by Jason Mather
“Can you locate Hans?”
He’s been stowed in one of the harem rooms on this floor, about a thousand yards from your location. There are two of the larger enemy pods making their way toward him as we speak. I am removing them.
“Get me there.”
Do you need assistance?
“Just directions.”
I’ll send a pod to lead you.
A small sphere rounded the corner in front of her, stopped, and gestured smoothly with one appendage. She followed.
The halls were scattered with bodies, man and machine, echoing with distant gunshots and screeching metal. Behind her the rest of the ceiling finally gave way, coming down in a crash of plaster and metal. She strode carefully, not wishing to run into an ambush. Her abdominal pain faded rapidly. There would be a vicious bruise.
Follow the leader carried on for a series of minutes, all the while the sounds of battle continued to fade around her. The pod stopped in front of an open doorway, buckled in slightly by whatever had torn it from its hinges. She could hear Hans yelling inside.
“Help me, goddamn it!”
She moved into the room, squinting at its garishness, and heard his voice through the doorway beyond.
“Hans?”
“Tell these things to help me.”
One of the larger pods lay, destroyed, on the floor next to the bed. Half a dozen or so of her own milled aimlessly about. Hans was crouching in the far corner by a section of the wall that had come down, pulling uselessly on a buckled door.
“Are you injured?”
Hans rounded on her, face burning. “Can you tell these things what to do?”
“Yes.”
“Then tell them to fucking help me.”
“We need to exit quickly.”
“There’s a girl buried in here.” He returned to his fruitless efforts.
“The whore?”
“She’s not a whore, she’s a twelve-year-old girl.”
“But you slept with her?”
“I didn’t, we, we watched a movie, I told her to hide, she … your fucking robots or whatever, they buried her. Help me get her out.”
“We can’t take her with us.”
“She’s coming.”
“She’s not.”
Hans stood up and stormed toward her. “Fuck you, fuck you all! How many people have died for this bullshit already? That girl in there had nothing, just a shit life as a sleazy old man’s fuck toy. You need me or you wouldn’t have brought me here. You want my help? Then help me pull her out. If she doesn’t come I’m done helping you.”
“What if she’s dead?”
“Then I’ll leave her body here. Please, Illiyana, we can’t leave her here. We can get her out, we can save her.”
“What about all the other girls?”
“I can’t save them all, up till now I haven’t been able to save anyone. I need to even the score. Please.”
Onyx could see the desperation in his eyes. He would be no good to her if she didn’t try to extract the body.
“Move the rubble.”
Done. Are you sure this is a good idea?
“We don’t have a choice.”
— «» —
Hans rode a tide of adrenaline, his focus narrowed to a spot about four feet in front of him, behind the rubble. He could almost see her in there. Bloodying his fingers on sharp rubble. Breathing dust and fear. Be OK, be OK, be ok.
At Onyx’s orders, the spheres swarmed in front of him, easily picking and removing fallen debris that had stuck fast. A gap appeared, widened, shrank slightly as it began to collapse again. A sphere positioned itself in the gap, holding floor and ceiling apart, a strange little Atlas. Others continued to clear. Hans’ attempts at helping merely slowed them down, so he held himself in check and waited. Finally, a piece of white terry cloth, dirtied by dust, showed through.
“There, dig there.”
They uncovered her, flinging debris back with uncanny accuracy, landing it neatly in a pile a few feet back. Her back was uncovered, then legs, neck, arms, head. Lorilei lay in a fetal position, arms covering her head, blanket grasped firmly between her legs. The spheres reached down to grasp her limbs, lift her out.
“No. Back up.”
They ignored him. He looked at Onyx. She murmured something and the spheres retreated.
Hans moved quickly, trying to see if anything was broken, rolling her gently on her back. Blood on her forehead, mouth slack, eyes turned in. He put his ear to her chest. Heart still beating, breath moving. Thank you. He removed her blanket from her legs, wrapped it around her as best he could, and bent down, straining to pick her out of the rubble without causing more injury. The second time he’d carried her like this, this time much more important. Hans turned to face Onyx.
“The pods could carry her much easier,” she said.
“No. No one touches her but me.”
“Come on then, we have to retrieve something, and then we’re getting out of here.”
“You didn’t get what you came for?”
“Brigham was more resistant than I would have liked.”
“Is he dead?”
“I’m not sure. He’s certainly not in good shape.”
“We need to get her looked at.”
“You’re not leaving without her, I’m not leaving without my property, and none of us are getting out of here if we don’t stick close.”
Hans didn’t argue, just gestured toward the door with Lorilei’s feet.
They returned to the throne room, where most of Onyx’s forces had gathered, madly dispersing the rubble. They had cleared the doorway, were in the process of cutting up and moving the rest of the pillar. A five-foot hole gaped in the floor, one whole wall nearly gone, and most of the ceiling collapsed in pieces or still coming down.
Hans could see sky through the wall. They were not extremely high off the ground, maybe a hundred feet. It looked like a crowd was gathering, but how could you tell in a place this crowded? There were no flashing lights or sirens yet.
Onyx’s troops were a marvel. He could see them bracing walls, shoring up ceiling and pillars, breaking and flinging rubble.
“What happened here?”
“Brigham had a few tricks I wasn’t expecting.”
“Such as?”
“No time now. My troops inform me that the item has fallen to the floor below.”
“So, we need to find an elevator.”
“No, we’re going down that,” she gestured to the hole.
“Did you bring some rope?”
“I need a ladder.”
Hans started to respond, but she wasn’t talking to him. A string of pods scrambled over each other into the hole. Nearing, he saw they had formed a mechanical centipede, two legs gripping each other, two legs jutting out at right angles. Problem solved.
“Handy little buggers. That thing safe?”
“As long as you hang on.”
“How’re we going to get her down there?”
“She’ll stay up here, protected by my troops. She’s safe, safer than you can make her. When we’re done we’ll climb back up and try the cars.”
Hans didn’t want to put the girl down, but he had no choice. These things had saved his life three times now; he would have to trust her to them.
— «» —
The floor below was far enough away that at first it was hidden. It was like descending into a cave. At least the makeshift ladder didn’t rock. Hans kept his eyes forward, studying the pods. Even from inches away their surface was completely uniform, no markings, no seams, not even any grime, just an expanse of bluish matte metal, the arms jutting out at the compass points, seamlessly bonded to the shell. They almost had to be mechanical, but their appearance was more crustacean than anything else.
“What the hell are these things?”
Onyx was just below him, pulling ahead slightly as she moved much more lithely into the darkness. Her response echoed from distant-sounding walls
.
“They’re my help.”
“What are they made out of?”
“That’s proprietary.”
“You ever thought of selling them?”
“No.”
He counted steps. At fifty-three his foot came to rest on hard floor. He felt slack in the makeshift ladder as the pods scrambled over one another to the floor around him. The scrabbling sound in the darkness was disconcertingly like large insects. Hans shivered slightly.
The dark was broken only by the hole above, its illumination sparse due to distance and angle.
“Why are all the lights off?”
“My troops destroyed the major power lines and generators.”
“Nice, how are we supposed to find what we’re looking for?”
“Lights, please.” A cold, septic glow grew around him on the floor. The pods had formed a lane from their position off into the dark, the glow from their bodies just enough to push the darkness back a few feet.
“How’d this thing get all the way over there?” he asked.
“One of Brigham’s soldiers made a run with it before my troops took him out.”
“How come they didn’t bring it back up themselves?”
“The shielding was damaged in the battle. It’s dangerous to them.”
“But not to us?”
“Not to you.”
“You sure about that?”
Onyx had started down the makeshift landing strip. Hans didn’t follow. She faded into gray. Something crashed down in another part of the building, the distant rumble sending dust down the meager shaft of light.
“Hey,” he followed quickly, “do you know what this room is for?”
“Not a clue,” Onyx’s voice was surprisingly distant. Hans picked up the pace, seeing her shadow now. As far as he could tell the whole room around them was empty, and he had the sense of vast space, darkness covering everything but their self-lit corridor. Hans had no significant fear of the dark, but here it was overwhelming. Stay calm, take a breath, put a foot down, repeat. He nearly bumped into the back of Onyx when she stopped.
“It’s up ahead,” she said.
“Well, go get it then.”
“I can’t. I need you to.”
“Don’t think so.”
“You’re the only one who can.”
“You keep saying that. What’m I, the fucking Chosen One?”
“If you wish.”
“Look, lady, if you want my help then stop being so damn enigmatic. This thing is dangerous to you, your super crabs, and everyone else, yet you want me to go pick it up. You want my help, give me answers.”
“You’re a rare specimen, Hans.”
“So my mom keeps telling me.”
“You have absolutely no electronic or bionic modifications of any kind. You’ve even destroyed your internal ID chip. The item is dangerous to anyone with those modifications, but harmless to a pure organic specimen. You should be able to carry it with no ill effects.”
“Should?”
“You lost it for me once, Hans. You said you wanted to make reparations, were even willing to die. Are you going to prove yourself a coward now?”
Hans bridled a bit at that. “I’m not a coward, just not sure throwing myself away right now would do anyone any good.”
“I have been straight with you since the beginning, Hans. I’m telling you it will be fine. Retrieve my item and I will be grateful and consider your debt paid. I will help you get your little girl out of here safely.” Onyx removed a piece of cloth from a hidden pocket and handed it to Hans. “It’s a small black sphere, about two inches across. Just pick it up and wrap it in this cloth and bring it back to me.”
Hans took the cloth. He wasn’t sure how straight Onyx had really been, but he needed to get Lori out of here. He had to try for her sake.
The sphere was not difficult to find. It had rolled up against a far wall. He approached cautiously, wary of anything abnormal it might do. It just looked like a paperweight or large marble, though its surface reflected no light. He crouched next to it, passing a hand near, feeling feebly for any electrical field or heat. Nothing. He placed a finger gingerly on its surface. Slightly rough, cool to the touch. It felt exactly like one of Onyx’s pods. He covered it with his hand. Still nothing. Its heft was slightly more than he expected, but there was no reaction. Still, he was careful not to drop it or jostle it too much. He wrapped it in the cloth she had given him, shoving it in an inside jacket pocket, not wishing to touch it for too long.
A boom echoed from the other side of the room, followed by sounds of large metal feet. One of Brigham’s remaining metal soldiers had found them.
The lights went out, and Onyx’s troops went to meet their enemy.
— «» —
Hans crouched up against the wall, straining to see in the impenetrable black. The sounds of engagement echoed across the hall.
“Illiyana!?”
“Here.” Her voice was in front of him, footsteps moving near. “Do you have the sphere?”
“Yes.” His eyes had adjusted just enough to make out the distant high glow of the hole in the roof. “Do we make a break for it?”
“No.” Her voice very near him now. “We find shelter while my troops handle the situation.”
A loud crash filled the room, light greatly increasing thanks to the new hole in the ceiling. Hans saw one of the larger machines laying on the floor nearby, struggling to rise under the swarm of pods. It managed to get its feet under it and fling away a couple of the pods, then took a step in Hans’ direction, was swarmed by reinforcements, and forced back to the floor.
“There are three in the room and a few more on the way. There’s a large packing container nearby. We should try to get inside.”
Hans didn’t argue. Onyx set off to his right, he followed closely. The roar of fighting increased, spurring them on. More of the roof came crashing down.
“Your troops are going to get us killed.”
“Brigham’s machines are trying to cave the roof in. My forces are trying to prevent it, but we need to get somewhere protected so they can dig us out if things go badly.”
That did not sound pleasant. Hans could just make out a large box-like shape a few dozen feet ahead, probably a truck trailer. Creaks and groans of overextended steel were sounding above, and something hit the wall a few feet behind them. Onyx moved to the side, Hans crowding in behind her. They’d lucked out and gotten to the side with the doors. A lock rested against the door.
“Can you pick that or something?” he asked.
“No, it responds to the user’s ID tag.”
The roof across the room gave way, its trip to the floor deafening. The light was coming in well enough to silhouette numerous struggles. The room itself was not as big as he’d imagined, its space almost completely empty except for the crate.
“The girl’s up there. We have to go back.”
“The pods have extracted her, she’s as safe as I can make her.”
A pod crawled over the top of the container, crab-walking down toward them, stopping by the latch, two tendrils gripping body and bar. The lock fell into two pieces. Onyx heaved the door open and stepped in. Hans hesitated. More unwelcome dark. Another piece of the ceiling crashed behind him, too close. He entered.
— «» —
Onyx slammed the door and turned the latch. Fat lot of good that would do if one of those things wanted in. Hans backed up against the near wall, which was padded with heavy foam, greatly muffling the sounds from outside. Debris struck the roof, sounding distant. Claustrophobia tugged at him. Breathe in, breathe out, relax, stay calm.
Onyx moved past him, further into the container, her boots pinging against the metal floor. Something hit the side, raining dust into his hair.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“I’m curious what Brigham is storing in here.”
“I’m curious if this thing is going to stop the ceiling from crushing us.”
Much better, as it turned out. Armageddon sounded from outside, and something landed on the crate hard enough the metal creaked and buckled. It held, but bent further as it was hit again. Hans held his breath. For a man with a death wish he was continually surprised by his urge to survive. The whole crate tilted slightly, slid a few feet, then he felt a momentary sense of weightlessness before the end crashed back to the ground. Still it held.
Onyx returned, crouched beside him.
“Find anything?” Hans asked.
“You don’t want to know.”
“You’re right, don’t tell me.”
“Bodies.”
“I told you not to tell me.”
— «» —
One last crash, the whole world caving in. Hans strained his ears, thought maybe he could hear the sound of more debris falling, but couldn’t be sure it wasn’t imagination. He was glad for the dark. His claustrophobia would be worse if he could see his predicament. He tried not to think about the bodies.
“My troops have finished up top,” Onyx said, “We’re completely buried. It will be a short time before they can dig us out.”
“How long?”
“Maybe ten minutes.”
Breathe in, breathe out, don’t think about the bodies. Breathe in, breathe out, don’t think about the bodies.
“Are you ok?” she asked.
“Do you really care?”
“Is it so hard to believe I might?”
“Somewhat difficult, yeah.”
“Forget I asked then.”
“Done.”
They sat, the silence growing, creeping in, cementing itself between them, becoming impenetrable. He continued with his mantra. Breathe in, breathe out…
Onyx spoke again, “They should have us out of here soon.” She was trying to be reassuring. It didn’t work well for her. Hans could hear the edge in her voice. Still, she was trying.
“Why Onyx?”
“Hmm?”
“Why Onyx? How did you come up with that moniker?”
“I needed an alias, it sounded appropriate.”
“Why’d you need an alias?”
“To protect me from old enemies.”
“Did it work?”
“Mostly.”