by J. C. Staudt
What I had mistaken for distant thunder was actually the sound of exploding shells. The Civil Regency Corps had arrived; Admiral Pearson and his entire fleet. The battle had begun. We were on a Maclin ship, and we were flying right into the middle of it.
Orange fireballs blossomed ahead of us and died in the rain. Beehive rounds screeched through the sky and swarmed over the hulls of unsuspecting sloops and clipper ships. The Admiral would die regretting his decision, I knew, even if he didn’t know it yet himself. I gave the command to fly low over the city and stay near the skyline. With luck, Maclin’s artillery emplacements would cover our advance until we got through what was left of the CRC fleet. It was still raining heavily, but we were on the back end of the storm now, and the clouds that gave us cover would soon dissipate.
The Civs seemed determined to knock out the gun emplacements and grav platforms, even if it meant dealing collateral damage to the city. Their bombs began to fall in every square and intersection where a Maclin battery could be found, even as the flaming wrecks of their disabled ships drifted into buildings and splintered apart. The few CRC transport carriers that landed in the streets found themselves besieged, battle-ready marshals spilling through their doors only to find death at the hands of the waiting automatons.
As for us, our portly vessel waddled toward the Civvy blockade like a guilty child awaiting punishment. Ezra bluewaved the Admiral’s ship and handed me the comm.
“Identify yourselves,” came the voice of the radioman.
“This is Captain Mulroney Jakes with a message for Admiral Pearson,” I said.
A pause. “Go ahead.”
“We have a number of Maclin’s key leaders in custody, as well as the Regent himself and his family. I suggest the Admiral abort this attack immediately to prevent further casualties.”
Another pause, longer this time. “One moment.”
The line fell to static for an agonizing few seconds, during which I was sure someone from one side or the other was going to open fire and blow us out of the sky. When the static finally buzzed into a human voice again, it was the Admiral himself.
“Yes… this is Randolph Pearson. Am I to believe you’ve made hostages of both the Regent and Maclin’s executives? State your intention, or I’ll personally see to it that you and your crew are hunted down and hanged for this treason.”
“Whoa, whoa,” I said. “Calm down there, big fella. The Regent and his family are not our hostages. We rescued them. Let’s be clear on that. I’ll hand them over as soon as you put a stop to all this war nonsense.”
“I’m afraid we’ve come too far for that now. The seat of the High Regent must be won back at all costs.”
I brought the comm close to my lips. “Did you not just hear me say the Regent and his family are safe aboard my ship? You have no reason to attack the city anymore.”
“Maclin still has an army, and that army must be defeated. Reclaiming the throne is my duty as a servant of the Regency. None who stand in my way will be given quarter.”
I wanted to call him a pig-headed law-lover and hang up. I had no problem with sending the Admiral and his lackeys to their own deaths and wishing them godspeed while they were at it. If they’d been fighting an aerial battle over empty space, I wouldn’t have hesitated to do so. But there was a city full of Roatheans down there who hadn’t asked for this. Just like I didn’t want the Regency interfering with my life, I’d wager a guess that they didn’t either. Especially if it resulted in their deaths.
No, I decided, I’m not just going to fly away and let these boneheads bring devastation upon themselves. I’m going to make my stand here, in the thick of things. I’m going to keep this ship right where it is until Admiral Pearson either listens to me or blows us out of the sky. “Would a direct order from the Regent himself convince you to stop?” I asked. “Would that make you give up this warmongering and go home? Here, give me just a second.” When I called downstairs, Thomas picked up.
“Yes?”
“Send the Regent up to the bridge as soon as possible,” I said.
“Is something the matter?”
“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but there are a bunch of robots blowing people up. People who are having difficulty staying not-blown-up. Other than that, no, everything’s fine.”
“I’ll have him sent up immediately,” Thomas said dryly, and hung up.
I was deciding how to ask the Regent whether he’d entertain the idea of calling off the attack when there was a noise. A rumbling in the floor, as if someone had stuffed a sack of bricks into one of the engines. “What is going on down there?”
“I’ll check it out,” said Blaylocke, taking up his rifle.
Before he could leave the bridge, the left-hand door blew off its bottom hinge and curled up like a burning leaf. A robot stepped through the flames and bashed the door clear across the room, where it struck the console and delivered a shower of sparks. Blaylocke raised the rifle and spat fire without asking questions.
The robot stomped forward, lifting its own weapon. But Blaylocke’s plasma rounds—or whatever they were—opened craters in the robot’s body, one after the other. Chest, stomach, hip, leg. When it motioned to take its next step, the leg bent backward at the knee and tucked itself in like a bird in flight. The robot leaned forward and crashed to the deck.
Evelyns poured into the room, faster than Blaylocke could keep up with them. He downed the first two, but the third sent a laser bolt searing toward him. I heard it sizzle to rest in his gut, saw him drop to his knees and fall over.
I fumbled for the remote and mashed the button. “Evelyn, stop.”
The robots halted where they were and straightened. Chaz rushed to Blaylocke’s side and rolled him over. The wound looked bad. I would’ve guessed it wasn’t lethal, but then again, Blaylocke was a primie.
“Evelyn,” said a monotone electric voice. “Enter the bridge and detain all non-Maclin personnel.”
The robots churned into motion again, heading for the console and the row of chairs positioned along its length, in which Chaz, Ezra, Sable, and Thorley were sitting. My thoughts went to the others, who were spread throughout the ship attending to various duties. I saw Jawhead step through the doorway, followed by a few of his compatriots and several operatives.
“Evelyn, stop.” I repeated the command through the remote. Again, the robots ceased.
“This is all very entertaining, Mr. Jakes. This back and forth between us.”
“My idea of entertainment is you not escaping the brig and using my Evelyns against me,” I said, backing toward the console.
“I hope you intend to turn this vessel around immediately,” said Jawhead, in his typical ‘ignore-everything-Muller-says’ style. “Otherwise, stand aside.”
“Stand aside? I’d gladly pay ten chips just to see some of you geezers try to stand.”
“Evelyn, detain Muller Jakes.”
“Evelyn, stop,” I said, barely giving him time to finish.
“Enough of this,” he said, his metal-bound face reddening.
“What are you going to do? Give the robots another command I can stop?”
“Captain Jakes, are you there? What’s that happening aboard your vessel?” Admiral Pearson’s voice boomed through the comm speakers.
I’d sort of forgotten he was still on the line. “Yeah, I’m here. Everything’s under control. We just need to sort something out, and I’d like to do it while things aren’t exploding everywhere. Any chance you could let us through the blockade?”
“Not while the Regent is in your custody,” said the Admiral. “You won’t be allowed to leave Roathea until you’ve returned him safely to us.”
“Seriously, I already told you you’re not getting the Regent unless you stop the battle.”
“In that case, Captain Jakes, I hereby declare you an enemy of the Regency.”
I laughed out loud, keeping an eye on Jawhead as I spoke to the Admiral over my shoulder. “I don’t know who you’re trying to imp
ress. I’ve been declared an enemy of the Regency more times than I can count. I’ve got a list of crimes longer than all the stupid laws your heavens-forsaken Regency forces us to live by. I’ve never let those laws get in my way, and I don’t intend to start now.”
“Then as an agent of our foe, I charge you with obstruction, contempt, and kidnapping. Prepare for war, Captain Jakes.” Admiral Pearson ended the call.
“What a sack,” I shouted, loud enough for every silent, listening person in the room to hear. If I’d had a spare fist with which to punch something in my rage, I would’ve.
“The palace is your only refuge, Mr. Jakes,” said one of Jawhead’s cohorts, an oldster with half his forehead covered in the elaborate trappings of a bionically enhanced right eye.
“Oh it is, huh? Well you can shut up and keep your opinions to yourself. No one asked you.”
“We will all die together unless you return to the palace,” said Jawhead.
“Stop talking to me,” I said. “I hate everything that comes out of your stupid face. We make our stand here—with the Regent’s permission, or without it.”
Then, as if on cue, Max rushed through the right-hand door in answer of my summons. A summons I’d sent several minutes ago, when things on the bridge had been very, very different.
“Evelyn. Kill Maxwell Baloncrake,” shouted Jawhead.
“Oh, give me a break. Evelyn, stop…”
If robots could understand confusion, the Evelyns would’ve been too confused to. They stutter-stepped and buzzed like green recruits too nervous to remember which way was up. Meanwhile, I tucked the remote control unit under my arm, walked over to Jawhead, and punched him in his ugly metal chin. He dropped like sixty pounds of raw meat. Give or take a few pounds.
“Anybody else got anything stupid they want to say?” I asked the crowd of synod members and operatives armed with scissors, spatulas and rolling pins.
Before anyone could demonstrate their stupidity, the ship quaked. There was a deep roaring sound, followed by a long, high-pitched scraping.
“The Admiral is shooting at us while the Regent is on board? Really? Who put this guy in charge?” Probably the Regent, I realized.
Thorley spoke up from the control console. I don’t know where he learned to use any of that high-tech equipment, but he only had to take one brief look at the screen in front of him before he said, “We’re not being shot at, Cap’n. We’re being boarded.”
10
“Worst day of my life,” I said, although that wasn’t entirely true. “Alright, Jawhead, things have changed.” I realized I had never called him Jawhead before; I didn’t even know the guy’s name. In fact, I didn’t know if anyone in the synod had a name, or if they were all so old they’d just started referring to themselves collectively in the third person. “The Civs are here. I need the robots. You need a snot-rag for that bloody nose. We both need to live. Or rather, I need to… you want to. For some reason. So you have my word that if you help me fight off the Civs, I’ll drop you back at the palace the first chance I get.”
Jawhead winced, as if the single blow I’d struck him had thrown off his whole week. “What’s the word of a traitor worth?”
“Not much,” I said. “Which is about all the choice you have at the moment.”
“Very well,” he said. “I command the automatons to victory… you release us.”
“What are we standing around for? Get out there and give ‘em the business end.”
I could already hear grapnels and electromags attaching themselves to the hull as Max and I left the bridge and descended the interior steps toward the lower deck.
“What did you call me up there for?” he asked, following close on my heels. “Decided to turn me over to Maclin after all, did you?”
“Back when I called you, the synod hadn’t escaped yet. I was on the bluewave with Admiral Pearson. He won’t call off the attack.”
“Nor should he.”
“You still want the Civs to fight, even knowing they’ll lose?”
The Regent cleared his throat. “Without my throne, I’m nothing. It’s all I’ve ever known. Ruling is what I was raised to do. If I don’t have that, how can I live as anything else?”
“Plenty of people leave positions of power and go on to live normal lives.”
“Like who?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. “I can’t think of any specific examples. But I’m sure people have done it.”
“No, Mr. Jakes… I’m afraid this fight must go on. The Regency is the only thing in this world that’s worth saving. And anything worth saving is worth dying for.”
“I’d save half a sandwich before I’d die for it,” I said. “There are a few people on this cruiser I’d do anything to save, though.”
“Save who you must, then. I shall do the same.” The Regent tried to move past me, but I drew the revolver and leveled it at him.
“I can’t let you do that until you order Admiral Pearson to get his men off this ship.”
Max scoffed. “You know as well as I do that the Admiral won’t give up until my family and I are safe. We’re both also aware that your weapon is loaded with non-lethal ammunition. So unless you intend to wrestle me to the ground with one arm, I suggest you stand down.”
Max was right. What could I do? I was disabled, bleeding, and out of pulser rounds. Even if the gun hadn’t been empty, there was no way I could hold him back in the state I was in.
Lowering the revolver, I slid back against the wall and let the Ruler of the Whole Wide World jog past me and disappear around the corner, headed toward the stairs. It was about time I set my sights on more important matters than trying to change the minds of idiots destined for their own peril.
When I got back to the bridge, Jawhead and all his friends had gone up top to rid the ship of its encroaching law-lovers. “Radio ship-wide,” I said. “Tell the whole crew to get to the bridge. I want everyone here for this. Everyone who matters, at least.” I knelt and took Blaylocke’s flecker sword, the one Baron Bert had so graciously allowed me to steal without his permission. “How’s he doing?” I asked.
Chaz gulped. “He’s in a lot of pain. Aside from that, I can’t really tell.”
“You’re going to have to fly this thing for me in a minute,” I said.
“I’ll fly,” said Sable, coming over to us. “Muller, you have that look like you’re about to do something crazy.”
“You know me too well,” I said. “The Civs have us tied down with electromags. I’m going to go cut us free.”
“Please be careful.”
“You tell me to be careful all the time,” I said. “Do I ever listen?”
“I said please this time.”
“You’re very polite.” I kissed her on the forehead, then started toward the doorless left-hand hatch. I stopped, turned around. “Oh, and one more thing… when Thomas gets here, clap him in irons.”
Thorley, Sable and Chaz all stared at me. No one asked why, but they were all wondering it.
“Isn’t it obvious why?” I said. “He’s the one who freed the synod.”
When I emerged onto the outer deck, everyone was killing each other. Robots were shooting Civs. Civs were shooting operatives. Operatives were attacking Civs with kitchen utensils, and members of the synod were running around—or hobbling, or rolling—trying to hide behind cargo crates and wind cages. There were so many boarding lines between the Highjinks and the Admiral’s vessel that the ships looked like two halves of something warm and cheesy that had just been pulled apart.
I began working my way from one end of the deck to the other, hacking through each line as I came to it. The grapnel ropes were easy; the cables tied to the electromags required some extra hacking. I passed a Civvy on his way across a boarding plank. I kicked it aside and watched its occupant tumble through the gap between the two ships and disappear into the night-bound city.
When I came to the next plank, a marshal had just come across and
seemed intent on stabbing the next thing he could reach with his bayonet. I swatted the weapon away with my sword and countered with a lunge. My blade drove through his ribs and sent him staggering backward. When he caught his balance, I pulled out and shouldered him over the railing on my way toward the final electromag.
The Regent and his family emerged from the forward hatch. His wife was carrying their two youngest children while he spread his arms to shield the older two. They made their way through the rain-soaked fray until a marshal noticed him and hurried to his aid. Jawhead noticed the Regent at the same time. Somehow I heard the cyborg give the order above the din, as if there were no other sound in the world. The remote was in my pocket, the flecker sword in my only good hand, and a marshal with intent to do harm coming toward me.
The Regent had attracted a small escort by the time he reached the nearest boarding plank. He started across toward the Admiral’s ship as the Evelyns drew beads on him, the wet plank slippery beneath his feet. My attacker thrust in with his bayonet. I parried. He thrust again and fired a laser bolt that seared past my right shoulder. His next thrust was sloppy and rushed; I sidestepped it and cut a deep slash across his arm, dismantling his grip on the rifle.
I couldn’t very well sheathe the flecker sword in my armpit, so I flung it at him and pulled out the remote. “Evelyn, stop.”
The robots went still. A dozen Civvy marshals got in their last hits before pausing in surprise. Crap, that wasn’t what I wanted. “Evelyn, kill the Civvy marshals.”
The battle resumed. I watched the Regent take his next few steps across the plank. Then the Highjinks groaned like an empty stomach. The ship began to tilt sideways, snapping the last electromag line.
On the gangplank, Maxwell Baloncrake faltered, then caught his balance. Before anyone could react, the plank slid off the deck of our listing vessel, and the Regent plummeted out of sight. His wife screamed as the Highjinks peeled away from the Admiral’s ship and began a slow descent. People were losing their footing while robots stomped across the deck and fell over. I let the momentum carry me toward the hatch, tucking the remote under my left arm and grabbing the doorframe with my right as I slid past it. I managed to hook one leg around it and pull myself inside.