Blood and Iron p-2

by Tony Ballantyne

  Just like a tide, reflected Kavan, for he had as much command over the army as he had over the waters. The robots sloshed forwards and backwards, rushed up into the surrounding hills and mountains, spilling over the edges, sometimes never to be seen again, sometimes to come trickling back in metal streams.

  The trouble was, there was no certainty up here amongst the high peaks. No one really knew who was on whose side, and just where all of this was going to end up. Not even Kavan. There were too many variables.

  When Spoole had retreated, he had taken as many of the Artemisian troops back with him as would follow: he didn’t want them deserting to join Kavan’s army as it advanced. All those little mountain kingdoms that Kavan himself had so recently conquered suddenly found themselves drained of their new rulers, found themselves free once more. Free to take back their own land and lives, to refortify themselves, to run away, higher into the mountains and safety. Free to launch attacks on the Uncertain Army.

  Or even, in some cases, to join it. After all, wasn’t Kavan intending to attack Artemis itself? For some, it didn’t matter that the Army was led by their former conqueror, it was enough to follow it to where it was going. For safety, for revenge, for profit.

  Then there were those troops who had found themselves unwilling conscripts in the Uncertain Army, who took the chance to slip away, in ones or twos, in squads and even platoons, to seek freedom, or perhaps to set themselves up in one of the abandoned kingdoms, maybe to rule over those who still remained, or merely to find somewhere to hide whilst the events unfolded without them to the south, waiting to join the victors later on.

  Whichever side that was.

  Finally, there were those who still saw Kavan and his army as the enemy. Whether Artemisian soldiers loyal to Spoole and the Generals, or the remnants of the armies of the Northern Kingdoms who still held out in the high caves and passes, swooping down occasionally to fight their guerrilla war, there were still enough robots to ambush and bomb and trap and attack Kavan and his troops. Sailing down from the skies beneath silver parafoils, rolling rocks in avalanche down the mountainsides, pouring petrol to fill the streams, filling the air with iron filings and chaff, ricocheting cannonballs from the rocky walls, igniting magnesium flares that filled the night with harsh light that burned out the eye cells, or simply attacking in a chatter of rifle shot and a clatter of knives and awls, Kavan found his progress constantly slowed and frustrated.

  As if he was wading against a tide of his own design.

  And yet, it didn’t seem to make any difference to the size of his army. If anything, it continued to grow. A constant stream of robots found their way to him, offering advice and allegiance.

  Robots like the one that stood before Kavan at the moment.

  Calor had brought her to meet him. She wore an engineer’s body: blue panelling, the machinery beneath it adapted, tuned, altered from the standard pattern that Artemis imposed on its robots. Oddly enough, this didn’t upset Kavan. He recognized the Artemisian State’s need for engineers. So long as they helped to advance its cause he never felt a need to understand them.

  ‘Her name is Ada. She says her mother was a Raman, her father an Artemisian.’

  ‘And do you follow Nyro’s way?’ asked Kavan, looking at the robot’s elongated body.

  ‘I do,’ answered Ada. ‘Should my parentage cast doubt on my loyalties? Your mind wasn’t twisted in Artemis, either, Kavan. It’s not about where you were made, it’s what you believe in.’

  Kavan noticed the way Calor was looking at him, as if surprised at what she had just heard. She covered up her confusion. ‘I found her up there,’ she said, pointing to the rocky peaks to the west. ‘She was making her way towards you.’

  ‘I was,’ Ada said, ‘I’ve been looking for you. You’re making a mistake, Kavan.’

  Kavan took a closer look at Calor. He could hear the hum of the current running through her body. Scouts always pushed themselves too hard. In Kavan’s opinion they were already half mad when they were made: you never knew which way they would jump. Calor now belonged to an army whose direction changed by the hour. No wonder she was tense. ‘Perhaps you should walk with me a while, Calor,’ he suggested.

  Calor shook her head.

  ‘Got to get back to the mountains, Kavan. Keep watching your path.’

  ‘As you wish,’ said Kavan. He watched her silver body as she sprang up the side of a cliff, jumping from ledge to ledge, scrabbling with her claws for purchase in the smallest cracks. Showers of stones rattled to the ground behind her, marking her passage.

  Kavan turned back to Ada.

  ‘You said I was making a mistake? Do you think that Spoole and the rest are the true leaders of Artemis?’

  Ada’s blue eyes flashed. Whether in humour or anger, Kavan couldn’t tell.

  ‘Of course I don’t,’ she said. ‘You’re the right robot for the job. It’s just that you’re going about it the wrong way.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘You’re thinking like you’ve always done, Kavan. It’s not your fault; it’s the way your mind was twisted, to think of leading soldiers to the expansion of Artemis. Well, the conditions no longer apply. The continent is conquered and you’re not in full control of this army. Although there are many who believe in you, there are just as many who don’t. You don’t have the backing of Spoole and the Generals any more, even the backing that they gave you under duress of circumstances. You’re the right robot for the job of overthrowing the Generals, but not for the job of getting this army down to where it’s needed.’

  Ada’s blue eyes flashed again, and this time Kavan saw the humour there. He was reminded of Eleanor, his old second in command. But whereas she was twisted a warrior and had always subtly challenged him for leadership, Ada was an engineer. She would be more interested in getting the job done.

  ‘So who is the right person? You?’

  ‘I know these mountains well, Kavan. I know what Spoole’s engineers will have done to the road before you. Blowing bridges, mining the roads, setting avalanches. All the traps that I would have set if I were in their position.’

  ‘And do you know of another way south?’

  ‘Yes. Head west and follow the Northern Road.’

  Kavan gazed at her blue eyes.

  ‘The Northern Road? I didn’t realize it extended into the mountains.’

  ‘There’s a lot you don’t know, Kavan,’ said Ada. ‘What does Artemis care for but Artemis?’

  ‘Nothing, and that is how it should be. Why is there a road through the mountains?’

  ‘The Borners, or those who became the Borners, followed the road here from the Top of the World. They came to these mountains for iron, and they carried it back to their home.’

  ‘What happened to them?’

  ‘War,’ said Ada. ‘The people who settled in the mountains wanted to keep the iron to themselves.’

  Kavan nodded. That made sense to him.

  ‘How far is this road from here?’

  ‘Barely a mile,’ said Ada, and she laughed. Kavan understood why. This was a land of sheer peaks and deep valleys. A robot could travel a hundred miles to get to a point a mile distant.

  ‘There is path to that road not far from here. Send your Scouts ahead, they will confirm what I say is true.’

  ‘Is it safe?’

  ‘Safe? Of course not. But under the circumstances it’s the right path. Your mind is set on marching a path of conquest. What you need is a path of stealth and convenience. This path will deliver you through the mountains and onto the Artemisian plain. It is the right path to take. I can see that.’

  Kavan thought of the road he had travelled so far and then he gestured to a nearby Scout.

  ‘Listen to this robot,’ he said. ‘Search the path that she suggests. See if it is suitable for us to traverse.’

  Of course, thought Kavan, it could be a trap, but no more so than the path they currently followed.

  And Ada was right about one thi
ng at least. Kavan was not the right robot to make decisions at this point. He wasn’t commanding an army as such, he was more caught in the middle of the events that were unfolding on the continent. Robots moved this way and that, and for the moment Kavan was following the ebb and flow of the metal tide.

  He had no ego in these matters. What he followed was Nyro’s will. If the moment came, he would resume command of the army.

  Wa-Ka-Mo-Do

  Wa-Ka-Mo-Do met Rachael as he descended the Street of Becoming. At the time she looked like any other animal; he was not yet at the point where he could identify a young human female of around fourteen or fifteen. She walked with her arms folded around her middle, a look on her face of withering contempt for the world. She was coming up the hill, heading directly for him, and Wa-Ka-Mo-Do realized that she wasn’t going to give way as protocol directed. He signalled to the Copper Guard who flanked him not to intercede.

  Her long straight hair was the colour of copper, her eyes like copper sulphate, her skin the colour of titanium dioxide. Her body was not as curved as an adult human female, it more resembled that of a female robot, the same hint of an indentation to the waist that many women built, the same long arms and fingers.

  Wa-Ka-Mo-Do stood still, smiling slightly as the girl halted before him. She raised her gaze almost to his, made a loud tutting noise.

  ‘Excuse me,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do politely, ‘but this is my right of way.’

  The girl rolled her eyes and made to walk around him.

  ‘I know that you can understand me,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. ‘I see the light flicker on the little device you wear by your ear when I speak.’

  The girl rolled her eyes. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do had never seen that before, he struggled not to laugh.

  ‘I was walking this way first,’ she said.

  ‘Ah yes, but I’m the commander of this city. Strictly speaking I could have your coil broken for failing to show me respect.’

  The girl just rolled her eyes once more and turned her back on him. The Copper Guard saw the slight and began to move forward. Swiftly, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do reached out and seized her arm. It felt softer than he expected, but stronger too. There was a hardness at the centre. The bone, he later discovered.

  ‘Aaaoow!’ yelped the girl, pulling her arm free. She rounded on him, face flushed with fury. ‘That hurt! What are you playing at?’

  ‘Saving your life.’ And preventing a diplomatic disaster, he added to himself. ‘Yukawa is a land steeped in tradition, young lady. You should never turn your back on a superior.’

  ‘Your hand is burning!’ She rubbed her arm. ‘You robots stand in the sun all day and you don’t realize how hot your metal gets.’

  ‘I didn’t realize,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. ‘I’ve never touched a human before. I didn’t expect you to be so sensitive.’

  ‘Sensitive? Look! You made a mark! And I turn my back on who I want. What gives you the right to tell me otherwise?’

  ‘Four hundred fully armed troops garrisoned within the city,’ replied Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. ‘Plus another two thousand spread across the surrounding land. Plus the fact that I am trained in the seven arts of combat, and the nine arts of weaponry. Oh yes, and the fact that I am the commander of this city, and what I say goes.’

  That brought a faint smile to the human’s lips, and Wa-Ka-Mo-Do felt a kindling empathy with this strange creature. She reminded him of his sister, and of Jai-Lyn.

  The thought brought a certain symmetry to his life. Three young females.

  ‘What’s your name, human?’ he asked.

  ‘Rachael. What’s yours, robot?’

  ‘Wa-Ka-Mo-Do.’

  ‘Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. That’s a stupid name.’

  ‘I think Rachael sounds rather pretty.’

  ‘Really?’ She gave a smile that vanished as soon as it appeared. Now she just looked bored. ‘Can I go now, or are you going to get your men to cut off my head for showing your name disrespect?’

  ‘They’re women, actually,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, gazing at the Copper Guard. ‘You can go in a moment. But first, Rachael, I want to ask you something. You’re the first human I’ve ever spoken to. I want to know, what do you think of Sangrel?’

  Rachael stared at him with those copper-sulphate eyes. Two lines of hair like copper wire were stitched above them. From that moment on, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do thought of Rachael as his copper girl.

  ‘What do I think of Sangrel?’ she said. ‘Do you really want my opinion, or are you just trying to win me over?’

  ‘Oh, both,’ replied Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. ‘Congratulations, though, for seeing through my strategy.’

  ‘Now you’re patronizing me.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dare. Go on, tell me what you think of Sangrel.’

  ‘I think it’s a lovely place,’ said Rachael, and Wa-Ka-Mo-Do wondered if she was being sarcastic. ‘But I don’t like how you run it. Yukawa is a cruel Empire. Cruel and stupid. You’re selling yourself far too cheaply, you know that?’

  ‘Selling ourselves too cheaply? What do you mean?’

  ‘You’ve given away your mines and your land for a song. Now can I go?’

  ‘For a song? I’m sure the Emperor is being generous to his guests-’

  ‘Oh, the Emperor! But we have to be nice to him. Look, I’m late. May I go?’

  ‘You may,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, thinking about what she had just said. Just in time he remembered the Copper Guard, standing to attention either side of him. ‘But make sure you don’t turn your back to me. I don’t want my Guard to have to kill you.’

  Rachael rolled her eyes once more and walked on her way. But she kept her back away from him as she did so.

  Kavan

  Ada was a true Artemisian, and a true engineer. Kavan could see it in the way she organized the movement of the Uncertain Army through the mountains. She approached the problem of moving metal from one location to another just as she would any other project, whether it was navigating a railway line or building a bridge.

  The robots marched along narrow paths at her guidance, disassembling themselves to be carried by others or even shaping their own bodies into ramps and ladders to enable other robots to climb over them to higher paths, trusting in their fellows to reassemble them afterwards.

  She was right, realized Kavan. He had been treating the problem as yet another attack, charging down a path, pushing aside all resistance, but as he climbed from shoulder to shoulder on a pyramid of robots arranged up a rocky slope, he acknowledged that her way of thinking was more appropriate here.

  It took them four days to travel the distance to the Northern Road, and often Kavan would look down on a windblown valley, silver and black robots clinging to the sheer sides, body parts being passed hand-to-hand along the edges of ridges. Always there would be blue engineers organizing winches and cranes to collect bodies from the deeper ravines, in order to save the precious metal, and always there was Ada, moving back and forth, organizing and planning and building.

  ‘Good work,’ he said to her on the evening of the last day. Ada had ordered the robots to remain still at night. Better to lose ten hours’ travel than to waste twenty retrieving broken metal from the foot of a mountain, she had said.

  ‘I’m impressed. How much further?’

  ‘You’ll see the Northern Road in the morning,’ said Ada. ‘After that, you only need point your army south.’

  ‘I want you to remain with me. You’ve proven your worth.’

  ‘I intend to,’ replied Ada. ‘You’ll need me yet.’

  The Northern Road had been impressive enough as they had travelled through the hills of northern Shull. Up here in the mountains it inspired awe in the robots that gazed upon it. Even Kavan found himself wondering at the robots who had imagined it, wondered at the state that had the vision, the planning and the technical proficiency to build it. How would Artemis have fared against them, if they had faced them at the height of their strength?

  Kavan was in no doubt, Artemis would have prevailed. Still, the Northern Road was
a worthy artefact.

  ‘I’d say this road even surpasses the railway system of Artemis,’ said Ada, at his shoulder.

  The road was built of stone, not metal. Sometimes made of bricks, sometimes of huge boulders, sometimes even carved from the side of the mountains themselves. Seven yards wide and surfaced in cobbles, a low wall on each side, it ran in the shadows of the mountain peaks. Kavan marched amongst the Uncertain Army, part of the metal river that flowed up steep inclines where steps were cut into the road’s surface, a river that ran by the sheets of snow that still lingered up here despite the approach of summer, a river that plunged into the shadows of hanging valleys.

  The robots of the plains weren’t used to these high passes; the days when the sun reflected so brightly from the snow that their eyes filled with flashing interference, the nights where the temperature dropped so low that metal became brittle and electro-muscle would tear if flexed too quickly. They were playful in the cold, scooping handfuls of snow from the banks as they passed by, kicking at the ice formed in the lee of the low walls. And then the temperature dropped further and they tapped at joints that seized up through contraction, they looked at canisters of diesel turned waxy by the cold.

  Kavan walked with Ada.

  ‘What if we are attacked here?’ asked a Storm Trooper, its body emitting clanking, popping noises as it stamped along beside them. The cold was not kind to its large frame.

  ‘We fight,’ replied Kavan, simply.

  Only the Scouts seemed happy. Or not so much happy as manic. They jumped and skidded down steep banks of snow, skiing on extended claws towards sheer drops, only flicking a foot at the last moment to veer clear of the edge. Sometimes they went over and Kavan and the rest listened for the distant clatter of metal hitting rock.

  There was no sign of any other robots this high up.

  ‘Oh, they’re here,’ said Ada. ‘They’ll be watching you.’

  ‘Who will be?’

  ‘The Borners. This is their territory.’

  ‘Artemis territory.’

  ‘No. This isn’t the part we conquered. I’m talking about the real Borners. The robots of the mountains.’