Da-Na grabbed another, taking it and showing him, “Ah-pell” she said.
“Ah-pell,” he replied back, happy it had a name.
He considered how easy it would be to integrate with these people. They seemed similar to his own. They could work together. Maybe build something good. A social structure where cannibalism and deceit weren't the rules.
Spear considered that last thought as he stood walking away from the morning fire. He surveyed the group of taller originals as they organized the dead units. They would not be able to fight for his people. They were soft pink creatures. They were kind, but nor warriors, not gods, and certainly not Masters.
Spear had been able to come this far on his own. He had fought so many of his kind and lost friends and family to the way things were. He had even killed a Guard. His eyes looked over to the cutter that still sat on the steps by the ancient metal door.
Spear understood now that he was the only one who would be able to free his family. These creatures were free only because he had done so. They would have been trapped inside that sleeping box forever had he not remembered where they were, or that they even existed. Spear bowed his head looking at a dead unit at his feet.
He needed to return to finish what he had started before the Master harvested everyone he ever knew.
The following morning, he looked for Day-Na. He had already filled his bag with ah-pells, and the heavy cutter was lashed to a makeshift dragging sled comprised of two long poles. The originals looked at him as he passed, some followed as he sought out the female fixer. He could hear their soft voices chattering.
Standing in front of her, he could see her smile disappear when she noticed the bag, cutter, and the Spear in his hand.
Spear pointed to the ground and bent down, he marked in the dirt and pointed to the cave. He placed a handful of small twigs in a pile on top of it. Holding on up, he said her name then placed it with the rest.
She nodded, taking some of the sticks and pointing at everyone around them. She understood the symbolism. The originals were the sticks.
Spear drew a circle to the north and pointed north. He placed a handful of small stones in the circle and again pointed north. Picking one of the stones up, he touched his chest and held it out.
The stone was placed next to the sticks, and then his hand slid it north creating a trail to the circle. He collected all of the stones in his hand, and dragged them along the trail, bringing them back to the sticks.
Day-Na said something and the group chattered. They did not seem displeased. She stood and nodded to the others, putting her hand on Spear’s shoulder smiling before reaching in for an embrace. Spear smiled back and accepted the wrapping of the arms.
Da-Na’s face was sad, and she touched his arm as he walked by. He truly wanted to stay, but the others were waiting; Enslaved under a cruel Master. Spear knew he had one last thing to do before he could rest.
The originals let him pass through the crowd, and they touched him on his back as he walked by. He hoped that he would see them again.
Walking up the hill, he kept the rising sun on his right and quickened his pace.
Chapter 36
Spear had exhausted all of the Ah-pells he had packed into his bag days ago. A few of them would have been enough to provide a day's worth of energy, but at the quick pace he had been moving, and carrying the heavy cutter strapped to his dragging sled, he was using them up exponentially faster than he anticipated.
Most of the last few days had not been difficult. The forest north of the cave had little underbrush, but the steep angle of the hill seemed to go on forever. Both nights he had stopped and checked his direction with the rising sun, confirming he was moving towards his destination and was not off course.
Climbing over the body of an ancient downed tree he slid over the others side and a small puff of ash rose as his feet met the ground. The forest around him was still green, but a coating of blown ash covered everything. It reminded him of the cold season when the snows came, and they huddled inside for warmth until it passed.
He was close now.
After half of a day moving through the trees, he could hear the familiar sounds of the work camp. The quiet chatter among the workers, the occasional clatter of metal as units collected their tools or returned them.
Dropping his bag, he unlashed the cutter from the makeshift sled. Using a crudely fashioned strap from a weave of soft roots, he suspended the cutters weight from his shoulders. Feeling the heft, he moved around gauging its mobility for use in the coming fight.
It had only been a handful of days since Spear had been damaged, chased, exiled and pursued to the end of the known maps. Spear closed his eyes for a moment, taking a pause.
Whatever happened next, the originals were alive and safe. They were awake. Maybe they would treat this world better than his species had.
Opening his eyes, he stood and stepped forward through the trees towards the noises. His bag and the spear lay on the ground. He would need neither anymore.
Spear's feet crackled and snapped the twigs and brush underfoot, but soon the underbrush seemed to die back, as the ash grew. Some areas still smoked as the recent fire had dwindled, exhausted here. Grey puffs erupted each time he placed a foot down.
Spear’s eyes scanned constantly looking for signs of the other guards in the midst of the black trees. Their armored surfaces would be a perfect match for the charred wood.
The clinking of metal tools against stones soon greeted his ears. His pace slowed, and he inched to the edge of the clearing cautiously.
Spear's body felt weak as he realized what he was about to attempt. His bold, noble motives threatened to evaporate under the glare of the reality before him.
A flutter of movement beat in the trees to his left, and Spear swung the weapon, hand on the grip, at ready to charge it. Nothing presented itself, and he held off on the charging cycle. There was more than enough power left, but the element of surprise was his at the moment. The flare of the cutters orange beam would give away his position quickly.
Stepping onward, he stalked as best he could from large tree to tree, hiding, moving and then hiding again. The clearing ahead slowly presented itself. Two of the remaining three guards were in the clearing watching the workers scrape the ground. The fourth was hidden from Spear’s view.
From his vantage point, he could see the Master, going about his business manufacturing new units from recycled parts. The dark thing hovered under its umbrella of arcing light just outside the factory. Remembering the last time he had attacked the Master, he remembered how the invisible force field had vaporized his weapon. He hoped that the cutter was enough.
Spear observed and decided he would bide his time, and wait until the sun had lowered, and the units were in one place, returning to their sleeping box. Only a few units were nearby, and none had seen him yet.
Settling in for a wait, he leaned against a nearby tree, searching for the fourth guard.
Almost immediately quick thundering footfalls behind him forced him to turn. The missing guard was closing the distance quick, and Spear realized he had been spotted.
Cursing his luck, Spear realized that the plan was falling apart already. Three guards and Master vs. one unit with a cutter was not odds that he liked.
Diving over the root he was hiding behind he descended quickly, and his feet struggled to keep up as he scrambled down the hill carrying the heavy cutter. Each step brought him closer towards the open clearing. As the hill transitioned to flat ground, his knees collapsed, and he slammed his body into the ashes. The woven root straps attaching him to the cutter snapped, and it tumbled away.
The ashen plume covered his eyes with fine dust. His empty hands pushing him up out of the silt.
His hands flailed for the dropped cutter as the shadow loomed behind him. Where was it? His hands swung through the piles of ashes and coals blindly as he blinked away the obscuring dust. The footfalls slowed, standing over him.
The fourth Guard reached for him, and Spear rolled to the side coming up he could see the handle of the cutter sticking out next to the Guard’s foot. Feigning to run away, he jerked, watching the sentinel shift its weight, then Spear turned quickly, rushing towards the weapon, sliding as the tall sentry over compensated in the wrong direction.
The Giant loomed above him, its cold, calculating eyes staring into Spear’s soul as the smaller unit’s grip wrapped around the trigger. The charged weapon erupted a beam of pure light, punching through the grasping hand. Unfazed the guard leaned in closer.
Swinging the weapon on target, Spear focused it on the guard’s chest, and the armor plating melted, pouring off in a viscous orange heat.
As the hand reached Spear, the weapon hit its mark, coring the monolithic units chest. Its eyes lost focus, and the balance of the weight tipped forward. Shuffling to the side with the weapon, Spear barely missed being crushed by the guard.
Another hand reached for him, and Spear unleashed the beam again, this time, less discriminately. The next guard's leg was amputated, and it crashed downwards, into the cutter as it dragged across its pelvis and then across its abdomen. The two separate pieces of the Guard dropped to the ground.
Turning, Spear looked for the third, moving onto open ground.
He could see other units either running out of fear or standing rooted in place watching the carnage.
Another cutter beam lanced by him, and he jumped out of the way. The final guard had picked up an identical tool from where it had sat near the factory.
Hustling to keep ahead of the beam, Spear activated his own and aimed. The jostling ray bounced and skipped, but his arms became steady, and it focused on the unit’s head, liquefying the metal. The enemy beam dissipated as hands and weapon came up block the destruction to the now missing face. The Guard's cutter took most of the brunt and was cleaved in two.
Spear renewed his aim. At this distance, the beam was weak, but would still damage over time.
Orange light was scattered across the Guard’s chest as Spear advanced holding the weapon level. Each step intensified the damage. Slag from the body burned and bubbled pooling on the ground.
The Sentinel tried to turn and move away from the feeling of heat, but exposing it's less armored back only allowed the cutter to slice through quicker. The final guard fell dead with a booming crash. Nearby units looked at the dead guard, perplexed. Spear knew what they were thinking. If a guard can be killed, then the Master is not invincible.
“Put that down!” the Master thundered.
Spear turned towards the hovering figure. It was close to him, and the odd feeling of vertigo grew. Dazed he stumbled backward trying to create distance.
The Master advanced using the invisible energy field to disorient Spear. He had never been so close to the Master before. Spear’s hands shook, but his fingers still held onto the weapon. Closing around the trigger as his knees gave out, he lifted the beam towards the Master. The invisible field splashed yellow, orange energy over its surface like water over a stone. Pressing on, Spear struggled to stand. The weakness was diminishing now.
The Master’s face swung from anger to worry. Useless dead legs hung underneath the hovering disk, but his hands came up defensively, “I am your Master! Stop this now!” Retreating, the Master began moving towards the factory.
Pressing the attack, Spear growled, “We have no Master!”
The Master shifted to the right as the beam punched through the field, slicing off a segment of the hovering disk. It sparked and sputtered, dropping to the ground with a crash.
Spear lowered the weapon and took aim at the Master's body but barely caught the motion of another attack out of the corner of his eye. The upper torso of the cleaved guard had crawled towards him while the Master had Spear's focus.
Spear realized only at the last moment that the hand was arcing towards him. Stepping backward and out of the way, Spear felt the vise-like grip of the guard's massive hands barely miss enveloping his arms but catch on the cutter. The crushing hands wrapped around the weapon squeezing.
Spear released for fear of having his hands crushed as well. He stumbled backward, crashing into the work tools. The guard crawled forward discarding the crushed and sparking cutter.
Each reaching grasp dug deep furrows in the soil with its hands.
Standing quickly, Spear pulled a long coring tool from the pile and evaded another striking grasp. Running towards the prone upper half of the giant Spear could see its trail of internals dragging behind. He launched himself over its head, narrowly avoiding the hands.
Once behind the guard, Spear thrust the length of the coring tool down inside the body, searching for the energy nucleus contained within. The torso writhed as it fought to turn, but each time the torso adjusted Spear moved with it.
Spear thrust again, heaving his weight behind the sharp pike, driving it into the mass of wiring and circuitry. A subtle pop and the unit lay still.
Snarling, Spear pulled the length out. Its end dripping clear steaming fluids onto the ash covered ground.
The Master’s broken legs could be seen crawling inside the factory. The ruined hovering disk discarded and upside down.
Looking around Spear could see a crowd gathering. Their faces were full of wonder and surprise. He would show them how mortal their Master was. He would kill the Master and set them all free.
Hefting his Spear he moved forward, lowering its point.
Standing outside the door, he could see the Master climbing into his control chair to escape higher, “Stay away! You have ruined everything!”
Spear quietly stepped inside. The Master’s face turned from fear to cruel laughter as an articulating arm from the roof clamped down over his head, and lifted Spear from the floor. Something metal snapped around his neck, and he dropped the Spear reaching for both of the imprisoning devices.
“You should have stayed away,” the Master stated, “I was satisfied that you had led me to so many new bodies and brains to recycle, I would have left you be. You should have been satisfied with killing that guard, but instead, you returned.”
Spear kicked and flailed, but the multi-pronged claw held him fast by the head. His hands struggled against their pressure as he tried unsuccessfully to peel them off his skull.
The discipline collar arced at its lowest setting, and pain seared his body. He spasmed, and writhed.
“You should have just disappeared into the wilderness to live like a wild thing.”
Spear grunted and thrashed again as the current increased.
The Master laughed cruelly. “What about your silly quest. Did you find them? The ‘originals’?”
Spear feared that he had already slaughtered them. How did he know about them?
“Oh, I have seen them in my dreams too. They died long ago. Just a memory. There are no gods left except for me.” He laughed again, increasing the pain. Spear’s fingers barely could wrap around the collar let alone pull. There was no strength in his limbs.
“Don’t think that I wasn’t prepared to be overthrown. Each time you rise up, I cut you down. Each time the flock becomes too strong, I recycle everyone. The new units are dumber, and remember less, and the gel just gets sweeter.”
Again the pain increased. Spear couldn’t control his arms now, and they vibrated at his sides. It was over. Everything was over. At last.
At least the Master didn’t know that he was wrong.
“I will recycle you just like - -,” his voice cut out, and Spear fell to the ground, slamming hard into the metal floor. He rolled onto his side, numb and watched as the Water Carrier’s body dropped the cutter. Her head snapped violently backward as she fell in an electrical seizure.
Spear could feel the arcing beginning in his own collar, but he wrapped his fingers around the coring tool he had dropped on the floor and charged forward. He stepped once, twice, and thrust before the discipline collar fully overtook him. The pain arced through his body for only a moment
as the weapon found its home.
The length of sharpened metal pinned the Master's forehead to the chair. The space between the eyes leaked green fluid, dripping down onto the contorted body. Unfocused eyes rolled.
“No more,” Spear said, “No more killing. No more recycling.”
Standing he staggered outside. The crowd parted as he walked towards the Water Carrier.
He knelt picking her up; the electrical current had ended, but she was unmoving. Spear feared the level she had experienced was likely lethal. Her damaged face opened its eyes, and she reached up to touch his face.
“I knew you would come back,” she said. Her weak arms were wrapped around Spear. The crowd moved in, hands touched him, whispers of thanks, and gratitude met his ears. He pulled her close, kneeling in the ashes.
Chapter 37 – Epilogue
Dana stood at the mouth of the bunker. She looked over the clearing below, “Maybe we can build some shelters out here, and take advantage of making fires?”
Mark shrugged, “You’re the engineer. I really didn’t expect to be camping.”
“I don’t think any of us did,” she consoled.
"How long do you think we were inside the box?"
"Two maybe three hundred years,"
Mark ran his fingers through his hair. "Wow.... Everyone we ever knew is dead. We might be the last people alive on the planet."
"Do you think that they found us because of Daniel?"
"Daniel is long dead. They only live about 30 years before their core's split."
"This is really depressing," Mark stated.
"We just have to make the best of it for now," Dana said, "What about the salvage check. Anything we can use?"
Spear's Journey Page 21