Blood and Iron (24 page)

Karel

Karel turned up the brightness of his eyes. Just inside the mine entrance was a wide chamber, the only illumination the glow from the small forge in the centre of the room. The air was filled with smoke, and through the haze he made out the shapes of three other robots. Peering closer, he found them to be in a poorer state than Gail and Fleet.

‘Don’t be like that,’ said Gail, noticing his reaction. ‘Or are you afraid of us? Come on, what could we do to harm you? Look at us! Too weak, too far gone. Here, let’s drag your friend to the fire.’

They dragged Melt closer, and Karel took a look at the forge. There was a bucket of coal next to it; he weighed a piece in his hand.

‘This is good quality,’ he said. ‘Where do you get it from?’ No one answered.

‘What happened to him?’ asked a very thin robot, half crawling, half dragging herself up to Melt’s great cast-iron body. She ran a hand over Melt’s chest, feeling the metal there.

‘He won’t say,’ said Karel. ‘He seems to have been permanently joined to that body somehow.’

‘Levine will be able to help you,’ said Gail. ‘Would you like metal?’ She brought forward two strips of iron. ‘We have some oil, too.’ Fleet came up, carrying brass and tin.

Karel gazed at the iron that Gail held. Like the coal it was of good quality. He turned his gaze to her rusted body.

‘There is more to life than metal,’ said Gail, answering his unspoken question. ‘Come, take this. Perhaps it will help your friend.’ She pushed the metal towards him. Five pairs of eyes gazed through the smoke at Karel, and he felt a growing sense of unease.

‘We don’t need metal,’ repeated Gail. ‘We repaired ourselves not that long ago. Come, use this metal on yourself. Look here . . .’

She crossed the room to another robot lying on the floor, arms and legs so bent as to be useless. Her steel plate was punctured by crumbling circles of rust.

‘Look at her chest,’ she said. ‘Look at her electromuscle, how kinked it is. She’s draining her own lifeforce away.’

‘And yet she’s happy,’ said Levine, and the woman who lay on the floor increased the glow of her eyes by way of confirmation. ‘She understands the truth: that metal is not the sum total of a robot’s life. Look at your friend. He understands the trouble that metal can bring.’

They all looked at Melt, who was stirring feebly on the floor, trying to sit up.

‘Relax,’ said Gail. ‘Lie back and let the fire dry you. Let Levine take away some of the metal that troubles you.’

Levine was still running her hands over Melt’s body, feeling the metal there.

‘I can do something for him,’ she said.

‘Levine is a great craftsrobot,’ said Gail. ‘She was a princess in one of the mountain states, born to a body of steel and silver and gold. She walked here dressed in the finest metals, bent into patterns that you would marvel to see.’

‘I realized that such things are nothing but vanity,’ said Levine, and she ran her hand over Melt’s body, peeling away the finest shavings of iron. Karel was impressed. His wife had been a great shaper of metal, too. The skill that Levine evinced showed her to be at least her equal. And this was in that poorly constructed body.

‘Is this something to do with the Book of Robots?’ asked Karel, suddenly.

‘The Book of Robots?’ asked Levine. ‘No? What is that?’

‘The Book of Robots is a fallacy,’ said Gail.

‘Then you’ve heard of it?’

‘I read it once, or at least part of it.’

‘You read it? When? Where?’

Gail smiled and shook her head.

‘It doesn’t matter, Karel. Don’t you see, that such things are not of interest? The Book of Robots simply shows another way of twisting metal, and metal does not concern us here.’

Levine continued to scrape thin flakes of iron from Melt’s body. It didn’t seem to be hurting him.

‘I’ve travelled in the north,’ said Karel. ‘I heard many robots talk of the Book of Robots. I never met anyone who actually read it.’

‘Karel,’ smiled Gail. ‘It doesn’t matter. Let’s not speak of it.’

‘But I want to,’ said Karel. He felt uncertain and uneasy, and when Karel felt like that his anger kindled. His mother had woven that into his mind.

‘Who are you all?’

‘I’m Gail, I come from the north. Fleet walked the Northern Road. Levine and Carm came from the mountain states, and Vale came from sea. We help travellers who come into difficulty on the Northern Road.’

Fleet bent and collected together the scraps of metal from the floor that Levine had scraped from Melt; he rolled them together into a ball.

‘Why don’t you take that metal and use it to repair your voicebox?’ asked Karel in frustration. Fleet just shrugged and handed Karel the metal.

Karel still felt uneasy, but his anger was slowly passing. These people were different, but there seemed to be no harm in them. And Levine definitely seemed to be doing Melt some good.

‘There’s lead inside him,’ she said. ‘Why would anyone fill a robot with lead?’

‘Can you remove it without hurting him?’ asked Karel.

‘Not all of it,’ said Levine. ‘But I’ll do what I can.’

‘Are you sure you don’t want any metal?’ asked Gail, pushing the strips of iron towards him once more.

‘I’m fine,’ said Karel.

Time passed to the slow scraping of metal. There was something strangely satisfying about this place, a sense that things no longer mattered. All the pain, all the exertion: wouldn’t it be easier just to sit back and let the world pass by?

It was with some surprise that Karel looked out of the mine entrance and noticed that night had fallen. Fleet had gone, he realized. But when? And where to? He realized then just how sluggish his thoughts had become.

There was a hum of current and suddenly Melt sat up. He looked around at the circle of swarf in which he sat.

‘I feel so much better,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’

‘I could do so much more, if you gave me the time.’

‘I’m sorry, we have to move on.’ Melt flexed his arms and shoulders.

‘We understand.’

‘I want to thank you for your help,’ said Melt. ‘If there is anything we can do for you?’

Through the smoke that filled the chamber, Karel saw how Gail and the rest of the robots smiled at that.

‘You could accept a gift from us,’ said Gail. ‘Would you do that?’

‘We would be delighted,’ said Melt, not seeming to notice the look that Karel directed towards him.

‘Then, please, take these, as a token of our respect for you.’

Gail held out both hands. A scrap of silver wire lay on each palm.

‘Thank you,’ said Melt, reaching out to take one. Karel pushed the leaden robot’s hand away. He leaned forward suspiciously, to get a better look at the gifts. Two pieces of metal, two scraps of silver wire.

‘What’s the matter, Karel?’ said Melt. ‘It’s only metal . . .’

Karel peered closer. It
was
only metal. So what was wrong? And then he saw it.
They were moving.

‘No!’ shouted Karel, slapping Gail’s hands away. The two twists of metal flew somewhere in the room.

‘Oh Karel,’ said Gail, in such disappointed tones that Karel felt ashamed of himself. ‘It was a gift!’

Melt lurched to his feet, heavy body at the ready to fight.

‘What is it, Karel?’

‘Worms!’ said Karel. ‘No wonder they care so little about metal!’

‘Worms?’ said Melt, confused.

‘A story from the Northern Lands. Worms that creep into your head whilst you are sleeping, they twist themselves into the metal of your mind. They work on your thoughts, twisting the wire in your head into copies of themselves.’

‘They bring peace and happiness and understanding,’ said Gail. ‘How can you condemn what you haven’t tried?’

‘And you did say you would accept our gift,’ reminded Levine, the former princess. She had retrieved the two twists of silver from where they had fallen. Now she held them out on one thin, bent palm. Karel saw them wriggling, sensing the lifeforce in his mind, turning their little blunt upper ends in his direction.

‘We’re leaving now,’ said Karel turning to go. Something was blocking the mine entrance. Fleet. There were four other robots with him. These robots were nowhere near as badly rusted as Gail and the rest. Two of them wore the bodies of Artmesian infantry.

‘All the robots who take the worms return here in the end,’ said Gail. ‘They come back to the spawning ground.’

‘Try it,’ said Levine. ‘You promised.’

Melt swung a heavy cast iron arm and smashed her hands away.

‘Stop that!’ shouted one of the infantryrobots by the door.

‘Peace,’ said Gail. ‘Metal doesn’t matter, Kerban. You will see that in time.’

Kerban? That was an Artemisian name! To think that an Artemisian would come to believe that metal was not important! They had to go, now.

‘Let us past,’ he said.

Fleet moved to push him back into the chamber. The two infantryrobots stepped forward to help.

‘Hold them down,’ said Gail. ‘Once the worms enter their minds we will let them go as they please. They will return here in the end.’

The two infantryrobots seized Karel’s arms. He tried to tug them free.

‘Easy,’ said one of them.

Karel kicked down, dented a robot’s shin. It didn’t care.

‘Melt!’ he said. ‘Run!’

Run? The word was ridiculous. Even scraped of metal as he was, Melt could barely walk. He knew it. Gail knew it. She hadn’t even bothered to try and restrain the heavy robot.

‘Let him go,’ said Melt.

‘Melt, don’t be stupid! Get away!’

‘Are you suggesting I have so little honour?’ said Melt. ‘I used to be a soldier.’ And he reached into the fire with both hands and pulled out two burning coals. The robots in the chamber watched, frozen, as he pushed them into the neck of one of the infantry-robots, screwing them back and forth, squeezing hot coal past the panelling. The robot let out an electronic squeal and Karel pulled his arm free of its grasp. Now Melt clasped his hands together and brought them down as hard as he could on the head of the other robot, badly denting the metal skull.

The other robots moved forward. Melt took hold of one of them and pulled backwards, using his considerable weight against it. He swung the robot around and slammed it into the others with a ringing crash.

‘Now we run,’ said Melt.

Out of the cave, into the darkness, sliding down the rain-soaked grass.

Karel and Melt tumbled down the slope, rolling back towards the town, scraping on stones, slipping on the turf.

They reached the bottom in a tangled clash of metal. With some difficulty, they got to their feet, bodies badly dented.

‘They’re not following us,’ said Karel, looking backwards.

‘They won’t. We’re too much trouble.’

‘Where did you learn to fight like that?’ asked Karel, eyes bright so he could see Melt in the darkness.

‘I . . . don’t remember,’ said Melt, and again Karel knew he was lying. But that was for later.

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Maybe Morphobia Alligator was right.’

‘In what way?’

‘Sending you to look after me.’

‘I wish he was,’ said Melt, and Karel could hear the longing in his voice.

Wa-Ka-Mo-Do

Wa-Ka-Mo-Do crossed to the Copper Master’s house, his head spinning with questions. The sky was clear, and he gazed up at the night moon, wondering at Rachael’s words. So Zuse was made of metal. What was so strange about that?

The Copper Guard stood to attention as he passed through the doors into his residence. A nervous looking aide was waiting in the hallway.

‘Honoured Commander, your presence is requested in the Copper Room.’

‘Later,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, ‘I have work to attend to.’

‘I’m sorry, Honoured Commander, but your presence is requested.’

The aide looked terrified at having to contradict Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, and no surprise. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do himself was growing irritated by the constant directions he had been given since he arrived here. He was beginning to realize that the post of Commander offered more restraints than it did freedoms.

‘Who wishes to speak to me?’ he asked, but the aide had retreated into the depths of the house.

For a moment Wa-Ka-Mo-Do considered ignoring the summons, but curiosity got the better of him.

He padded past robots, their eyes glowing in the dim light, heading for the heart of the building.

The Copper Room was in the centre of the Copper Master’s house. It had no windows and only two doors. One led out into the main building. The other was concealed and led down through the rocks upon which Sangrel was built; a secret passage, an escape route built in less enlightened times. The Copper Room was the ideal place for holding private meetings. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do stepped into the room and felt his gyros lurch. No wonder the aide had looked so nervous.