Spear's hand reached up pushed aside the small cutting tool that hung around his neck. His fingers gently squeezed the tooth that she had given him. Somehow the wire had held steady during the fight.
He wondered what the Water Carrier would think of him after this. Would she be appalled? Would she ever smile at him again?
“You really should get up,” a disembodied voice chimed.
Spear launched himself to his feet; His hands clenched fists. He still wouldn't allow himself to be recycled for parts. He turned looking for his attacker
“Over here,” the voice called out again. It was feminine, but that didn’t mean much. Cruelty seemed equally distributed among the units who lived in the wild regardless of gender.
“C’mon, before more show up!”
Spear walked towards the sound of the voice. Where was she?
“To your left,” she called out.
Closing the distance he scanned the ground back and forth for an attacker, wondering if he should rush into the treeline to gather his thrown spear.
A macabre display of paint and imagery was drawn on a large boulder. Spear hadn’t seen the back side of it until now. Chained, upside down, was the torso and head of a female unit.
“Look, cut me down, take me to the witch, and I’ll make sure it's worth your while. I’m good for it.”
Spear cocked his head, in fact, he bent at the waist and turned his head upside down to get a look at her through his working eye. Inverted he could see that her body type was exactly like his, except without limbs.
“My name is Iris, like the flower. Granted, right now I don’t look very pretty, but I’m sure that once we get me back on my feet, you will see… Get it? 'Back on my feet'?” She rolled her eyes at him.
Spear stood up straight and could only wonder why the limbless torso and head was so chipper at her situation.
“Look, they have had me here draining for at least a month. You’re lucky they didn't do the same to you. I don’t know if you killed all of them, but you should cut me down and take me with you.”
Spear shook his head, turned and walked into the trees to look for his weapon. Frustrated, he wondered if she was just another trap. Maybe they were fixing her. Maybe she was just going to try and use him, or kill him for his parts like everyone else he met. Spear pushed through the bushes and bent down to look through the underside.
“Come on! Seriously! Those guys were asses. I mean seriously damaged jerks! You seem like a nice guy. Cut me down at least. Maybe I can crawl home.” Her voice was carrying. She would bring more of the deviant units. They seemed to be prolific in these parts.
A shine of metal caught his eye, and he smiled, reaching into the greenery. His hand wrapped around the familiar metal pole. Pulling it out, he hefted it and checked for any damage. The end was dull, and as he walked he sharpened it further with the cutter.
Spear walked back to Iris and studied her. Standing in front of her, he wondered how she had gotten there. Spear wished he could ask questions, but his voice was gone. Sitting down on a rock, he scrutinized her and pondered what his next move would be.
“You look like you’re having second thoughts. I mean about cutting me down. I can see that. Not everyone is as brave as you are… or as kind… or as charming… Did I mention you are kind of cute?”
He glared at her and leveled the spear.
“Okay, look. At this point, I am willing to do anything to get out of here. Please its been a month of pure torture.”
Spear looked around. These units had been set up here for a long time. There were piles of parts strewn about that he barely recognized. His mind wondered if there was anything to gain from what had been scavenged, or if it was even right to take things that were left here by the dead.
“…upside down, with no legs or arms, tied to a rock! They kept feeding me so I can make more gel.
His face snapped back to her. Feeding? His face a question.
“Yes!” she smiled, nodding her head, “I make the gel. See!” She turned her head and showed a welded circle that seemed to allow a hose of sorts to be attached, “Take as much as you need! I mean… don’t kill me. Maybe only a little. I’m kind of dry. They forget to give me water.”
He shook his head and pointed to his abdomen.
“Oh, food, yeah it's over there. In the leather bag,” her head nodded sideways, “By the table.”
Spear stood up, practically ran to the table, searching for the bag. The animal hide had been stitched into a crude bag with the fur scraped away. His hands tore it open. Inside were little white dry cubes. Not nutrient cubes. These were white. The nutrient cubes were purple.
Looking at her he retraced his steps and held one out giving her a skeptical look.
“What? It's not poison if that's what you mean! Seriously, feed me one. If I don’t die, you take one. In fact, I’m a little low on energy right now. It’s a hard life being a gel bag.”
Spear tentatively touched the release on her abdomen, and pushed the cube up and inwards before closing it.
“I was going to mention that you seem like someone who acts more than talks. I like that in a prospective partner. Strong. Lethal. Silent…”
Spear stepped away and dropped his hands, shaking his head. She was trying ever trick in the book to get him to let her down.
“Ahh, I see why you are so quiet. Such a lovely hole you have in your voice box. Did you run into some crazies too? Trust me there are lots. Now, since I am not dead, and you are likely going to use that nutrient cube, how about you cut the chains? Huh?”
Spear sat on a nearby stone and opened his abdomen, tossing the cube in. He could feel it melt across his insides, and immediately strength began to come back to his body. The calming effect wasn’t there. He had expected the happy feeling that everything was all right. It had been a very violent, confusing last few days, but he remembered when he consumed the Master’s nutrient cubes that he would always be happy afterward.
Gritting his jaw he wondered if Three-One had been right. Maybe there was something in the nutrient. Then again, his friend tried to poison him with the gray organic matter.
“Please. Please cut me down,” there was pure desperation in her voice now, “I don’t want to die here.”
Spear had that same thought a few times while working the clearings and finding the plants to root out. His mind popped back to five-four-nine and how she had begged like that. She had begged just like that, and the cruel Master had killed her just for her parts. Just like these defects were doing.
He stood, and grabbed the hook that looped around her pelvis, and removed it in one clean motion. It took both of his hands to turn her upright and lean her against the rock. Her eyes rolled in her head.
“Whoa, I had been upside down for so long it was starting to feel normal. Everything feels weird. I’m going to need a second or two.”
Spear got a good look at her. All of her limbs and most of her parts had been stripped. At least the ones that were not directly related to her survival. Her soft face was still intact but badly damaged. It looked like she had been burned, and judging from the pattern, a few times.
“If you take me to the witch, I can help you… Well, she can. She is mostly stable… Well… somewhat. I think it's because she has some filter, and can manage the gel better than our version.”
He looked at her quizzically.
“It's a two day’s walk down the trail, I will get that wonky eye, and that voice box of yours fixed. All expenses paid. No catch. You just have to get me to the witch.”
Spear shrugged and pretended to carry something and walk. His face indicated to her that he thought it was a ridiculous idea.
“Yeah, you’re not going to carry me. There’s a harness that they used to drag me around in. I don’t like it, but it’s the best way, and besides, I can watch your back.” Her chipper attitude was starting to wear on him.
Helping her was the right thing to do, and pursuing the idea he might be a
ble to get a new voice seemed like it was worth the effort.
Rubbing his forehead, he stood to collect the metal harness from next to the work table. He was beginning to understand why the psychotic unit he had met a few days ago, had cut out his voice box for asking too many questions.
It was going to be a long walk, but now at least he had something to gain. Maybe the inkling of a friend.
“That’s the spirit!” she cheered seeing him come back with the carrying harness.
He shook his head. It was going to be a long road indeed.
Chapter 20
“You know, if you turn me around, I can be more help. I promise I won’t yell in your ear,” Iris said strapped to his back. Her metal torso was light, and she was good at keeping her head from banging his, but constant talking was wearing thin. “Come on. Please. I’m getting ill watching behind you. I just want to see where we are going. Please!” The pleading in her voice was irritating and the repetition over the last few hours was incessant.
Spear shook his head signaling that he was not convinced, and she saw the motion out of the corner of her eye.
Pouting, she dropped her head. Spear could feel the lolling motion caused by the weight of Iris's head swinging as she just looked at the ground in a pout. The movement was subtle for a bit, but his guilt eventually flared, and he stopped. Swinging her off his shoulders, Spear lowered her to the ground face first. Her head turned sideways, and he could see her grinning wildly at being allowed to see ahead of them.
He rolled her onto her back.
She smiled up at him, “Thanks!.”
He held a finger up to his mouth, and she clamped hers shut, nodding. The smile was still there on the verge of laughing. He wondered if she was mentally damaged like the rest. Every unit he had met so far was unstable and violent. He considered for a moment that she might be a lost cause also.
Would she turn on him once she got what she wanted? Spear examined the idea that she might be a threat, but for now, aside from talking him to death, she seemed less than harmful.
He was in no position to be picky. He had one eye, a bent arm, and no voice. At best she might lead him to someone who could fix him, but at worse he would still be in the same situation he was in right now.
Wrapping the straps around her body, he could see the burn marks from where they cut off her limbs. They were somewhere in the scrap pile, and despite his efforts in digging them out, she had told him not to bother.
His hands inspected her damage.
“I fell into a pit. The one in the tunnel that you somehow got by. I broke my leg. I missed most of the spikes, though,” Iris's face grew grim.
Spear knelt over her and listened to her story. He wanted to know how she had arrived at her predicament. Perhaps some part of the tragedy might help him avoid his own.
“It took me hours to pull myself off the spikes. They hooked me pretty good. It’s my fault. I shouldn't have gone in there without a light. I thought I would just walk a short distance to see if there was a way through. I didn't want to go back past the piles of dead units. I just was more worried about being caught by the scrappers, than what was in the dark.”
Spear shook his head. He wanted to so badly tell her that she was lucky she didn’t get to the deadfall that would have crushed her.
“Well, anyways; The worst part was trying to get out of the pit. It was too tall. They had done a good job making the sides smooth, and I couldn’t stand up very well. I must have sat in the dark for a four or five days. I was so exhausted from calling out that when they showed up and reached down to help me, I thought that I was saved.”
Spear shook his head again, listening intently.
“They pulled me out and had me on the ground in the dark. I can remember when the cutter started, and the light on the walls. The piles of others like me. I tried to fight, but there were four of them. They held me down as they cut my arms off. They just took me apart as though I wasn't even alive... Like I was parts.”
Spear touched his head and pointed to the port that had been crudely welded to her forehead.
“That hurt a lot. I’ve never felt pain like that before. They cut me open but kept me alive. I must have gone offline for a while, because when I came back I was hanging upside down, and my face was dripping.”
Spear shrugged, asking why?
She frowned at him, “You’re not from this side of the tunnel are you?”
He shook his head and pointed back from where they had come.
“There’s nothing beyond the tunnel. The trail ends at another collapsed tunnel. Did you come from across the river?“
He smiled and nodded.
“How did you get across? Do you float?” She craned her neck to get a look at him.
Spear shook his head and held one hand out like a shelf, and walked his fingers off the shelf, showing them land. He moved his hand over hand showing his crawl to the shore.
“Wow… Really?” her face was lit up, “I’ve never met anyone from anywhere further than the city. I met a unit once from a place called--”
Spear tapped her forehead again to direct the conversation back to the threats he might find here. The description of the rest of the known world could wait.
“Ahh, yeah. Well since you are not from around here you probably don’t know about the little industry the local gangs have. The gel, in our heads… Our type is valuable. The fresh gel keeps your brain from getting old. If a unit uses enough of it, you can live forever. No one ever does. You saw how crazy those guys were, and I would bet they had been only using it for the last few years.”
He pointed to her abdomen questioningly.
“Have I used it? No. Are you crazy too? That stuff burns you out. Messes with your head. Next thing you know you're trying to kill anyone that gets near you. I’d rather not die paranoid.”
He shook his head as he realized his Master, the demigod they had looked to for food, and survival was simply another insane unit desperate to live forever by using the workers. The recycling was just another way to make younger units. They were a herd to be harvested.
He sneered at the idea. He wanted to go back and tell the others. Maybe if enough of them rose up. If enough of them had taken Three-One’s gray into their digester, perhaps they could overthrow the Master.
“You look like you’re thinking,” she said, furrowing her brow, “You’re not going to drain me too are you?”
He shook his head and gave her a look that conveyed his disappointment in the idea.
“Whew, I thought I told you something that I shouldn’t have.”
Spear realized that she was a wealth of information, but he needed to think about this now. This revelation needed time to digest.
Satisfied with his handiwork of resetting the carrying harness, he picked Iris up and slid her over his shoulder.
“That’s so much better!” She said excitedly. Her voice was deafening Spear.
He winced, and put his fingers to his lips, shushing her.
“Sorry,” she whispered, “Thanks by the way.”
They continued, following the thin winding footpath as it sloped downwards towards the river.
It had taken Spear most of the day to work his way down the trail, and over a large number of recent landslides. One had even been so large enough that it had cast most of its rocky materials into the river damming it. A large pool of water covered the trail in front of them, and a mound of wet rocks beyond.
“Well, that wasn’t here when I came up this way. It’s new,” Iris stated in Spear’s ear. She had learned to manage the volume of her voice over the last few hours, and his constant reminders were finally paying off.
He felt her head shift on his back as she looked around them.
Spear could see his left was a vertical wall of freshly cleaved stone soil. Occasionally a boulder fell and tumbled on a bouncing path towards the water. He had been through the water once before, and the idea of walking or crawling through it was less than a
ppealing.
He turned back to the calm pool before him and probed the depth with his spear.
“Can we just climb. Maybe find another way around. Please. Please. Please!” she urged.
Looking over his shoulder, he frowned.
“I hate water. We sink. We don’t float,” Iris declared frantically. Her voice barely masked the panic.
Spear realized that she had less choice than he did. Stepping forward he entered the dark water. Each foot placement a calculated risk.
The metal pipe probed, looking for a path through the circulating pool.
“Oh really? We’re going to do this?” the panic was there now in her voice.
He felt Iris hide her head away behind his neck and squeal.
The water encroached up to his waist half way, but the bottom was solid. The mud had been washed away by the river, and only the large stones remained covered by a layer of silt. He steeled his nerves as each step increased the depth.
The spear was acting like a third leg, and he relied on it as the shadowy fluid around him swirled gently. His foot moved forward, settled on a stone and as he pressed his weight during the step, it gave way. They both went under, dunking into the water.
The pool rippled for a moment, and then the glassy surface returned, hiding all that lay beneath.
Spear looked up at the light shining through the water. The rays of yellow flicking with each crawling step forward. Iris was panicking, and her head thrashed, eventually ending in her repeatedly banging her forehead hard against the back of Spear's neck.
He reached a hand backward and touched her head reassuringly. Her head pressed into his hand, and she stopped hitting him. Spear pushed on through the water and could feel the current rising to his right as they moved towards the central portion of the flowing water. Soon his hands felt the rise of the bank, and he grasped and clawed upward. Spear's toes found purchase on each large stone. Occasionally a loose pile would kick loose under his feet, but the other points of contact took up the load. His hand broke the surface, wrapping around a smooth boulder.
Spear's Journey Page 9