Blood and Iron (9 page)

She lowered her face most delightfully.

‘But what of their minds?’ she asked. ‘I am sure they have not your experience, warrior! They would not have stood in the snow of the High Spires and looked north across the Empire! They would not have learned to fight in those cold and sparse lands. Robots who spend their life in the Silent City would not have been tempered by their journey from the south!’

Wa-Ka-Mo-Do laughed delightedly.

‘I am sure, Jai-Lyn, that you will be a huge success in the city of Ka! If you twist a man’s wire as surely as you build his ego, you will produce minds at which robots may wonder!’

Her eyes glowed brightly.

‘I only speak the truth, my master. The robots of the Imperial Guard are not like you! Nor have they been granted such a high command. The city and province of Sangrel!’

Wa-Ka-Mo-Do smiled back at her, but he felt uneasy. Commander of the forces of Sangrel was indeed a high honour. It was almost unknown for the Emperor to place one of the Eleven in charge, and not for the first time he wondered whether some deeper scheme was at work here. His thoughts wandered to the sudden evacuation of the train back at the station. It was unheard of for the Emperor’s railway to be so disrupted, for such an event implied a lack of planning on behalf of the Emperor: it implied an unseen event, and this was impossible in Yukawa, for did not the Emperor see all?

It had taken Wa-Ka-Mo-Do a good day to find another train to take him on his way, a task made doubly difficult by his insistence that Jai-Lyn be allowed to accompany him. In all this time he had found no one who could tell him what had happened in Ell. He suspected that this was not due to robots withholding information: genuinely, no one knew. And yet Ell was not so far from Sangrel. Barely a hundred miles . . .

‘Look, warrior!’

Jai-Lyn interrupted his thoughts. She was pointing out of the window.

‘Jai-Lyn , perhaps if . . .’ but his words trailed away.

For most of the morning the train had travelled through the green forests of An-Dara Province, and Jai-Lyn had gazed at long lines of trees, carefully farmed to feed the forges of nearby Ban City. But now they had left the trees behind. They were gliding through the grass plains of northern Sangrel Province.

A robot could see for miles here, look across plains that fed the thin cattle and sheep, bred by Yukawan robots throughout the centuries to remove as much of the muscle as possible to leave the skin and bone that were so useful to industry. Oily crops flowered in the distance, bright yellow marks against the horizon, punctuated by the glint of sunlight on the metal skins of robots tending the fields.

But something disturbed the harmony. The earth had been churned up to leave great brown scars in the ground.

‘What is it?’ asked Jai-Lyn. ‘What’s happened there?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do.

They gazed from the compartment in silence, two robots in a little place of metal and wood looking out on a world seemingly destroyed. The carefully harmony of fields and cattle and trees, cultivated over hundreds of years of Empire, had been ruined. It was like a robot had wiped his hand across a picture on a sheet of metal, erasing it. The brown churned earth seemingly stretched for miles.

‘It’s like when a farmer plants crops,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do slowly. ‘Only much, much bigger.’

‘I have never seen a farmer plant crops,’ said Jai-Lyn.

‘I grew bonsai trees, back in Ekrano,’ answered Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, engrossed by the scene before him. The excavation was so large. What possible use could it be? And then he saw something else.

‘Do you see it too?’ asked Jai-Lyn.

‘Yes,’ replied Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, staring at the yellow machine that worked its way across the grassy plain in the distance. The machine was so big, and so smooth. So much metal, it seemed to have been poured in one piece. Behind the machine stretched a brown ribbon of churned earth.

‘That’s what’s causing those marks,’ said Jai-Lyn. ‘But I have never seen a machine like it. What robot could have built that?’

‘I don’t think it’s robot-built,’ answered Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. He caught a movement high up in the sky. He and Jai-Lyn looked up at the silver shape that drew a line of condensation through the heavens.

‘I think the animals have done this.’

Karel

Karel followed Banjo Macrodocious through the hills. His metal squeaked as he strode after the other robot: it had been too long since he had had time to tend to it, but of his mental turmoil, there was no sign.

‘What’s a pilgrim?’ he asked carefully.

‘The opposite of my kind. Morphobia Alligator will explain everything to you.’

Karel didn’t press the point. If Banjo Macrodocious had been told to say nothing, then he would say nothing. Still, he was distracted by other thoughts. Susan was alive! Somewhere to the south, his wife knelt in Artemis City to twist the wire of other men. He should be heading there right now, yet Banjo Macrodocious was leading him west. He caught glimpses of the Northern Sea to his right as they traversed the rough green hills, cutting across this foreign land of grass and stone. A grey beetle watched him as he walked by, metal shell warming in the sun, then he felt a boiling of electricity at his feet and looked down to see he had kicked an ants’ nest, the little creatures swarmed around his feet, scraping nicks of metal from his soles. He leaped forward, stamping his feet hard.

Banjo Macrodocious watched him.

‘Insects everywhere,’ said Karel. ‘We must be getting near to ore.’ He paused, tasting his surroundings. ‘I can feel it in the ground. Very faint.’

‘We are heading towards Presper Boole,’ Banjo Macrodocious volunteered. ‘Its prosperity was built on metal ore and trade.’

‘I’ve never heard of it,’ replied Karel.

‘That was a long time ago, when many robots still travelled the Northern Road to the paths beneath the sea. There was much trade between Shull and the robots at the Top of the World.’

‘You believe in the robots at the Top of the World?’ asked Karel. He smiled. ‘I suppose you do. You believe in the Book of Robots after all.’

‘I don’t believe,’ said Banjo Macrodocious. ‘I
know
it to be true.’

Of course he did, thought Karel, it was woven into his mind. Banjo Macrodocious really would think that he had part of the plan for the original robots there in his head, he really would believe that he knew a little about how robots should behave.

And yet, who was he to feel anything but envy? At the moment, Karel was certain of nothing more than the fact he wanted his wife back.

‘How much further?’ he asked, as they crested the top of another low hill.

‘Nearly there,’ answered Banjo Macrodocious, and they both looked down.

The land fell into a wide sea inlet fed by a river that flowed from the south, the waters churning against the incoming tide. Across the way Karel saw more land, rocky cliffs and edges dressed in green grass. He felt caught between the elements, exposed to the choices of the world. Which way now? North beneath the vast expanse of the Moonshadow sea, down the river to the south, or follow the coast to where it took him? Then, further down the hillside, he saw the ancient remains of a town. Grey stone buildings, long broken by the elements. All the metal stripped away.

‘That was Presper Boole,’ said Banjo Macrodocious. ‘Across the way you can see Blaize.’

Karel looked across the water and saw the other town. It looked much bigger than Presper Boole, and better constructed. The buildings rose higher, they were squarer and topped by spires and towers that gleamed white even under the dull skies.

‘Blaize must have been quite impressive in its day,’ he ventured.

‘Both cities were,’ said Banjo Macrodocious. ‘I have the memory of them woven into my mind. They were built of the riches that flowed down from the Top of the World.’

Seeing the spectacular remains of the two cities there, Karel almost believed it was true. That there really were robots at the Top of the World.

‘Greetings, Karel.’

The voice came from somewhere to his side. Karel turned to gaze at the strangest robot he had ever seen. Everything about it was different. The proportions of its body were all wrong: its arms far too long and jointless, they waved and rippled like snakes. Its head was the shape of a droplet of water turned upside down, rounded at the top and then curving inwards and downwards to meet at a sharp point well below its neck. It had two large black hemispheres for eyes, set wide apart, so that Karel gained the impression it could see behind as well as in front. It had a fat body, like a light bulb, bulging at the top and pinched in where the short legs joined on. It didn’t have feet as such, instead four rods curved out from its ankles like blunt claws. They pierced the grass as it walked towards Karel, making him feel deeply uneasy. He quelled the feeling.

‘Greetings,’ replied Karel. ‘You must be Morphobia Alligator.’

Morphobia Alligator bowed in a complicated movement that made Karel’s gyros wobble. The other robot seemed to have joints in all the wrong places.

‘You are Karel, yes, yes? Formerly of Turing City, now stateless since the fall of the Northern Kingdom.’

‘Were you there?’ asked Karel.

‘No, no. But Banjo Macrodocious was. All of them were. When that place was on the brink of collapse, they were sent out to find safer lands so that the knowledge they held in their minds would be preserved. Some of them found me. Strange how old enemies work together in these times.’

‘Banjo Macrodocious is your enemy? You don’t believe in the Book of Robots?’

‘Oh, we believe what it says is the truth. Oh yes, yes! But that misses the point.’ His eyes brightened, and Karel sensed he was amused. ‘Anyway, I was told that you were nearby. I asked them to bring you to see me.’

Karel was confused. The robot’s words made little sense. Even its voice sounded wrong, like it was being modulated in a different way. And then Karel noticed the strangest thing about the robot.

‘Your body. That metal, what is it?’

‘Aluminium,’ said Morphobia Alligator.

‘The mythical element?’

‘Obviously not a myth.’

‘Where are you from?’ Karel looked aghast as realization dawned. ‘You’re from the Top of the World!’

Wa-Ka-Mo-Do

They glided on in silence, gazing from the windows. The vast patches of churned brown earth had given way to something even more disturbing.

‘Warrior, I have never left the Silent City before. Surely these plants are not natural?’

‘They are not,’ replied Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. ‘Not natural to Pen-rose, anyway.’

The plants were tall as robots, straight green stalks swelling to a cylindrical bulge at the top. They were planted in staggered rows that allowed long views along the green lines as the train rolled past. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do had never seen anything so alien.

‘Do you think that the Emperor is aware of what the animals are doing in his kingdom?’ murmured Jai-Lyn in a voice that hummed with static.

‘Be quiet, Jai-Lyn,’ warned Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, glancing around the otherwise empty compartment. ‘I am sure the Emperor is aware of all that happens in Yukawa.’

‘Then how could he permit this? Those plants should not be here! They look so wrong!’

Wa-Ka-Mo-Do gazed again at the long rows of green stalks. Some of the bulging tops had peeled back to reveal the yellow segmented fruit that lay inside.

‘The rumours are true . . .’ said Jai-Lyn, softly.

‘What rumours?’ asked Wa-Ka-Mo-Do.

Jai-Lyn lowered her eyes, well aware she had said too much.

‘Jai-Lyn. What are the rumours?’

‘Oh my master! I should not have spoken.’

‘But you have. Tell me, Jai-Lyn, what have you heard?’

Green speckled with yellow flickered by the window. Jai-Lyn stared at his feet as she spoke.

‘Oh my master, back in the Silent City, some of the women would service the Emperor’s messengers. Robots who had been the length and breadth of the Empire. They would remove their plating for polishing, they would dip their electromuscle in fine oil and reweave it, they would listen for the singing of the current in the wire, all to ensure the smooth running of the messengers. And sometimes, as they did this, the messengers would speak of what they had seen on their travels.’

‘What did they say?’

‘What we have seen, warrior. The messengers who had been to the south spoke of whole swathes of land given over to the animals that they might grow crops for themselves.’

‘Well, it is true. We can see that for ourselves!’

Jai-Lyn wore only cheap metal, and yet she moved with an elegant grace. Even looking at the floor, her hands pressed together so nervously, she looked so pretty.

‘There was worse, my master,’ continued Jai-Lyn, miserably. ‘For what is land to a robot but a luxury? Crops and cattle help one to live a more comfortable life, but they are not essential.’ She looked around again, to see if anyone was listening. ‘I . . .’

‘Go on, Jai-Lyn,’ urged Wa-Ka-Mo-Do.

‘I . . . Oh, my master, it cannot be true, but I also heard it rumoured that the animals were to be given mining rights. That the Emperor had granted them leave to take coal and ore from his mines. Oh, I am sorry.’