Survival Machines

by Ste Sharp

  ‘We fight for our majesty’s empire!’ came the response.

  Althorn remembered something Crossley and John had said about these soldiers belonging to an empire, but he couldn’t recall the details. The group had kept themselves aloof, insulated from the events which surrounded them, Althorn thought, so did they really know what was going on here?

  ‘Our mission is to remain alive and fight when needed,’ the voice shouted.

  ‘But we’re stronger together,’ Althorn replied. ‘Surely you can see that?’

  Silence.

  ‘How did you escape?’ Althorn asked.

  All he knew of these soldiers was the bewildering gears and gizmos they were always playing with.

  ‘Guile and deception,’ the voice replied.

  Althorn raised an eyebrow. Maybe one of them had an adaptation he was unaware of?

  ‘Like this metal man… this Lutamek you’re travelling in?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, no real bits of course – they can track them – but it’s our way of blending in.’

  ‘And seeing off would-be attackers,’ said another voice.

  Althorn shook his head and decided it wasn’t a good idea to disagree with them. ‘Where are you headed?’ he asked.

  ‘We need supplies. Move aside now, our quarrel is not with you.’

  Althorn sighed and shook his head.

  ‘There’s nothing out there,’ he said, casting his arm out to the empty desert, ‘apart from domes.’

  A bell rang out, followed by the cranking of gears. The forest of gun barrels slipped back through its holes, and the hollow Lutamek resumed its bizarre, clunking walk.

  Althorn stood to one side as it strode past him.

  ‘Good luck,’ he heard a voice call out from within.

  ‘Signal if you need us!’ Althorn shouted back, though he had no idea how they would ever find each other in this vast wilderness.

  Althorn’s shoulders slumped. It was time to return to base and explain what he had found. Lavalle would berate him for not convincing the redcoats to join their cause, but the group had more important goals. There were more important missions taking place after all.

  *

  Euryleia held herself as close as she could to the cliff face, gripping tight with every finger and toe. She kept her breathing steady, with her head close to one of her right hands, as she stared out at the shapes moving across the desert.

  Scouts.

  Their presence had slowed her party down, so their timings would have to shift, but that was why she always added in a little leeway. The scouts were unexpected, which meant the Ascent had either changed their scouting routine, or something big had drawn their attention. As far as she or Lavalle knew, their team of tocka-mounted resistance remained undiscovered and free to roam the desolate spaces where territories blended into the desert.

  Or maybe they had simply been left to die? Euryleia thought, knowing that was what her subconscious had been trying to tell her for days. No. Leaving this group of warriors to roam freely was a big mistake, she thought, as the tiny silhouettes of the scouts merged with their dust trail.

  Her eyes drifted and focussed on the back of her hand, sending an odd sensation through her. She twitched a tendon to remind herself this was her hand. It was her. It looked just like the hand she had lost when Ethan had blown himself up, but so did her other right hand. Her forearms, elbows… identical to before, just as it was with her left arms. Her real arms were lost in the explosion and these were just… tools. They felt the same, but she didn’t have the same affection for them. Euryleia smiled at the idea of explaining her thoughts to Lavalle.

  The dust cloud was far away now, so Euryleia turned her head slowly to scan the horizon.

  ‘Nobody in sight,’ she whispered and leaned back to see the rocky cliff face come alive with camouflaged soldiers, scaling back down.

  ‘Cheng.’ She called her second in command.

  A solemn man, with greying temples, Cheng was leader of the party of ancient Chinese warriors in the dome and they obeyed no one else.

  He nodded.

  ‘We must speed up to avoid capture.’ Euryleia thought fast as she spoke. ‘We’ll split into two parties to deliver the messages.’

  Cheng nodded again, then spat a series of lightning-fast orders to his crew, who split evenly and without sound.

  Euryleia took the left posse and handed Cheng the cloth.

  ‘Back here before sunset, or return to base,’ she said and the groups set off.

  They jogged with soft feet in an ever-changing formation, hoping to avoid disturbing the telltale dust or attracting the distant eyes of scouts or guards. Their clothing had been dyed to match their surroundings, but one of the group, Guang, had an ability which had come in useful many times. He could manipulate light to shield his compatriots, just as he had done during the battles in the dome, which was why Euryleia hadn’t seen the Chinese contingent fighting. In fact, if Cheng’s men hadn’t been between Euryleia’s group of tocka and the Lutamek, when they had turned on the army, they would have been captured.

  ‘Guang, create a haze,’ Cheng ordered.

  Euryleia felt what she could only describe as a softness rise up from the ground itself and set a shimmer in the air around her. She had seen the practice at work from a distance and those shielded had simply vanished from view.

  A few minutes later, Euryleia gave Cheng a nod as they ran and the group split in two. Their destination was nearer, she thought, so they could do without Guang’s protection.

  A grey line wavered on the horizon ahead: their target. Euryleia raised a fist and her group lined up behind her.

  ‘Nearest guards?’ she asked.

  ‘One on the far right,’ Sancha, a Chachapoyas warrior with the ability to focus on distant objects, replied. ‘The half-blind one with a keen sense of smell.’

  Euryleia relaxed a little. They had bypassed this guard before. The barbarians who ruled this land believed in demoralising and splitting up captured armies, and several humans had been discovered in the isolated farms which lay on the edge of their inhabited regions. Lavalle had said what Euryleia had been thinking: to destroy an army you divide and conquer. So, if they were going to fight back, they had to reunite.

  They were getting close now and, without Guang’s protection, Euryleia was concerned they would be seen. ‘Any movement?’ she asked.

  ‘No,’ Sancha replied.

  Euryleia held her lower right hand out and flattened her palm. They would crawl from here.

  The sun was low in the sky when the group made it to the edge of the plantation, where rows of stubby red bulges tipped with black spikes made patterns in the desert sand. They had been here before, and although Euryleia was keen not to duplicate their methods, she knew their contact would be active here tomorrow, during the harvest.

  Leaving her group behind, Euryleia crawled forward, imagining she looked like a giant ant on her six appendages. The guard had made his pass minutes before, so Euryleia headed for the nearest row of almost-ripe crops. She dragged her body between two rows, dug a hole beneath what looked like a swollen beetroot and pushed the cloth inside. She covered her marks and scuttled backwards, erasing her tracks as she crawled.

  The most dangerous part was over, she thought, but no time for complacency. Steadily, keeping her eyes on the field, Euryleia reversed into the open ground. The message Cheng was delivering was different to hers, but just as important. As she crawled back to her team, ready to make it back into the open desert, she pictured the words and made a quick prayer that their contact would get the message and know what to do. Two simple words which made it sound easy but, if anyone could do it, she had faith this man could.

  Fr ee Mata .

  *

  Isao kept himself in the shadow world but let his hands appear in the real world as he filled his canteen with water from a filter trap. The Firstborn army who ran this segment of land were frugal, he thought. No city to administer, control
and feed – just a series of forts manned by loyal warriors, supplied by raided food and these water filters.

  Since leaving his hollow, Isao had tracked a scouting group to a hidden food store, marked with an infrared circle, which he could easily spot with his shadow eyes.

  Keeping a safe distance back, Isao listened to the myriad species talk while they rested.

  ‘But I’d be safe in the city,’ a reptilian soldier said after openly suggesting she could defect.

  ‘You can’t just walk over the line and become Ascent,’ a tall creature covered in horned armour said, ‘they would interrogate you – torture you, to make sure you weren’t a spy.’

  ‘Controlling the land means almost as much as the tower,’ a third, small, squat creature added.

  ‘I could give them information,’ the reptilian said.

  ‘And they could sell you back as a traitor – it’s not worth it,’ the armoured soldier replied.

  After a pause, the squat scout said, ‘I’ve heard there’ll be another swap soon.’

  The others looked at him.

  ‘Some of the scrawny runners Das and Pod captured – the Ascent want them and we can get our troops back. Easy trade.’

  ‘They should get rid of that thing as well while we have the chance,’ the armoured one said. ‘It stinks and uses up food.’

  ‘They’re holding out for a better price,’ said another.

  ‘Well, let’s get rid of it now,’ the tall one said. ‘Keep the runners. Use them as scouts. I’m fed up with this constant travelling here and…’

  Isao turned and let the words fade in the wind. He’d heard enough and knew he had to travel to the fort on the border with the Ascent land. It overlooked the lush fields the Firstborn soldiers longed to plunder and only the constant presence of Ascent guards prevented them taking the fresh food for themselves.

  It took Isao a day to reach his destination.

  Despite the hostility between these two groups, Isao could tell by the well-trodden sand between the fort and the Ascent guard post that this was a trading station. Isao waited, remaining in the shadow world. Then, with the sun at its zenith, the fort door creaked open and a posse of Firstborn soldiers strolled across to the border, placed a long-barrelled gun in a box and returned with a set of boxes full of fresh food: red bulges; green leaves; and yellow stalks. This was why they captured new armies. They needed weapons to pay for food.

  Isao was tempted to sneak into the fort as he crept behind the soldiers, and would have snuck in through the gate if his instinct to survive hadn’t cut in. He had to avoid capture. He circled the fort, listening to cries of torture and whimpers of hunger from within the ramshackle building, the rusted walls and open roof of which gave little protection to those inside. From the red hearts he could see, scores of prisoners were held in fetid pits in the ground. Then he glimpsed a pair of eyes on a wall and froze. Who knew what abilities some of these species had? He couldn’t risk being sensed by any of them, so crept away to a rock, behind which he crouched and waited some more.

  Noise rose from the fort by the evening, and Isao was rewarded with new activity. He remained in the shadow world, watching the glowing red hearts in the inky silhouettes. More soldiers left the fort: two rows flanking new creatures, dragging crates and boxes, followed by a trail of chained prisoners. They must have emptied the fort, Isao thought, as the line of dishevelled beings was ushered and beaten along the path to the Ascent border.

  On the other side, on Ascent land, stood a welcoming committee of four individuals of such varied nature it made Isao smile. He crept forward for a closer look: one was a human-sized mass of fur; another stood bulky and broad with a white skull beside what looked to Isao like a many-legged bamboo puppet; and there was the huge, unmistakeable shape of a Lutamek soldier.

  ‘We give thanks for your offerings,’ said the foremost Firstborn guard.

  ‘And we appreciate your timely payments,’ replied the hairy beast.

  ‘We have much to trade,’ the Firstborn guard said. ‘Do you have our kin?’

  ‘Yes,’ the insect puppet clicked.

  A screening device Isao had been unaware of, even from within the shadow world, dropped to reveal a gang of more than twenty aliens behind the Lutamek, some of which matched the styles and features of the Firstborn guards he had seen.

  ‘We are told these humans are valuable,’ the Firstborn guard struck the nearest human, who didn’t respond but took a step forward, allowing Isao to see his face.

  Isao gasped: it was Gal-qadan!

  ‘These are not your most valuable assets,’ the Lutamek boomed.

  ‘No,’ the Firstborn guard replied. ‘We expect all of our comrades in return for these humans and your kin.’

  Two boxes were toppled over and two spheres rolled out: the Lutamek eggs Gal-qadan had stolen. Isao couldn’t see the Mongol’s face clearly enough, but he could imagine how he looked. Not only had he been betrayed and his army captured, but his prize assets were being bargained away before his eyes.

  ‘This is a fair trade,’ the insect clacked and gestured for the swap to take place.

  ‘Yet there is more,’ the Lutamek said and pointed at the final box.

  ‘Ah, yes,’ the Firstborn guard rubbed its claws against its hips, ‘for this we expect a greater trade… a cycle’s worth of fresh food would suffice.’

  ‘No,’ the furred beast growled and turned, showing Isao some of its muscular strength.

  ‘The price is too high,’ the insect clicked.

  The Firstborn guard waited a few silent seconds, then said, ‘You have already scanned the contents and know its value.’

  The comment was addressed to the Lutamek, who took a step forward. ‘Yes.’

  Isao felt his heart speed up. Why was the Lutamek acting strangely? Normally they were quick-witted and one step ahead, but this one had been caught out. What was in the box? With his shadow-world eyes, Isao could see a silhouette inside with a green diamond shape for a heart.

  ‘And its worth?’ the Firstborn guard asked.

  ‘It is a good trade,’ the Lutamek said. ‘We will cover the costs,’ it said, before walking away from them, in the direction of Isao.

  ‘What is it?’ one of the Ascent asked.

  ‘A Velluta,’ the Firstborn guard said. ‘I doubt you’ve seen one before.’

  ‘Out trade is complete!’ the Lutamek shouted, and raised a hand to start the swap, but carried on walking towards Isao. ‘No more questions.’

  Isao watched the humans walk into Ascent territory and the Firstborn soldiers pass back into their realm. He moved to one side to peer around the Lutamek but it changed direction with him. Isao paused and looked up at the metal giant. He spotted a grey sphere between its eyes and found it familiar.

  ‘But I still have questions,’ the Lutamek said, apparently to no one.

  An orange beam flashed from the Lutamek and Isao dropped out of the shadow world. He tried to run but his legs felt heavy, like stone.

  ‘For you, human,’ the Lutamek said, reaching down to grab Isao, ‘I have many questions.’

  Chapter 14

  John rubbed his eyes with the rough fingers of his good hand as his vision adjusted to the dim light. He was in an enormous underground cave rich with body-odour stench, where dishevelled aliens stumbled in lines under the gaze of huge, white-headed guards.

  ‘Get up!’ a voice cracked.

  John saw a new species looming over him. Spiky, but not as bulky as the other guards, this one held a weapon in his hand, aimed at John’s head.

  ‘Alright!’ John said and raised his hands.

  The tall, stone-like alien seemed to glow, as John saw its eyes fix on his mechanical hand. Was this one of the Ladrof which had defeated the Brakari?

  ‘Has it been checked?’ the Ladrof shouted over its shoulder.

  ‘The Lutamek said it’s fine,’ a voice shouted from around the corner.

  The Ladrof stared John in the eyes. ‘Failed th
e test, did we?’

  ‘I…’ John looked from the guard to his metal hand and back again. ‘It wasn’t the right fit.’

  The Ladrof holstered its weapon and mumbled, ‘This is your new home. You need to know the rules. You dig, sleep, eat and shit. Anything else and,’ he tapped its neck, ‘you die. Got it?’

  John nodded and opened his mouth to ask what they were digging for.

  The Ladrof tapped him on the forehead with a rectangular finger. ‘No questions – just walk,’ it pointed to one of the scores of dark passages which led from the main chamber, ‘and dig.’

  John set off, with his head low, and felt the air thicken as he walked into the descending, narrow cave. Lights glowed from scoops in the wall every twenty strides, and passing places had been carved every fifty. John received a nudge in the shoulder to walk past any branching caves, reminding him the Ladrof was behind him. How could anyone find their way around these warrens?

  ‘Don’t even think about running off and hiding down here,’ the Ladrof said, as if reading John’s thoughts. ‘We tour the tunnels every night and set off the primers.’ It tapped the pin in the back of John’s neck. ‘So if you’re not where you’re supposed to be, you end up dead.’

  ‘Right,’ John said, feeling what little energy he still had drain away.

  ‘Keep moving!’

  John sped up and turned the next corner to where a small cave opened up, its floor littered with holes two strides’ wide, each with a strange symbol carved next to the opening. Between the rows of holes at the far end of the cave, a white-skulled guard patrolled the narrow walkway. A green light shone on each symbol as the Ladrof scanned for John’s assigned workplace until…

  The light on the floor flashed red.

  ‘In here,’ the Ladrof ordered, then spoke to its comrade. ‘A new one for you. I’ve heard Bensha have taken a liking to human flesh.’

  The guard responded with a deep laugh, and John felt the white-headed guard’s eyes on him as he sat down and dangled his feet in the hole.

  ‘He’s another one of the Lutamek’s chosen ones,’ the Ladrof said. ‘Another failure.’