Dark Phase (6 page)

The elevator descended at an agonisingly slow pace, but Sarazen felt the relief of momentary safety inside the steel encased box. The tired mechanism whirred, but the only other sounds that could be heard were the whispering servos buried deep within Sarazen’s limbs as he clutched at his gaping wound to assess the scale of the injury. There was suddenly a distant tremor and a disturbing clang of metal upon metal. The sound came from above and Sarazen looked to the elevator’s ceiling just as another almighty crash rang out and the ceiling of the elevator bulged as if some great weight had struck it from above. The elevator lurched, its high tensile cables struggling to maintain their integrity and even though the elevator was still descending, Sarazen scrabbled at the large sliding doors in order to override the mechanism and escape this deadly trap. As the elevator came to a highly anticipated halt, Sarazen had already prised open the doors. As the bulk of the enforcer smashed its way through the thin skin of the ceiling, Sarazen clambered through the narrow opening before the elevator came to a complete standstill. Writhing around on the hard floor of the lobby, struggling once again to climb to his feet, Sarazen looked back to see the enforcer righting itself. It then squeezed through the broken sliding doors which refused to be parted to their usual extent. It was now a foot race, the enforcer was built for power and domination not fast pursuit, the troubleshooter was not built for athletic activity either but his slender form suited the great burst of speed which would be required to escape The Mother's violent automaton. Sarazen did not look back as he sprinted through the foyer and barged open with brutal intent the large plexiglass doors. Other silicants had been drawn to the unusual commotion and were appearing from every doorway in an effort to determine what had distracted them from their morning feed. A few moments later and the building would have been packed with commuting silicants and escape would have hampered by the slow moving throng. Instead, Sarazen burst out into the deserted street and did not stop to consider which direction to take. He ran across the transit line, narrowly missing a speeding carriage and into an area of densely packed small buildings, which were used as storage facilities for constructors who were working in the vicinity. Feeling his body begin to wane as his temperatures soared to volatile levels, Sarazen knew he must stop to avoid overload, but did not dare allow his more cumbersome pursuer to gain ground. He took shelter behind a dark and dingy structure and paused for brief consolidation as he only then noticed the gentle fall of moisture from the brooding skies above. Peering out from behind the corner, he scanned the area for signs of the enforcer. He dare not linger, the enforcer would not stop until his prey had been vanquished.

Sarazen, still clutching his wound which oozed with precious Vitalin, moved off and continued to venture deeper into the seldom used, unexplored sector of his city. The structures became unfamiliar and their jutting splines and dark edifice endured the sense of overwhelming solitude. Despite the great expanse of city that Sarazen dwelt in, he had only cause to enter those parts which were populated with silicants who had malfunctioned and required attention. Sarazen had only just realised how much of his home had never been explored and how alien his surroundings had now become. Sarazen kept his pace high, but within operational limits, and moved deeper into the industrial heart of the city, cursing as the corrosive precipitation coated his weave and his heavy footfalls splashed up puddles and coated his gleaming ankles in a murky, muddy coating. Sarazen stopped again, scanning his environment, his auditory sensors working overtime to detect the sounds of an oncoming enforcer. None were detected; the only sounds that he could identify were from the squawking organics which had made their home in the gutters of the tatty buildings and the low level cacophonous rumble caused by the distant and numerous transit carriages as they began their morning commute.

The troubleshooter sought temporary shelter from the corrosive rain inside a dark and disused factory. He crouched down in the corner and took stock of his situation. His first priority was the repair of his damaged right breast which had been speared by the sharp spike of metal from his living room table. The irony was not lost on Sarazen as he realised that he was highly fortunate. His repair skills could not have been sought elsewhere and even if they had, they would surely have not been superior to his own. Tenderly pulling across the large flap of weave, exposing the breached channels of Vitalin, his carpal scanners and finger tools began to detect and seal any abrasions or lacerations. He was fortunate; the wound was not deep and had not damaged his power cell complex which was housed deep within his upper chest. The loss of Vitalin was a minor concern but nothing that a vessel of phosphorylin could not allay. As the tiny, highly focused laser cutting and sealing tools worked at mending the physical structure of the wounded silicant, the next stage was to conjure a plan of action. Sarazen could not allow himself to be deterred in his quest for continued existence by the enormity of his task. He still retained the computational logic which dictated that there was strength in numbers and that he must again seek out Cole the farmer with great immediacy. Together, their combined intellect would think of a plan to defy the great probability that the mother would inevitably fulfil her task and in doing so bring a crushing end to her rogue troubleshooter. Not only that, but in Cole, Sarazen knew there was companionship and empathy. The loneliness would cease. He would have a true friend.

CHAPTER 8

A number of questions had gone unanswered as Sarazen cautiously flitted from building to building, taking the scenic route to the nearest transit station whilst constantly checking at every juncture for the rampant enforcer. Primarily, what had gone wrong with his plan to avoid connecting to the network in the previous dark phase? Certainly he felt confident in the function of the bypass circuit he had constructed. There must have been another causal factor. It had suddenly occurred to him that his emotional ranting to his companion Keera could have, in hindsight been an issue. Perhaps triggered by inconsistencies in the Cole report and correlated with unusual behaviour experienced in his spouse, The Mother had linked the two events together and determined that it was not worth the risk to perpetuate Sarazen’s functionality. Moreover, if Sarazen was to be terminated, then surely Cole was at risk also if he had been implicated in the affair. Sarazen knew that he had to warn Cole that he was in imminent danger, and hoped that it was not too late for the genial farmer.

In addition to the paranoia that arose from being pursued by a lethal combatant, Sarazen could not be totally assured how the other silicants would react to his presence. He could only assume that they would be totally indifferent to him and carry on about their cyclical business. He was of course aware that The Mother may have possessed the ability to influence a great many silicants in order to either report the location or even attack the rogue in their collective. This was a chance Sarazen would have to take if he were to make haste in reaching Cole. There was no other way of reaching the high ground other than taking the transit line. To walk could take a whole cycle and if the dark phase came, he would be rendered inoperative at the mercy of the elements and the organics who inhabited the area.

Sarazen had found his way back to familiar surroundings and was now within a short distance of a transit station where several stationary carriages awaited departure. The mass of commuting silicants had subsided and now only a small number of individuals could be seen, no doubt fulfilling their duties across the city. There was little time for hesitancy, Sarazen brazenly strode out into the street which was still damp from the morning showers and made a beeline for the relevant carriage. He knew that the last thing he wanted to do was draw undue attention to himself, so he walked confidently and at a gentle pace past a group of constructors who were surveying, and up to the carriage door which swished open as he neared. Relieved that no untoward events had taken place, he climbed the steps of the carriage and greeted the operator.

“
Good Morning. 145.33.371.14.” Sarazen spoke, his voice tones a little wavering as he announced his destination. The operator went to speak but was then suddenly, curiously hesitant. He looked Sarazen up and down momentarily. The troubleshooter knew instantly that his presence had been noted by the operator and his sensory system was suddenly pushed into a frenzy of activity. There was no time to lose, Sarazen had to disable the operator before he could announce the location of the fugitive and although he had no wish to bring harm to the dutiful carriage driver, his silence was now imperative.

A wave of impulsiveness washed over Sarazen and he lashed out at the operator who was sat, helplessly attached to the carriages terminal via a thin network cable. The operator barely had time to respond before the violent lunge took its effect and smashed the operator's head into the control panel. The carriage lurched into forward movement throwing Sarazen off balance and off his feet as he slid down the central gangway. The acceleration of the carriage was such that he found it difficult to regain his feet and he had to use his arms to grasp each seat’s safety handle in turn in order to climb back to the front and continue his attack. The speed of the carriage began to reach its upper limit and the acceleration ceased, the wind blowing wildly through the doorway which was still wide open. The operator was damaged and stunned, it looked around as if dazed, its vision impaired. Sarazen knew that he could not allow the operator to regain its control of the carriage and striding up to the cabin, Sarazen took the stricken silicant under the arms and hauled its bulk over the cabin confines and hurled it towards the exit staircase. The operator uttered a strange and disturbing noise as its body flopped down the graduated decline and was swallowed up by the rushing wind, swept away out of the carriage to tumble helplessly at great speed along the rocky siding.

Sarazen leapt over into the operator's cabin and looked down at the control panel. How often had he watched the operators in their duties and marvelled in the simplicity of their task. It was now time to learn quickly how the carriage was controlled as the landscape rushed by at terrific speeds. By this time, the carriage neared the city limits, the rails beneath the runaway carriage squealed in complaint as they were being tested like never before. At this rate, the carriage would fly from its tracks and Sarazen’s quest would be quickly over. With some fortune, the gradual incline on nearing the higher ground began to take some effect on the carriage’s momentum and still baffled by the control system, Sarazen sat back and took a moment to calm himself. Perhaps he need not tamper with the controls. At this rate, the carriage might even come to a halt in good time and only short distance away from his destination. Looking down at the doorway and the ochre terrain as it passed by in a blur, he took a moment to ponder the fate of the operator. If he had indeed sealed its fate, then was this sentience that he had earned, achieved through moral means and if not, was he not as culpable as The Mother herself, who had enslaved him and others like him in eternal bondage? He pitied the operator who certainly did not deserve his violent end and felt overwhelming remorse. It was another disturbing emotion which rendered him momentarily unable to compute with any clarity. Sarazen struggled to interpret these new sensations, but as he sat back and saw the farmer's dwellings fade into view through the moist haze of mist, he knew he had experienced fear but also exhilaration and elation at the victory. As these emotions manifested themselves, Sarazen could not have been in a more fitting place as the transit carriage trundled along to the base of the hill where Cole dwelt. He climbed from the cabin and stood at the doorway, the ground still moving at great pace as it rushed by. Bracing himself for a sudden and shocking impact, Sarazen hurled himself from the carriage as a tightly grouped pack of small seters neared. Hoping that their supportive appendages would slow the velocity of his body before it hit the hard earth, his theory was in part correct as his bulk smashed through the organics’ sinuous grasp and landed with a significantly lessened impact on the other side, the carriage continued uphill to its destructive destination. Looking back as it disappeared behind a rocky outcrop, Sarazen hoped that the consequences of his reckless actions would not be severe for other unwitting silicants.

Brushing himself down of the many hundred small, sticky organic parts that clung to his outer casing, Sarazen tended the seters who had taken a heavy blow and touched their delicate, finely detailed accoutrements. Again, hoping that his impulsive actions had not caused irreparable damage, he swiftly moved on upwards, along the winding path to Cole's living space. The path was once again adorned by the odd organic, scurrilous and aloof as the gleaming figure of the Silicant appeared. Cole's dwelling appeared over the rise and Sarazen had hoped to see his friend casually leaning over the porch as he did when he first met him almost exactly one cycle earlier. Unfortunately, the porch was untended and a certain amount of disorder appeared to be present as storage vessels outside the building had been unsettled pouring their contents across the ground. A flock of organics huddled around the spillage, ingesting as much as their forms would allow. The intrusion of Sarazen caused one to panic and it took flight in haste, inducing a mass exodus in a throng of activity. The sudden sight of the unexpected activity instantly made the silicant wary and instinctively he ducked down as the organics flew overhead. Perhaps he was too late and Cole had already been paid a visit by The Mother’s assassins? The very thought drove Sarazen into a quickened pace and he fairly leapt the small steps into Cole’s home where he feared the very worst.