Driftmetal III

by J. C. Staudt

  “You are the smartest guy I know. Remember harder.”

  “I’m trying, I’m trying.” His face lit up. “I remember!” He typed in another sequence.

  The blasted thing shocked me again.

  “What was that for?” I asked.

  “I didn’t mean it. That was it. That was the code. I remember it now. I typed in the right code.”

  “You did it wrong. Try again.”

  He did. All I got was another shock.

  “Muller. That was the code. I’m telling you, that was the one. It’s like the cipher is different now, or something.”

  Then it dawned on me. Doctor Gottlieb hadn’t failed to open the box. He’d succeeded. And then he’d changed the cipher to keep anyone else from getting inside. “Cut it off, Blaylocke. Cut the blasted thing off!”

  “Your arm?”

  I nodded. “My—”

  Another shock sent me stiff. That’s how the synod has been observing me, I realized. They’ve been listening in on my every conversation for weeks. They’ve been there while I was out on the testing floor—while we were in the lab, working on the logic drive. They’ve had control of me all this time, and I’ve been none the wiser.

  “You have a weapon,” I shouted. “Use it. Get this stupid crackler off me—”

  The next shock was so intense I thought I was going to dump out in my pants. I rolled over, hurting so badly I wished I could cry or scream or beg for death. When I opened my mouth, no sound came out.

  Then Blaylocke was there, his flecker sword drawn in one hand, holding my arm in the other. He and Chaz were the only two people in that room who could get away with touching me, and only because they were primitives. If a techsoul tried, the crackler jolts would spread to them.

  “I can do better than that,” Blaylocke said. He took me by the wrist and clamped down tight as the next jolt shook me like a seizure. His eyes fixated on the crackler box, waiting for the moment to pass. As soon as it was done, he shoved the sword straight through my arm and drew it back out with precision timing. Not a slash, but a stab.

  I felt the telerium bones melt like wax. My arm went as wobbly as a summer sausage. The pain of that wound made me scream, but at least I could scream. The box sparked and smoldered as my arm flopped limply, gushing blue-violet blood. Blaylocke had severed both bones and much of the flesh, but my arm was still attached. Through the pain, I could still move my fingers.

  Gently, he helped me tuck the arm against my stomach for stability. I was free of the synod, without having known I was their captive before. I understood them wanting to play it safe. I was a wildcard. But their terms included murdering the Regent and his family, and that was something I hadn’t come to grips with. I hated the Regency, but I was willing to give the man who’d been born on the throne a chance.

  I lay on the ground for what felt like a long time. My companions wrapped my arm in whatever came to hand and fashioned a makeshift sling from the fabric of the Regent’s robes. Thomas and Rindhi helped me to my feet while Blaylocke made sure the Regent stayed put. Lord Maxwell Baloncrake just sat there, giving no evidence that escape was on his mind.

  “Did they shut down the legion?” I asked.

  Blaylocke stepped up to one of the Evelyns and raised himself onto his tiptoes. “They look ‘on’ to me.”

  “Evelyn,” I said. “Form a perimeter around us.”

  The unit made a protective circle, as instructed.

  “They’re still up,” I said, surprised. “Why didn’t the synod shut them down? You’d think there would be some kind of override, wouldn’t you?”

  “If there’s one thing I’ve come to expect, it’s not to expect anything from them,” said Thomas. “Maybe there isn’t an override.”

  “Or it’s a slow-moving one,” said Blaylocke.

  “Who knows how long their big red button might take to go into effect,” I said. “While we still have the legion at our backs, let’s make the most of it. Blaylocke, I must say—I never thought I’d see the day when you’d be able to prove your loyalty by stabbing me.”

  “Stranger things have happened,” said Blaylocke.

  “Oh yeah? Name one.”

  Blaylocke smirked. “I’m looking at him.”

  I almost wanted to smirk back, but I was in so much pain I probably would’ve pissed myself instead. “Let’s move. Evelyn One, Evelyn Two. Detain the Regent and follow me.”

  The Regent cringed away as the two obedient robots ascended the dais and bent to grab him. He cried out as they lifted him off his throne and carried him, legs dangling, back to the group. His crown slid off his head and clanged to the floor, spinning like a coin until one of the robot’s feet crashed down onto it, bending the gold and sending gemstones skittering across the marble. I approached him, studying his face as I looked him close in the eye.

  “Today we’re going to a place you’ve never been before,” I said. “You’re going to hope it’s the only time you ever have to. Take notes and pay attention, because you’ll never get a more honest appraisal of your job performance.” I turned to my retinue and spoke up. “Evelyns Three, Four, Five, and Six. Search this building. Locate the Regent’s family. Bring them here. Guard them. Keep them safe.”

  We left the palace, minus the four bodyguards I’d left behind. Outside, we passed the guardsmen on the front steps, who looked worried at seeing their Regent carried off like a common criminal. We piled into the Highjinks and lifted off toward our destination.

  “Why are we doing this?” Thomas wanted to know.

  “And what exactly are we doing?” asked Rindhi.

  “Hedging our bets,” I said, trying to lower my flight goggles with my one good hand. When that didn’t work so well, I said, “Someone help me with these.”

  The prison was only a few minutes’ flight from the palace. It was outside the invasion circle, but the high razorwire fence surrounding the compound made that a non-factor—for the time being. We landed in the midst of a stark landscape of brick buildings, rubbled asphalt, and fields of dead grass, then opened the boarding ramp and loaded out.

  “Evelyn, guard us. Neutralize any prison guards who show hostility. You are cleared to fire,” I said.

  At my command, the robots tore through every gate, fence line, and wall between us and the prison’s front office. The Regent made no sound as the two robots dragged him along by his upper arms. I ignored the guard towers, along with the shouts and bullhorn warnings that followed us there. The first guard who shot at us only had time to snap off a few rounds before Evelyn turned and loosed a barrage that sent half the tower top crumbling to the ground.

  “Evelyn Seven, open this door,” I commanded.

  The robot kicked it in like a paper bag, and I stepped inside. There were two guards lazing around in their chairs behind a long wooden desk. They shot up from their seats, fumbling for their sidearms.

  “That won’t be necessary,” I said. “In fact, I highly recommend you leave your weapons where they are.”

  The guards’ panic turned to speechless dread as the robots filtered in through the doorway behind me. I stopped them before they’d managed to crowd the room and pin us to the walls.

  “By show of hands, which of you two wants to go home tonight?” I asked. They both did. “That’s just as I thought. Follow my instructions very carefully, and you will. Allow me to introduce you to the High Regent. Evelyn One, Evelyn Two, release the Regent.”

  They let him fall to the floor in a heap.

  “Stand up, Max. These robots might look strong, but even a scrawny thing like you can get heavy after a while.” When the Regent picked himself up, I turned to the guards. “The Regent would enjoy a tour of the facilities. Wouldn’t you, Max?”

  He nodded sullenly.

  I handed one of the guards a slip of paper. “Here’s how this is going to work. I’ve just handed you a list of names. You take us on our little tour by way of the blocks where I can find the people on that list. I want their ce
lls unlocked, and I want you to explain what’s happening to any other guards we might encounter along the way. Now, turn the paper over. On the back is a brief script. Before we enter each of the cell blocks, one of you is to stand and repeat what’s written there to the entire prisoner population. After that, get out of the way and let us pass. Are we clear?”

  The guards nodded as sullenly as the Regent had a moment before. They brought us through the security gate and down a narrow hallway to the first of the cell blocks, a square of tiny cages with a common area between them. One of the guards conversed briefly with the sentries posted in the outer room, then thumbed over his shoulder before he went inside. “Low security, this one,” he said, referring to my list. “The folks you’re looking for ought to be in here.”

  “First, the announcement,” I said. “I want it nice and loud. If I can’t hear it out here with the door closed, you’re not doing it right.”

  His lips wrinkled into a frown, but when the sentries buzzed him through, he cleared his throat and pushed the door open. A wall of windows allowed us to see everything going on inside the cell block, like a pen at the zoo.

  With his back to us, the guard began to read his brief script aloud, shouting just as I’d directed him: “Hear ye, hear ye! Announcing Lord Maxwell Baloncrake, High Regent of Roathea, Emperor of Esperon, Protector of the Innocent, and Guardian of the Stream. Lord Baloncrake brings with him all the glory and prestige bestowed upon him by his esteemed lineage. All prisoners are commanded to treat him with the utmost honor and respect while he remains in our presence. And now, without further ado… the Regent.”

  Before the guard had even opened the door, the cell block erupted in a chorus of boos and curses and taunts. It was music to my ears. Maxwell was red in the face, as embarrassed and apprehensive as a man of his standing might ever permit himself to be in public. It wasn’t as if I was trying to teach the Regent a lesson. Oh, wait. Yes I was. If I decided to let him stay in power—and if the automatons stayed online long enough for me to make that decision—this man needed a good hard slap across the face. A slap of wisdom and perspective.

  The refuse started flying as soon as Maxwell stepped through the doorway. Things came at him from within the bars of those cells that any responsible historian might omit from a retelling of that day’s events. I, however, am no such person. The windows had been splashed and smudged with all manner of colorful substances by the time we followed him in—and I made sure the prisoners were running low on said substances before we did. If this was the minimum security block, I could only imagine what was in store for Lord Max deeper inside the bowels… of the prison.

  “Muller! Dear heavens—Muller!”

  I looked up when I heard my name. “Unlock those cells, man. Do it now,” I told the guard, my voice laced with urgency.

  Thorley Colburn and Dennel McMurtry were peering down at me from within their respective cells, pressing themselves against the bars and waving both arms, as though getting my attention was worth the risk of losing them. I smiled and waved back, then beckoned them to come down. As soon as the doors were open, they were racing down the open metal stairwell and across the common area to greet us.

  I gave them a moment to say hello to everyone, settle down, and ask the inevitable questions I knew were on their minds. “I’ll explain all of this later,” I said. “No questions now. We may be running out of time. Where are Sable and Eliza?”

  “Women’s Ward is next,” said the guard.

  “What are we waiting for? Let’s move.”

  Another hallway, more guards to appease, and a few more precious moments with Evelyn under my command took us to a smaller cell block. They gave the Regent another hostile welcome, but not one quite so bad as in the block previous. With every moment, I was becoming more certain that the automatons would halt dead in their tracks and droop like wilting flowers. If that happened, and when, were things that only one person in all of Roathea would know.

  “Get me Angus on the horn,” I told Blaylocke as I swept through the door and into the women’s cell block.

  The automatons weren’t the only thing that was putting me ill at ease. Months had passed while Sable and the others languished in this hole. I had planned out every jailbreak scenario my mind could dream up. Even in that watershed moment when I had first laid eyes on the Galvos production line, I’d never believed I could actually get her out of here. The idea of seeing her again was too much. How would she react? Did she hate my guts?

  The guard unlocked her cell. She and Eliza came hurtling down the stairs like bottle rockets. When Sable saw Ezra, she did a double-take.

  “Grandpa? Grandpa!”

  She flew past me and into his arms, the grandfather who had come so far and endured so much to be with her. Sable would be even more ecstatic to see Angus, I knew. My heart sank.

  That was when Blaylocke handed me the comm. “Got Angus on the line.”

  I took it from him. “Angus. Has anyone from the synod bluewaved you?”

  “No… why?”

  “Is there an override?”

  “For what?”

  “For the buttons on my trousers. The legion, you lackwit.” I cringed when I heard myself sounding so much like my dear old dad. “Doesn’t the synod have a way to… shut them down, or, take command of them?”

  Angus grunted. “No fingerprints, Mr. Nordstrom. No ties. If you even think about dying, the legion is mine.”

  “So it’s just you and me, then. It’s all in our hands. This whole thing is up to us.”

  “On how many separate occasions have I told you that?”

  “I know, but… I just thought they were smarter than that.”

  “Clearly you don’t have any idea how powerful they are. Or how much bigger this fleet could’ve been. Their biggest worry when they gave you the command was that you were going to ask for more troops. Six thousand automatons… a drop in the bucket.”

  “I had a hard enough time learning to control this many.”

  “Yes… I was there. Have you found the Regent and his family yet?”

  I glanced at Maxwell, who was looking more miserable by the minute. He’d also gotten considerably less clean and well-dressed. Then I looked at Sable, who had finished greeting her grandfather and was eyeing me with a cold but anxious expression. “Here,” I said, holding the comm out to her.

  When she grabbed it and began to speak, a strange silence followed, as if the whole cell block had stopped to listen. She paced the floor while she talked, holding the comm close to her ear. “Angus? Uncle Angus? Hi, it’s me, Sable. Oh yes, I’ve missed you too. I’m so glad you’re alright. What’s that? Oh, yes, I’m fine. It wasn’t bad. What’s all this going on in here? How did everyone get here? Where are you? Why aren’t you with them?” She listened for a moment, then gave me a dark glance. “Yeah, I know. He is. He is, yes. He did? Okay. See you soon.” She lowered the comm. Without letting that cold look leave her face, she walked over, threw her arms around my neck, and kissed me.

  The whole cell block exploded in hoots and cat calls—and not just from within the cells. Neither of us paid attention. My heart was fluttering in my chest with the feel of her mouth on mine. That feeling of elation was so intense, I almost felt like I was wearing the medallion again.

  By the time she let me come up for air, I had forgotten that the comm was still live in her hand, and that Angus was waiting on the other end of the line.

  “Sable? Mr. Nordstrom?”

  “Angus,” I said. “Meet us back at the Regent’s palace in fifteen minutes. It’s time to finish this thing.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  I hung up. “Okay, Max. You’re off the hook. No high-security gauntlets for you to run today. Evelyn One, Evelyn Two. Detain the Regent.” I turned to the guard. “Get us out of here.”

  We made our way outside and boarded the Highjinks. As the autopilot bore us back toward the heart of the city, I stood on the flight deck with Sable beside me, hoping
Angus had been right when he said that Maclin didn’t have a means of override.

  “I really am glad to see you,” Sable said, resting her head on my chest.

  “I would never have guessed it,” I said, laughing.

  “Not at first, I’m sure.”

  “No, not at first. I figured you must hate me by now.”

  She put her arms around my waist and turned to look up at me. “How could I ever hate you? You aggravate me to no end. You get yourself into more trouble than you should. And a lot of the time, you’re just downright mean. But you’ll do anything for the people you care about.”

  “That’s half the reason I’m always getting into so much trouble,” I said.

  “You don’t hate me, do you?” she asked.

  I was taken aback. “Why would you even think that?”

  “Because I messed up back in Everwynd. I got us caught, and you had to come all this way to get us out. I mean, I thought you’d get here eventually, but I never expected to see you with an army behind you. That’s a lot of trouble to go to for something we could’ve avoided by just being more careful.”

  “Stop it. I would’ve come for you, even without an army. I think you know that.”

  She blushed.

  I’d like to think I’m good at expressing how I feel most of the time. When it comes to telling people how I feel about them, results may vary. Thomas and Rindhi and all the others had filled in the blanks for themselves. In time, so would Sable.

  “How did all this happen, anyway?” she asked, gesturing toward one of the Evelyns. “And what happened to your arm?”

  “Kind of a long story. The short version is, we found Angus, and then the legion kind of… found us. I promise that once this is all over, we’ll talk.”

  We landed on the palace grounds to find the Galeskimmer parked outside and an exuberant Angus waiting for us on the lawn. Sable ran to him as soon as she could squeeze through the opening beside the loading ramp. They met like a thunderclap, Sable crying and Angus swinging her around as if she were still a little girl. In truth, they looked more like father and daughter than uncle and niece.