by E. R. Torre
Inquisitor Cer remained silent.
“Please,” he said. “I want to know.”
Inquisitor Cer drew a sharp breath.
“I’ve… I’ve lost a lot these past days,” she said.
Inquisitor Cer’s eyes were suddenly on B’taav. There was fury in them.
“People I thought were good weren’t. The Empire and the Holy Texts I swore my life to were revealed to be—”
The fury was gone.
“—lies.”
She was silent for a few seconds before continuing.
“I’ve witnessed bad things… the worst in my fellow man. At times, it was tempting to just give it up. Yet there was always one thing I could look to for guidance: The Holy Texts and the Word of the Gods. They kept me going, B’taav. For better or worse, it made me what I am. Now, to find so much of it was a… a lie.”
For a moment she lost control.
“Easy,” B’taav said. “I’m sure—”
“Did you talk to Desjardins?” Cer snapped. “Did he tell you what he was? What we are?”
“Yes.”
“We’re abominations,” Cer said. “Created for this very mission by puppet masters we didn’t even know existed.”
“Cer,” B’taav began.
“How are we any different from laboratory mice?”
B’taav was quiet. These words pierced him as deeply as they had her.
“It doesn’t matter if we were created by man or God,” B’taav said. “We’re still human. We have our free will.”
The Independent drew his left arm and produced the Xendos’ remote control panel.
“Say the word and I’ll bring the ship down. We fly back to the Thanatos and tell Desjardins we’re done here. We go home and forget all this ever happened.”
Inquisitor Cer wiped a tear from her face.
“We can return home,” Cer said. “But how do we forget? Running away doesn’t change anything.”
“It doesn’t,” B’taav admitted.
“You’ve lived an entire life without faith.” Cer asked. “I have not. My faith is crumbling away. The Words of the Gods were wrong. According to them, the Earth was destroyed after the Exodus. It obviously was not. The Overlords were supposed to exemplify human divinity, yet they’re sinners just like all of us. What else should I question? Is there a final reward? Are there really any Gods? Is there a kingdom above?”
She paused.
“You’ve lived life without faith,” Cer repeated. “How can I?”
B’taav thought about that. He spoke.
“When I was very young, I realized I had memories. I know. It sounds like a simple thing, but I was so very young at that time and the realization surprised me. So I thought back. I could remember things that happened the day before and the day before that but there came a point where my memories ended. Beyond that point was a… a darkness. It wasn’t a mysterious, scary thing. More like the darkness one feels when falling to sleep. I somehow knew this was where I –where everyone– came from. It was also where after a lifetime worth of memories and action we all return. Because this darkness held neither joy nor fear, glee nor sadness, the thought of returning to it didn’t scare me.”
“What scares you?”
“Accomplishing nothing in between.”
Inquisitor Cer thought about that.
“I’ve done good things and been humbled by failures as I’m sure you have,” B’taav continued. “Today, at this moment, regardless of all that has happened before, we have an opportunity to see where we came from. Even if this place isn’t what the Holy Texts said it was, we have a chance to meet the man who saved humanity. And when we meet him, we may discover secrets hidden for thousands of years.”
“What if Paul Spradlin is just an ordinary, flawed man?”
“Then we’ll treat him as such,” B’taav said. “There may be no Saints, there may be no heavenly reward. Our faith may be misplaced and everything we do may amount to nothing. We have the choice of closing ourselves off until we return to darkness, or we embrace life and make the best of it while we can.”
Inquisitor Cer thought about that. She looked down at her Nutri-Stick and, for the first time in a while, cracked a smile.
“You think he’ll like our food?” she said.
“There isn’t anyone –human or God– who likes this crap,” B’taav replied.
They laughed. Their laughter cut the tension and brightened their moods. Inquisitor Cer wrapped what was left of her Nutri-Stick and pocketed it.
“What do you say, Independent? Do we make some history of our own?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” B’taav said.
Cer rose and offered B’taav her hand. He took it.
Together, they marched north.
51
For over an hour they walked.
At times they slowed because the terrain grew difficult while at others they took advantage of clear paths and hurried along. Now and again B’taav consulted the remote control panel on his jacket sleeve to get an idea of their progress while making sure the Xendos remained intact.
In time they neared the site of Paul Spradlin’s communique to the Thanatos.
It was then that Inquisitor Cer crouched and pulled B’taav down. They huddled in a shadowy grove.
“What is it?” B’taav whispered.
“Something’s in front of us.”
“More robots?”
“I can’t be sure. It didn’t look like them.”
“What did it look like?”
Cer bit her lip.
“A woman.”
She leaned out of their hiding spot. All was clear.
“Whoever it was is gone,” Cer said.
They stepped from the shadows and cautiously drew to the area Cer spotted the female figure. On a patch of sand they found a pair of footprints.
“Boots,” B’taav said.
“We have company,” Inquisitor Cer whispered. “More company any—”
Inquisitor Cer stopped talking. Both she and B’taav detected movement at their sides. Quick. Silent. Lethal.
B’taav slid to his side. His head scrapped a rock and for a moment his vision clouded. When it cleared he spotted Inquisitor Cer.
She was backing up while a dark, rectangular form came between them. It was the smallest of the three robots. Its destroyed legs had fused together and produced an even smaller, stubbier frame. For a moment the thing paused, unsure of which of its targets to attack. A decision made, it moved.
B’taav spun away just as the machine’s claws slammed against the ground he lay on. B’taav drew his fusion gun and fired. The blast hit the creature on its shoulder and momentarily knocked it to its side. Steam rose from the wound.
Another fusion blast, this one from Inquisitor Cer, blew a chunk off the creature’s stubby legs.
B’taav didn’t linger. He got to his feet and hurried to Cer’s side.
“The other two have to be close,” B’taav said.
The robot blocked their path forward, forcing them back. It rose unsteadily. The damage from the fusion blasts was great and its moves were much slower.
“Let’s end this,” Inquisitor Cer said.
Independent and Inquisitor fired a barrage at the creature. Chunks of shrapnel flew in all directions. When they finished firing, the robot was in pieces.
They approached its remains, curious to see how this mechanized thing operated. The pieces of metal, however, proved to be just that.
“I don’t see any circuitry or machinery,” Inquisitor Cer said. “No gears. No levers.”
“How is it moving?”
The answer revealed itself. The metal scraps vibrated. Some remained in place while others came together. A couple of pieces already touching each other fused and formed a new whole.
“Nano-probes,” Inquisitor Cer said. “The repair process is just like what I saw on the Xendos. Only quicker.”
“We tear the metal to pieces and the nano-probes
bring this thing back together again. How do you stop something like that?”
They hurried away from the metal fragments, careful not to touch any of them, and were back on the trail leading up the mountain.
“You hear that?”
B’taav listened. He heard a faint roar. The two walked to the edge of the rocky terrain and looked over it and to the west. Far in the distance they spotted a small dust cloud.
“Is that a storm?”
“The Xendos detected no measurable winds in the atmosphere.”
“The Locust Plague must have started the storm,” Cer said. “If that’s the case, they must be controlling it.”
“For what reason?”
B’taav keyed in a command on the Xendos’ remote control panel.
“Xendos, I need a visual close up, west 20 degrees, approximately fifty miles from my location.”
B’taav and Cer examined the remote control’s small monitor. On it was an overview of the dust cloud.
“Enhance and magnify,” he said.
The image cleared up. Despite the clarity, there was little to see beyond the dust cloud itself.
“She’s about a mile across,” B’taav said. “Wind speeds are sixty miles per hour. Sixty five. A tornado?”
Inquisitor Cer noted something at the corner of the monitor. Small black figures rushed into the swirling dust.
“What’s that?” Inquisitor Cer said.
“Magnify lower edge,” B’taav said.
The image magnified.
“By the Gods,” Inquisitor Cer said.
The black pieces were metal beings similar to the ones that attacked them. A few had wheels while most moved on limbs. They penetrated the dust cloud and disappeared within.
“What are they doing?”
“I don’t know,” B’taav said. “Could they be cobbling up, making something bigger, more powerful?”
“Cobbling up into a storm?” Cer said. “That doesn’t make much sense.”
B’taav nodded.
“Well, whatever they’re doing, it can’t be good.”
“How long do we have before we need to leave?”
B’taav checked the remote panel’s timer.
“Two hours and fifty minutes.”
“The storm isn’t that strong,” Cer said. “At least not yet. We need to find Spradlin before that’s no longer the case.”
They rushed up the rocks, climbing higher and higher into the mountain range.
The path narrowed. There was less sand and the air felt even drier.
The dust storm continued its growth. Its clouds grew darker.
“Winds are at ninety five miles,” B’taav said.
Inquisitor Cer grabbed B’taav’s shoulder and spun him around.
Some two hundred feet away and almost hidden in the rocky shadows was a woman. She had long black hair and stared directly at the two. She was dressed in a worn black jumpsuit and her arms were exposed. They were made of flesh and metal.
“What is she?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps she’s one of them—”
What followed was a blur.
A rusty metallic arm, cold and gritty with age, slammed B’taav’s side. The blow sent his fusion gun sliding away. Inquisitor Cer fired at the creature but the robot, the largest of the three pursuing them, took the blasts far better than its smallest brother.
The thing stood directly over B’taav. It lifted its leg.
Inquisitor Cer yelled and tried to distract it, but the creature’s focus was on its helpless captive.
The creature’s leg was directly over B’taav’s head. Sharp, rusty spikes protruded from under its foot.
Inquisitor Cer fired her gun with her right hand and grabbed B’taav’s side with her left. She tried pulling him away.
The creature’s free arm swatted her aside before she could. Its leg slowly lowered. The hideous spikes drew closer to B’taav’s head.
B’taav frantically reached for anything he could use to defend himself. He spotted Inquisitor Cer on the ground, stunned by the robot’s blow. She looked at him and he at her.
“Please don’t leave me,” she said.
The spikes were inches away. They touched the side of B’taav’s head. The pressure grew. The robot was taking its time, making the Independent suffer.
“No,” Inquisitor Cer whispered.
There was nothing she could do but stare in horror as B’taav slowly died.
The spikes broke skin and blood dripped down the side of the Independent’s head.
“Let him go.”
The voice was female but didn’t come from Inquisitor Cer. The woman’s speech held a strange accent yet her words were clear.
Inquisitor Cer spun around. The dark figure they saw moments before stood only feet away.
She was indeed a woman. Barely.
She was tall, muscular, and held an ancient rifle in her right arm. On that arm, human flesh merged in a grisly fashion with metal. The left arm was in better shape, though the union of metal and flesh was just as gory. The woman was in her mid-forties but from the way she carried herself, she appeared considerably older, if not at all fragile.
She aimed her weapon low. She fired.
The projectile burst seared the robot’s lower leg at its joint. The rusted metal fell to the side and crashed on the ground. The appendage let off a cloud of steam before turning black.
“Move!” the woman yelled.
Inquisitor Cer pulled B’taav away.
More shots were fired. The projectiles slammed into the robot, ripping out large chunks of metal. The smell of gunpowder was heavy and the noise from the weapon deafening.
B’taav and Cer ran.
They reached B’taav’s fusion gun and the Independent grabbed it. The two fired upon the robot but their fusion blasts did only a fraction of the damage of the woman’s shots.
“Save your ammo,” another voice, also female, said.
She stood on a rock formation above them and was shorter than the metal and flesh woman. She had black, shoulder length hair and wore sunglasses that barely hid a trio of blue rectangular tattoos over her right eye. Unlike her companion, she looked completely humanoid. In her arms was a black blade.
The woman silently dropped to the ground before the robot. She held the blade in front of her.
Incredibly, the creature hesitated at the sight of this even more primitive weapon. It took a step back.
“I don’t think so,” the woman with the blade said.
The robot turned. It hurried to the edge of the cliff.
Before it could escape, the woman rammed her weapon through its midsection. She released it and jumped back. Instantly, a flash of brilliant electric sparkles showered the area.
Both B’taav and Inquisitor Cer covered their eyes from the blinding lightshow. In moments the steam and energy crackles dissipated and revealed what remained of the robot. It stood as before, just feet from the edge of the cliff and escape. Its metal body turned to black ash. The ash crumbled and formed a pile of dust.
B’taav and Inquisitor Cer looked for their saviors.
They were gone.
“Stay still,” a hidden voice –the first of the two women– whispered.
B’taav and Cer did as told. After a few seconds, they heard the sounds of footfalls. The mysterious women reappeared from the shadows. They circled the area, checking for other attackers before again disappearing.
All was completely silent.
And then there was another footfall. This one was metallic.
“Easy,” the woman with the sunglasses whispered.
B’taav and Inquisitor Cer pointed their guns in the direction of the noise.
Their last pursuer was at least fifty yards away. It too hid in the rocky shadows and considered whether to attack. All was still for a while. Silent. Eerily so.
Until…
“We haven’t got all day,” the woman with the sunglasses yelled out.
There wa
s a loud groan followed by a metallic creak.
The sound faded.
“Is it gone?” B’taav whispered.
“What do you think?” the woman with the sunglasses replied.
She emerged from her hiding place and drew a second blade from the sheath around her belt. She held it before her and crouched.
“Come on,” she said. “I’m right here.”
All remained quiet. The woman with the sunglasses smirked.
“Fucking coward,” she said.
There came a mighty rumble. The third, medium sized robot erupted from its hiding place and charged at the woman. B’taav and Inquisitor Cer aimed low and fired their weapons. Fusion blasts hit the creature’s legs, sending chunks of metal in all directions.
Just as it was almost on her, the woman with the black blade swung her weapon. The creature barely avoided it by the rolling out of the way and to the edge of the mountain.
It was back on its feet and leaped high over that edge before falling. It crashed down, down below.
The group of four hurried to the cliff’s edge and watched as it slammed hard against the rocks and lost bits and pieces of its body before landing with a thud at the bottom. The creature remained still for several seconds before, incredibly, crawling into the shadows and out of sight.
The woman with the stringy brown hair and metal appendages leaned as far as she could over the ledge. For the first time B’taav and Inquisitor Cer had a good look at her eyes. They were silver orbs.
“What do you see?” the woman in the sunglasses asked.
“Give me a second,” her companion said. She stared hard for a while before shaking her head. “It’s gone.”
The woman with the sunglasses and tattoos nodded. She pointed to the west, toward the growing sandstorm.
“What about out there?”
“Still building,” the metal and flesh woman said.
The women faced B’taav and Inquisitor Cer.
“Looks like you two brought along quite a party,” the woman with the sunglasses and facial tattoos said.
“Who are you?” Inquisitor Cer asked.
The woman with the tattoos pointed to her companion.
“She’s Becky Waters. My name is Nox. Nice to meet you, Inquisitor Cer and… B’taav, right? The hell kind of name is that?”
“You know us?”