of her voice. It was smooth and silky. He felt himself sweating under the light. He reached up and wiped his brow.

  “I've seen your letters referenced in several of my texts concerning the early days of migration. There is only a handful of mentions of the letters together as an abbreviation in anything newer than three hundred years, and in fact, the final mention was during the fall of Mex, wherein the–”

  “Forgive me, Senator,” said Daniels. “But could you get to the point? There is much to be done.” He surprised himself at his own interruption.

  “Ah yes, sorry, I sometimes ramble. The letters stand for Children of Gaia. There was a suggestion in several texts that they were some sort of rebel protest group that was trying to end migration. In fact, there are a few mentions in the ancient texts that they had even attempted to stop migration in the first place before it was implemented. Their means were rather violent.”

  “Violent how?”

  “Well, it’s not entirely clear, but there seems to be suggestions in some of the ancient news clippings that they used explosives to disable the legs of some of the first cities. None were successful, since solidsodium is so strong, but it seems they had attempted to stop migration.”

  “Did it say what their motivations were?” Daniels asked.

  “There seemed to be a suggestion here or there that they felt human beings should be... well... extinct. A rather silly notion, since they themselves were human beings."

  This was troubling to Daniels. Could this... Children of Gaia be responsible for the fall of Langeles? An organization like that would be far more dangerous than another city. An organization like that would have no fear of death and have many means available to them to destroy cities.

  The worms were back, squirming through his guts. He liked none of this. His mind turned to the AI. Could the C.O.G. reprogram the AI and cause it to malfunction or worse, aid them? The engineers would need to set up extra protections for the central AI.

  “Thank you, Senator Lightfoot, I appreciate the information,” replied Daniels.

  “You are most welcome.” The senator took her seat again.

  “Senators, I have not been entirely honest with you. I withheld information about the crime scene. In fact, those letters were carved on Patton’s head.” The close-up images of Patton’s corpse flashed behind Daniels.

  Several loud murmurs began now, and Speaker Swanson was having trouble quieting them. The room felt... dense now, and even a quick glance to Senator Reevas revealed a deep fear and anxiety.

  “Before we go jumping to conclusions.” Swanson said loudly, “I think we had better access the facts. This could indeed be a cruel prank, or perhaps a twisted mind, Major Daniels?” There was pleading in his voice.

  “Senator Swanson is right. We can’t assume we have some terrorist organization running around the city. We have to be cautious,” said Daniels. Daniels wanted them pliable to his wishes, but he did not want outright panic. The last thing he wanted was people accusing one another of being a terrorist. The room quieted itself. All eyes were back on Major Daniels. They hinged on every word.

  “If you give me the resources I ask for, I can assure your safety. I have already placed security at checkpoints and entrances to the Uppers and Lowers throughout the city, but our worst-case scenario is that we may have to fight on two fronts. The first is this C.O.G., if there is such a thing, and the second may be another city looking for salvage in the ruins of Langeles.”

  “Have you sent a salvage crew to Langeles already?” said Senator Green.

  “No, I only just received the transmission from Runner 17 about thirty minutes before I came in here. And as I stated earlier, he spotted another city’s Runner. We don’t want to risk salvage vehicles if we know another city could be out any time now.”

  Green said, “Let’s not forget that last time we came near a fallen city you said that our system was down for ‘routine maintenance.’ I want to be sure this time we send out salvage crews before other cities do. I want you to claim the city, Major. Our Runner was there first, and we have every right to salvage the site.” There was contempt in that voice.

  “I'll be frank with you, Green, your profits aren't as important as the safety of this city."

  Green scowled but said nothing.

  "If we send in a salvage operation too early, we could lose the entire crew and equipment. And what good has claiming something in the Barrens ever done for a city? And what if this other city says their Runner was there first, huh? 17 saw him in the ruins, they may have arrived at the same time, or the other Runner may have been there first. I have 20 Runners on standby, ready to patrol the perimeter of the ruins, but we can’t risk salvage operation yet.”

  Green opened his mouth to continue the argument but Swanson quieted him.

  “Thank you, Major Daniels; we will have a decision on arming the Runnercore within the hour. We have several other important issues that need discussion first, however. You are dismissed, and thank you as always for all of your hard work.”

  Daniels exited the room and headed for the lift. There was no reason to wait around. He would know over his com line within fifteen minutes their decision about activating the Runnercore. He hated that he had to adhere to the Senate for large-scale use of the Runnercore. That limitation had been a reaction to his early widespread uses of the core. In those early days, the Senate had claimed that control of the entire Runnercore was too much power for one man and needed some oversight. They had limited his activation to twenty Runners without prior approval, and that allowed him to act without addressing the Senate on most days.

  He sighed and let out a heavy breath. There was much to do. First, he would stop by the architect’s lab and then he would have to head down to the docks.

  “AI.”

  “Yes, Sir?”

  “I want you to call every inspector we have available to the docks.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  There wasn’t much choice in trusting the AI with some things. There were too many inspectors to call or send messengers one by one and too little time. They needed those Runners up and ready by the day’s end. He knew Saud was doing something similar, and they didn’t have to go through an approval of a lousy Senate. Last he heard, Saud was a monarchy, and that had some decided advantages in preparation for battle.

  To Destroy A Walking City (II)

  In the beginning, only two things existed. The first was the darkness. The lack of light was oppressive and absolute. It filled every open space without exception. The second was pain. Something, maybe everything, was broken and torn. Pain and darkness, they married, molded and shaped his world. There was nothing more to consider; until there was.

  As the mind woke, other things took shape. Darkness became shadows, and hints of light seeped through cracks. Pain localized and the world took form.

  The battle was over. The building had fallen on him. The only thing that kept him alive was his EnViro suit.

  He tried to move, tried to swim through the debris of fallen Mex. With all his will and strength, he stretched and wriggled through the stones and concrete. The jagged edges pressed into him, inflicting sharp pains along his spine. Even the armor of his EnViro suit was not enough to hold back the pain, the pressure. There was blood; some of it his, some of it others’.

  Then, just as his will had weakened, he broke free, emerging upward with his arms. He pulled himself out of the rubble. He collapsed sideways and then rolled on his back facing upward. The only light was the full fractured moon and the pinpricks of the stars.

  He sipped rotten air through the cracks in his helmet.

  “A... I?” Each letter a battle.

  There was no response. It was likely his EnViro suit was far too damaged for the AI to function.

  He took long deep breaths. He waited for something to happen. There was nothing.

  Silence.

  Wind.

  Someh
ow it was worse than the screams.

  A whisper in the darkness, a single command hissed from the Earth itself. “Follow the shattered moon.” A feminine whisper. A seductive beckoning.

  With great effort, he lifted his body off the ground, stood, and brushed himself off. Why shouldn’t he obey? Mex, his home, was destroyed. His family? Dead a hundred years. His only choices were obey and follow the moon or lay here ‘til he die. He wasn’t sure he wanted to live, but then, he wasn’t sure he wanted to die, either.

  As he walked south and west, he noticed the air was still, and the imprints of his feet left definitive marks of his passing. The winds of change would erase his trail and with it, his past. He dragged one foot in front of the other.

  2.

  Roderick opened his eyes. The dream was always the same. She would never let him forget the night of his summoning. An endless reminder. It was only blackness or the dream with no variation for more than two centuries. It was maddening. Would he ever dream of anything else again? He thought he might after he finished the Great Mother's quest. A further incentive.

  The moon had led him from the ruins of Mex to the entrance of what would become Atlantis base.

  Another cycle. Here he was, outside the ruins of Langeles. Another ruin, another night, called by the Mother.

  He shivered. It was cold, damn cold. That was a bad sign. The damage to his armor must be worse than he thought. Chills racked his body, and he considered for a moment that perhaps infection had taken hold of his severed hand.

  The cave he had found shelter in had little light. Pulling supplies from his pack, he found the light he was looking for, hung it from an outcrop in the wall above him, and looked more closely at his suit.

  His heart sank. Little fractures had carved pathways and had spread further since last he looked. The suit was coming apart. No wonder he was so damn cold, the suit wouldn’t be able to maintain a comfortable temperature with this kind of damage. He wondered if the cracks were just in the plating or if it ran down to the exoskeleton.