Blood and Iron (19 page)

‘It’s one of the Emperor’s army!’ he said. ‘One of the robots under my command!’ He looked closer. There was something strange about the body. The metal panelling didn’t look right, it didn’t look like steel and aluminium should . . .

‘It’s leather,’ he said softly, reaching out to touch the skin. ‘They took off the metal panelling and dressed him in animal skin.’

Wa-Ka-Mo-Do knew that he could not show his concern to his inferiors, yet it was a struggle to remain calm in the face of this obscenity. What minds would do this to a robot?

‘There was a note around his neck,’ said La-Ver-Di-Arussah.

She held out a thin sheet of foil with words inscribed upon it.
A human next time . . .

Wa-Ka-Mo-Do felt as if there was a current running through the metal of the note. It seemed to surge through his body, burning him.

‘When did they find him?’

‘Last night. The brothers who owned this place have vanished. There are rumours that they were involved with the resistance.’ Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah’s voice was laced with static. ‘These were robots who did this. Robots will suffer because of this. Children will lose their parents. Husbands will lose wives.’

Something occurred to him. ‘Does the Emperor know of this?’ he asked Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah.

‘Not yet.’

Wa-Ka-Mo-Do looked at the dead guard again. ‘Then he shan’t,’ he decided.

‘That isn’t your choice to make,’ observed La-Ver-Di-Arussah.

Wa-Ka-Mo-Do spun to face her.

‘Would you question my orders?’

‘Not at all, Honoured Commander,’ she replied, and she rested her hand on her sword. ‘But I consider it my duty to advise you.’

‘But not in such a manner that I lose face,’ replied Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, and he drew his own sword so quickly that even La-Ver-Di-Arussah’s eyes flashed in surprise. ‘And so for the second time I wonder if you are challenging me to a duel. Or would you rather apologize for insulting me before an inferior?’

‘Honoured Commander, I—’

‘Silence, Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah. Before you answer, La-Ver-Di-Arussah, I should explain. Whoever did this is expecting an extreme response. They are hoping that arrests will be made, and that examples will be set. They are hoping to see coils being crushed in Smithy Square as they believe that will galvanize the people to more acts of defiance and subversion.’

La-Ver-Di-Arussah remained motionless, her hand still on her sword.

‘Would you force the Emperor’s hand, La-Ver-Di-Arussah? I suggest that there are some things the Emperor would prefer not to know! Would you have it said that the Emperor knew of this outrage, of one of his soldiers humiliated so, and yet he stayed his hand for fear of inflaming the uprising that would lead to the humans being harmed?’

‘The Emperor does not fear the humans!’

‘Of course he does not. Yet who would seek a fight where none is necessary? Let us second guess those who perpetrated this atrocity, let us choose the cultured way, let us listen in the silence, let us ask the quiet question, and then, when we find the answer, strike quickly and mercilessly, decapitating this monster, rather than feeding it.’

La-Ver-Di-Arussah held his gaze for some time, and then, slowly, she withdrew her hand from her sword. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do resheathed his own.

‘You are right,
Honoured Commander
.’ There was the faintest edge of sarcasm to her words. ‘And I thank you for your instruction. May I say, it was never my intention to challenge you to a duel, or to hurt you.’ And she drew her own sword, brought it flashing through the air to stop just before Wa-Ka-Mo-Do’s head. He looked at the blade, so sharp, poised just between his eyes, watched as it fell to the ground, La-Ver-Di-Arussah’s hand still gripping the hilt.

All three robots looked to Wa-Ka-Mo-Do’s sword, they marvelled at the way it had been drawn and cut through the wrist, all in one movement.

‘And it was not my intention to hurt
you
,’ replied Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. ‘The hand will be easily reattached.’

‘Of course, Honoured Commander.’

Using her other hand, La-Ver-Di-Arussah took the sword from the floor, resheathed it, bowed, and then retrieved her hand. Just as she was leaving, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do called to her.

‘One last thing, La-Ver-Di-Arussah. What do you know of the city of Ell?’

‘Ell, Honoured Commander? What do you mean?’

She was hiding something, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do knew it.

‘It is nothing,’ he said.

La-Ver-Di-Arussah left, pushing her way through the leather curtain.

Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah waited until she was out of earshot and then turned to his commander, eyes glowing in awe.

‘Honoured Commander. Such speed—’

‘Do you know who this is?’ interrupted Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, pointing to the dead soldier.

‘Zil-Wa-Tem. Originally from Ka.’

Ka. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do had a momentary thought of Jai-Lyn.

‘Ka,’ he repeated. ‘Look at this leather, look how carefully it has been stitched to make this skin. Who can have done this?’

‘There is a whole market full of people out there who could have done it,’ said Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah.

‘Yes. But some of them will know.’

Wa-Ka-Mo-Do stared at the dead robot. Zil-Wa-Tem’s coil was cut, his eyes dim. Someone had pushed an awl up into his mind, tangling and shorting the twisted metal there.

‘I really don’t understand!’ said Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah in despair. ‘Where is this dissent coming from? The robots of Sangrel province are woven to be loyal. For generations loyal parents have woven loyalty into their children.

‘But loyalty to whom?’ asked Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, thoughtfully. ‘Loyalty to their Emperor, or to Sangrel, or to themselves?’

He came to a decision.

‘Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah, fetch two trusted soldiers. Strip this robot and then disassemble his body, carry it from this place. Then I want you to return here and take the skin. Carry it, carefully concealed, around the market, looking for robots who stitch leather for a trade, and show it to them, and when you show it to them, watch their reaction.’

‘Understood, Honoured Commander.’

‘I will return to the Copper Master’s house to think.’

Wa-Ka-Mo-Do rose to his feet. As he made to leave Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah called out to him.

‘Honoured Commander?’

‘Yes Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah?’

‘Are we right not to tell the Emperor what has happened here?’

‘Would you prefer that we take arms against this market place, Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah?’

The young robot didn’t say anything.

‘Then there is your answer.’

Kavan

The following day dawned tinged in silver. The strange light from the night before hung in the air, turning the rocks to the colour of metal. Kavan stood in a land of frozen mercury, solidified as it poured from the sky. The snow glinted oddly like quartz in neon.

Calor appeared before Kavan, her bright body covered in scratches. Melting snow dripped from her body.

‘There’s a trap ahead, Kavan,’ she said.

‘How far?’

‘Less than a mile. There’s a bridge, the biggest I’ve ever seen. It crosses between two mountains. Several Scouts have gone across it, none have come back.’

‘Can you see anything on the far side?’

‘Movement. I can’t tell what.’ Calor looked around and buzzed. ‘What’s happened to the moon, Kavan?’

‘I don’t know.’

He looked around for Ada. She was balancing on one leg, holding onto the wall of the road with one hand as she fiddled with her foot with the other.

‘Ada,’ he called. ‘What do you know about a bridge ahead?’

‘The Evening Bridge,’ she said. ‘It marks the border of Born.’

Kavan looked back to Calor.

‘They will guard their border. Whether they mean to attack us or allow us to pass remains to be seen. Come on, let’s go and see.’

Kavan stood near the start of the bridge, looking at the biggest bolt he had ever seen. It was screwed into a wide metal plate riveted into the black rock. Red paint covered the large mushroom rivets that held the construction against the mountainside. Turning around, Kavan saw a huge red pipe looping up into the air, arching out over the sheer drop of the chasm by which they stood, and then dropping down to the pier of stone that rose from the centre of the chasm, a stepping stone between the mountains. Another red pipe did the same in parallel, a hundred feet away. And suspended beneath these two pipes, a road.

It was a bridge, but a bridge like none that Kavan had ever seen before.

‘How come we never saw anything like this when we conquered these mountains?’

‘We never came this far west,’ answered Calor.

‘They have to keep it painted,’ said Ada, ‘or the iron would just flake away.’

‘How do they do it?’ wondered Kavan.

‘Magnetic feet,’ said Ada.

He gazed across the bridge, felt the wind whipping through his body.

‘It would be the easiest thing to defend the far side.’

‘Then what shall we do?’ asked Calor.

‘I’ll cross,’ said Kavan. ‘Perhaps they will speak to me.’

‘And if they don’t?’

‘The Uncertain Army will find its own way south. Ada can guide it out of the mountains, and after that Nyro’s will shall prevail.’

‘I’ll come with you, Kavan,’ said Calor. Kavan looked at the Scout, saw how she twitched and buzzed.

‘No, Calor. I need you to stay and organize the Scouts. Don’t let any more of them across.’

‘Okay, Kavan.’

Kavan stepped onto the bridge. So much metal, it was a wonder it hadn’t been taken and twisted into more minds and robots. Whoever guarded it must be strong indeed.

He began to walk, listening to the wind singing through the struts and cables, looking down at the peaks below him, wrapped in clouds and mist. This would be a clear blue morning, were it not for the fading silver light that filled the sky. Now Kavan reached the central pier: an island of stone on which an iron and brick support for the bridge had been built. He looked down. There were buildings there, clustered on this island in the sky, and on the roof of one, the silver body of a Scout lay, unmoving. Someone would retrieve the metal later, one way or another.

Now he moved on to the second span. He saw movement ahead. Figures on the other side of the bridge. More and more of them, crowding in. Robots, but oddly built. Too tall, too thin.

Kavan walked on. A robot detached itself from the group ahead and came forward onto the bridge to meet him. They met halfway across the second span, standing in the wind above the swirling mists below, the silver light fading from the sky above them.

‘You are Kavan, and behind you is your army.’

‘Sort of,’ said Kavan. ‘They may become my army. Will you join us or fight us?’

‘I haven’t yet decided.’

Kavan looked at the other robot. It was much taller and thinner than he was. Its limbs seemed to bend like springs when it moved, and Kavan wondered how it would look climbing from rock to rock up here in the mountains, how it would swing its body from ledge to ledge.

‘Who are you?’ he asked.

‘My name is Goeppert.’

‘Are you the leader of these troops?’

‘They aren’t troops, and I am not their leader. A robot must follow the path woven into its own mind. Some paths lead up into the mountains, and some down to the plains—’

‘No,’ said Kavan. ‘I have marched from the top to the bottom of this continent, and I have conquered all that I have seen. I’ve heard robots issue challenges, I’ve heard robots plead for mercy, and I have heard robots spout philosophy. It all means nothing to me in the end. Tell me who you are, Goeppert.

‘I am a Speaker. Some days ago another army came through these mountains. A small group of Artemisians. They were fleeing a robot named Kavan, they said that he might follow them down this path. They gave us much metal. Gold and silver, platinum, lead. Metals that we do not often see in these mountains. They promised us more if we were to fight him, should he come this way.’

‘And what did you say?’

‘We promised that we would, and we took the metal.’

Kavan shifted, his left side squeaking.

‘I would have promised the same,’ he said. ‘That way I would have the metal. So you will fight us?’

Goeppert held his gaze.

‘We don’t know. Promises made to lowlanders mean nothing.’

Silence in the silver light.

‘Then will you let us pass?’

‘What would you offer us if we were to do so?’

‘The chance to follow Nyro. I go to take control of Artemis.’

‘And if we allowed you to pass, but we chose to remain here?’

‘Then I would take my army to Artemis. If I were successful in my conquest I would someday return here and conquer this land.’

Goeppert smiled.

‘I think you might find that more difficult than you would imagine. Even so, I appreciate your honesty. The world is not an honest place at the moment. Even the sky is wrong.’