On her way forward, River found the rest of the train quiet. The railcars were dark and empty, save for the dining car, where Shayla had fallen asleep on Thane’s shoulder in one of the booths. Not far away, Vann and Loren were quietly immersed in a game of cards.
When she finally reached the locomotive, River found that Socrates had erected a retractable canvas canopy over the empty area where the tender car had been. It was similar to the canopies that connected the other cars together, making them watertight and safe to traverse during travel, though the canvas was only a temporary solution.
He led her through the empty space, into the locomotive’s cab. Once they were both inside, he settled into the co-pilot’s chair. “If you look at the map table, you will see that I have prepared the necessary tools and instructions,” he said.
“Socrates-”
“Don’t argue with me. You and I both know what needs to be done. My only regret is that it must be you who carries this burden. Once I remove my fuel chamber…”
“Will you die?” she said. Her voice cracked with the question.
Socrates stared at her. His face was serene, accepting. “I do not know the answer. My memory banks are fragile. The circuitry is… primitive. Even if these systems remain intact, I will most likely lose all of my memories. If I survive, I may be nothing more than a machine, as I was originally created.”
“How can that be? You’re the most sophisticated machine in the world. You have consciousness!”
“I was not created so. My Creator gave me knowledge and the ability to reason, which was all I needed to perform my required tasks. It was later, in those pools of starfall, that I became more. It was there that I became self-aware. I learned the nature of this world; what it means to live, and to take life. What it means to survive.”
River clasped her hands together and stared into the glowing embers in the firebox. “Then the starfall changed you? Just like the Tal’mar and the Kanters?”
“It is ironic, is it not?” He heaved a great, beastlike sigh. “If only we had had more time together, child. There are wonders in this world, things from our past… even things in Sanctuary that would confound your imagination… And the road ahead! What stories we would have shared. But alas, that is not for this life. Now hurry, and do what you must while there is still time.”
“I’ll find more starfall when we get out of here,” she said. “I’ll go after Burk-”
“No! I absolutely forbid it. If you make it safely through the Forgotten Sea, then you must head straight for New Boston with all haste. There you will find civilization, and safety. Perhaps even a link to our past that you have not yet guessed. Mayor Cronwyn spoke of the place in glowing terms. I know at least that you and the others will be reasonably safe there.”
“I don’t care about all of that. Will they have starfall?” River hesitated as she felt tears welling up. She tried to force them back. Socrates noted this, and smiled admiringly.
“You are strong,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. His voice was a low rumble, a strange and yet somehow comforting mingling between human, animal, and machine. “You will go on without me. You don’t need me to survive, River. Against all odds, you found your way to Sanctuary. No one helped you. No one carried you. When I am gone, you will go on, even stronger than before.”
He opened the compartment at the front of his torso, revealing a complex array of machinery and a hollow chamber. At the center of it all was a copper canister about the size of a wine bottle. Socrates took River’s hands, and placed them on the canister.
“You must do it now,” he said. “Whatever you do, do not spill the starfall. It is the last we have.”
“I can’t.”
Socrates glanced out the window. She followed his gaze.
“Do you see them?” he said. “The Forgotten are gathering all around us. They are on the train, underneath it, seeking out its weaknesses. Soon the others will come, the strong ones. They will forget their fear and remember their anger. It is only a matter of time. If you wait any longer, they will find a way in.”
A dark shape flitted across the window, and River heard the rustling and scratching sounds of one of the Forgotten clambering across the roof. She glanced up, her eyes roving back and forth as she tried to locate the creature. Socrates tightened his grip on her wrists.
“Now,” he said, and twisted.
River felt the canister slide free, and the weight of it dropped into her hands. Her eyes widened as Socrates went perfectly still. There was an unwinding sound as his pupils dilated, and the breath in his lungs evacuated. River reached out, touching his face, stroking the dense fur along his jaw. Tears misted her eyes. She swayed, tried to draw her gaze away from him, but couldn’t. Somehow, Socrates didn’t look the same. With the animation gone, it seemed that somehow, his soul was gone.
Was there any such thing? How had Socrates been so different from her, or anyone else? He had feelings, she knew that much. Socrates had compassion and courage, and he understood friendship better than most humans she had known. But if all that was true, it meant -soul or not- that Socrates truly had been alive. And now, he was dead.
There was a loud crack at the window, and River flinched. She saw the vicious, demonic face of a Forgotten staring back at her through the broken glass. The bloodshot serpentine eyes glowed with menace. The creature hammered on the glass with both fists, and River’s hand instinctively went for her revolver. Only it wasn’t there. Her revolver was still hanging on the wall next to her bed, and it wasn’t even loaded.
River blinked away her tears. She leapt to the furnace. The main burner was a large chamber designed for coal and wood, but the secondary was a special high-pressure chamber that could control the intense explosive energy of burning starfall. River opened the funnel and poured the contents of the copper canister into the chamber. She locked the pressure chamber, and activated the lighting mechanism.
Even though Socrates had explained it to her at least three times, River still wasn’t sure how the thing worked. All she knew was that with the push of a button, a single spark ignited the starfall. It worked every single time, and this was no exception. She hit the button and heard the loud rush of an explosion, like an inferno raging through a building in slow motion. The outside rim of the chamber immediately became warm to the touch.
River turned the valves, releasing the heat into the boiler. As she did this, she heard an awful ripping sound just behind the cab. She spun around just in time to see a long black arm reaching through the fabric. River snatched a wrench from the counter and leapt out of the cab. She took a wild swing, crashing the wrench into the creature’s forearm. The Forgotten responded by leaping back, away from the opening. Instantly, it started ripping another hole at the opposite end. River rushed to that one, but the creature leaped forward, back to the first. With a snarl, it forced its way through the opening and dropped to the floor.
River lunged for the cab, but the Forgotten leapt into her path. It bared its fangs, the slanted pupils in its huge yellow eyes glistening like a viper’s. It lashed out with razor-sharp claws and River danced back, brandishing the wrench. Off to her right, the fabric made a ripping noise and another clawed hand appeared.
Chapter 10
River heard a loud hissing noise from the Iron Horse’s engine. It was one of the pressure regulators venting steam to prevent an explosion. The boiler was already up to temperature. Their precious supply of fuel was dwindling away already. Socrates had sacrificed himself to give them a chance, and it was being squandered with every passing second. If River didn’t get the Iron Horse rolling, the Forgotten Sea would be their graveyard.
River swung at the creature with her wrench, but it ducked out of the way, snapping with sharp, fanglike teeth. A second arm reached down through the canopy overhead, and caught her by the hair. River turned, crying out as she reached for the arm. Her hand closed on cold, slimy flesh. She dropped the wrench, using both hands to free herself as th
e roots of her hair began to rip painfully out of her scalp.
The first Forgotten lunged forward, raking her thigh with its claws. River’s cloth breeches gave little resistance, and the claws dug deep into her flesh. An animalistic fury came over her. River snarled. She yanked on the arm, splitting the fabric, and the second Forgotten came tumbling down on top of her. In its panic, the creature lost its grip on her hair. River rolled away as they hit the floor.
Instantly, she was back on her feet. She kicked out, driving her boot into the creature’s ribs. It howled painfully, and River used this opportunity to retrieve the wrench from the floorboards. The first attacker saw this as an opening, and tried to tackle her. As it came within reach, she brought the wrench around in a back-handed attack aimed at the side of the creature’s face. She struck a glancing blow across the top of its skull, and the Forgotten wailed in pain. It dove for the corner.
River turned back to the second Forgotten, squatting down before her. She heaved the wrench high over her head and brought it down with both hands. The monster’s skull shattered and it dropped to the floor, limbs twitching. River turned her gaze on the first. The creature moaned and burrowed deeper into the corner, as if trying to will itself to disappear. She stepped over the body of the slain monster, and circled towards the cab. The Forgotten did not move from its hiding place.
River stepped into the cab. She turned the pressure valves one by one, channeling the steam properly into the engine. She gave the steam whistle a long tug, warning the crew to steady themselves, and then she released the brake. As the Iron Horse began to move, the canvas fabric shook behind her, and three more of the Forgotten ripped their way inside. River slid the door shut and the creatures leapt forward, hammering on the glass, snarling and drooling like rabid animals. One of the creatures discovered the door’s mechanism and it slid open with no resistance. The creature came rushing at her.
River snatched the wrench off the counter and swung with all her might. In the close quarters of the cab, the creature had no escape. The wrench blasted him in the chest, and the Forgotten fell backwards through doorway, where it collapsed with a shudder. As the others came at her, River stepped back and tried to pull the door shut, but the body of her slain opponent had blocked its path. River tried to kick the corpse out the way, but it was dead weight.
She stepped out of the cab. The other three, having seen what happened to their companion, moved cautiously back out of reach. River circled around towards the next car, hoping to get safely behind a door that she could actually lock. The Forgotten snarled and lunged at her, but lacked the courage to mount a full attack. River swung the wrench, kicking and throwing punches, fighting her way across the car.
The Forgotten were small, but they were savage and strong. Their sharp claws ripped into her arms, her thighs; one of them latched onto her leg and began to gnaw on her calf. River swung the wrench and brained the monster in a single blow. It fell dead at her feet and the others backed away, their fears reignited by her viciousness.
River reached the door at last. She undid the latch, stepped inside, and flung it shut. The creatures watched her from their safe position outside the window as she twisted the lock tight, sealing the boxcar. River glanced out the side windows into the cavern, and saw that the Forgotten had begun streaming into the cave by the hundreds. Down the length of the cars, they had begun to climb onto the roofs.
The train rolled on, unstoppable in its momentum now, pilotless as the mouth of the sea opened up before it. A moment later, the Iron Horse plunged into the abyss. Icy water cascaded through the openings in the fabric of the empty tender car, instantly flooding the area. The Forgotten panicked. They tried to abandon the train, but the churning waters swept their feet out from under them. They were helpless as the water forced them to the floor, hammering down on them, bubbles churning up wildly all around them. After that, it became impossible for River to see what was happening. Darkness closed in, and along with it, silence.
The Horse rolled through a brief tunnel and in the pale luminescent glow of the cave walls, River saw the bodies of the drowned Forgotten floating past the windows, up through the openings in the canvas, and out to sea where they quickly vanished. River dropped into the nearest seat, shaking, blood streaming from a thousand cuts all over her body. Through the haze outside the window, she could see Socrates’ form in the locomotive cab, swaying gently with the movement of the train and the water swirling around him.
River dropped her face into her hands. Her shoulders shook gently as she began sobbing. The world around her was silent, save for the quiet whoosh of water across the surface of the train, and the low thunderous cha-chug, cha-chug of the engine powering through the water. After a few minutes, River heard voices in the distance. She dried her tears on what was left of the fabric of her shirt, and then waited for the others to arrive. Shortly they appeared, carrying lanterns, driving back the darkness as they entered the passenger car.
Thane was first inside. He rushed to River’s side, his eyes full of concern as he began inspecting her wounds. The others filed in behind, until at last it seemed that the entire crew had crowded into that one passenger car. Thane raced back to the infirmary for some first aid supplies. While he was gone, Micah stumbled in. His face looked groggy and his leg was still wrapped, but it seemed to be carrying his weight well enough. The others made way for him as he approached River.
“Your leg,” she said as he appeared. “Is it healed?”
“Enough to walk on,” he said, staring wide-eyed into her face. “Thanks to Loren and the other Tal’mar. River, what happened while I was asleep?”
River began to explain all that had happened. While she was speaking, Thane returned with some salve and bandages. Micah took them from him, and began tending her wounds while he listened to her story.
“Socrates is out there alone?” Shayla said, when River paused in her story. She gazed out into the murky darkness. “But will the water not damage him? What if something happens?”
“Nothing can damage him now,” River said bluntly. “It’s because of Socrates that the train is moving at all.”
Micah looked up into her face. “River, what are you saying?”
The room went quiet. River fought to control her voice as she described what Socrates had done. They listened to her story with mouths agape, eyes brimming with moisture.
“Socrates… gave his life for us?” said Micah. He looked up into her face with tears welling up in his eyes. River glanced at the others, a look of resigned helplessness on her face.
“I don’t understand,” said Thane. “Who is driving the train?”
River closed her eyes and leaned back against the cold window, feeling the moist condensation seep into her hair. The room spun.
“No one,” she said quietly.
Their voices rose in a clamor. River felt herself falling into sleep, and she fought it. She forced her eyes open, blinking against the lantern light. She caught the handrail on the back of the seat and pulled herself to her feet.
“Enough!” she said, raising her voice as loud as she could manage. It wasn’t a shout, but the sound resonated in the closeness of the room. The others fell silent, staring at her. “Everyone get back to the dining car. I’ll explain the situation after you’ve all had some time to calm down.”
They began to protest and argue amongst themselves, but Thane cut them off. “Stop!” the bard shouted, climbing up on one of the seats. “Listen! In the absence of Socrates, we must elect a new commander. I nominate River as the commander of the Iron Horse.”
“I second that nomination!” Micah shouted. Vann agreed, as did a handful of others just for good measure.
“It’s done then,” Thane said. “River is now our leader. You heard what she said: All hands to the dining car, now!”
They filed out of the room, leaving Micah and River standing alone with one small lantern. Micah’s sharp features seemed somehow smoothed out by the darkness, almost chil
dlike. Tears stained his cheeks as he looked up at her.
“Will you be able to save him?” he said.
River collapsed back onto the bench seat. “With starfall and enough time, I might make him operational again,” she said. “The question is, will he still be Socrates? Will he have his memories, his personality? When I asked, Socrates didn’t believe so.”
“Then he truly is dead,” Micah said, staring down at his hands. “Our great leader, our machine…” He stared up into her face, his eyes pleading. “But you will try, won’t you? You can at least do that much.”
River sighed. “Socrates forbade it.”
“I don’t understand… why would he do that?”
“He made me swear to act in the interests of the crew, to see them safely to New Boston. I wanted to go after our starfall, but Socrates wouldn’t allow it.”
“You can’t mean that. You can’t just leave him like this!”
River pushed groggily to her feet. She headed for the next railcar, and left Micah standing silent and alone in a pool of light. The dark windows turned to mirrors around him. He tried not to see his reflection, not to think of Socrates out there in the darkness, the icy water soaking into his gears and machinery, rust eating away at his insides, but the images came unbidden to his mind. For once, Micah had no desire to put them on paper.
River found the others gathered in the dining car, just as she had commanded. Thane noticed her standing in the doorway, and he whistled for everyone’s attention. River stepped up to the bar, where she could see all their faces. She tried not to slur her words, but the intoxicating effect of the salve made it difficult.
“I know that you’re all worried,” she said. “That’s understandable. I can assure you that the worst part of our journey is over. The starfall that Socrates… gave us will be enough to reach the end of the Forgotten Sea. In a few hours, we will be on dry land.”
Killing the Machine (Aboard the Great Iron Horse Book 2) Page 8