Mech 3: The Empress (27 page)

“You there, what are you doing?” asked a voice.

“We’re visiting the officer in charge,” Aldo announced. He placed one hand on the pommel of his sword as the Nexus Captain approached.

“I don’t recognize either of you. Where did you get that Nexus uniform, woman?”

“On Neu Schweitz, in the capitol distribution center,” she replied smartly.

That caused the man to blink in confusion. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be placed under arrest. Entering this region without proper—”

“That will be quite enough,” Aldo said. The man had been reaching for his sidearm, but he found the tip of Aldo’s sword under his nose before he could draw it from its holster.

The man sputtered, but Aldo tsked at him. “You are now our guide. Please turn around, and take us to your commanding officer.”

As they walked, the man became increasingly concerned. “Are you really from Neu Schweitz?”

“We said as much.”

“Then—is this about the coming ship?”

“Naturally.”

“Why would you choose such an approach?”

“I don’t like standing in lines.”

“If you are who you say you are, you should have been taken into the graces of the lords and escorted to the lords’ entrance.”

Aldo and Joelle exchanged glances. “Perhaps we made an error. We attempted the commoners’ entrance—is that the case?”

The man seemed relieved. “Yes. That must be it. You behave like a lord and handle that sword like one—perhaps things are different on Neu Schweitz.”

“Bureaucracies are everywhere. Perhaps you would like to examine our documentation.”

They produced their IDs and the Captain scanned them. He seemed relieved at the results. Without further comment, he led them to an ornate door of blond wood spotted with dark, circular knots. He threw it open, and Aldo stepped inside.

A group of three Nexus officers stood around a computer tableau depicting the star system. The oldest sat behind the desk with a large tureen of soup resting on the screen. The red glow of their sun glimmered from beneath the dish, and a few oily drops of soup had stained the table like tiny moons nearby.

The three officers halted their discussion as Aldo swept inside. “Gentlemen,” Aldo said, “I’ve come from the Nexus to review the defensive situation here, and to offer firsthand advice on defeating this enemy.”

There was a period of confusion, but soon the Nexus people were convinced they should listen to him. They heard out his thoughts about the enemy strength and resiliency, but dismissed them.

The old man behind the desk stopped eating his soup at last and waved away Aldo’s concerns. They’d learned he was Vice Admiral Gaffe, an aging but firm commander.

“We are talking about a single large cargo vessel, Mr. Moreno.
Gladius
has been here before, we have every inch of the ship mapped out. As she enters the system, a force of thirty patrol boats will be on hand to meet her. The matter will be quickly settled. A few disabling shots will be required, and we doubt the crew has survived. But destroying the ship without dire need is out of the question, she is irreplaceable.”

Aldo and Joelle exchanged glances. Aldo drew in a deep breath, before launching into a lecture concerning the alien behaviors and capabilities. Why was it human beings did not do well when meeting forces outside their experience? He imagined it had always been so. When Europeans had arrived at the Americas, no doubt the village hetmen of the native peoples had assured their wives they would go out and clear the beach of the invaders in the morning, promising to employ their Stone Age weaponry to good effect.

“This is precisely why the Nexus government sent us out here. What is it you did not understand about my explanation of our experiences?
Gladius
sent out an assault ship, which overtook our vessel and boarded her. Clearly, the aliens have built supporting craft. Do you have the records from our own ship available?”

Frowning, the Nexus officials accessed the information with difficulty. There were many menus to traverse, and queries made. Finally, vid data was available. External shots of the invasion ship were displayed for them all to marvel at.

“An unusual design. The whole ship looks like a buddle-nut. Are those veins on the hull?”

“Probably,” Aldo said. “The aliens use organic technology as deftly as we machine our spacecraft. This ship looks like a hybrid of the two designs.”

Aldo played several vids of the crew being eviscerated. The officers still were not terribly impressed.

“Certainly, they are superior when in close. But space is very big. All we have to do is keep them at a distance.”

Aldo stared at the men in turn. “And what if you fail to do so? What if they get down here, onto the surface of Ignis Glace? What is your backup plan, sirs, if that situation arises?”

They glanced at one another uneasily. “We have no forces to speak of on the planet.”

“How then, is order maintained?”

The Vice Admiral shrugged. “The people here live in independent organizations. They maintain private armies. All ground defense is localized. There is no real central government, other than their ruling Council of Lords.”

“Ah,” said Aldo, “I’ve met Duchess Embrak.”

The Vice Admiral winced at the mention of her name. “She is the most powerful member of that organization.”

“Who runs their military arm?”

The Vice Admiral threw up his hands. “They have a warden of sorts now, she’s been designated the commander of a small army. But her forces have the purpose of putting down a mech rebellion that’s been troubling people near Sunside. There is no central military authority.”

“And who is this warden?”

“Baroness Nina Droad.”

“Ah,” said Aldo, nodding.

“You know of her?”

“Indeed he does,” said Joelle sarcastically.

Aldo ignored the comment. Instead, he tugged at his mustache and weighed his options.

Eighteen

Nina Droad left Aldo’s hotel room and returned to her own. She wondered, with every step she took, what had come over her. She was not normally a woman who slept with men she had only just met. In fact, she generally slept alone. But something about Aldo had fascinated her. Unfortunately, she suspected he had fascinated dozens like her before. Perhaps hundreds.

Wondering about herself and Aldo, she dressed in her normal riding garb, strapped her twin swords at her sides, and headed down the street to meet old Hans at a café. They’d arranged the meeting days earlier. She’d given her mounted escort of knights the rest of the ten-day off, and they’d dispersed to enjoy the sights of Lavender City.

Hans was late, but when he arrived, he appeared uncharacteristically distraught. “Milady, have you been out of contact?”

“Yes, I suppose I have,” Nina admitted. She’d turned off her com-link for ninth-day, not wanting to be disturbed. “What’s the matter?”

“The mechs, madam. They’ve been seen entering Twilight not far from here. They march while we dally here in this somber canyon.”

Nina jumped to her feet. She did not apologize to Hans, it would be unseemly to do so. “Summon my riders. We must take the field.”

“Should I call for air support?”

“No. We will handle this. It is our charge to do so. No one else is to get the credit for stopping this assault.”

Hans looked doubtful, but he did as she asked. His wrinkled hands were soon tapping at his com-link.

As she paid the check and they left the café, Nina admonished herself sternly. Aldo had been a pleasant, but costly distraction. She wondered what it was about the outworlder that had attracted her so. He had cost her both time and strategic advantage. Shaking her head, she mounted up and moved quickly to a gathering point, where her knights were instructed to join her.

The enemy were not like humans, she reminded herself for the thousandth time. They did not seek rest, sexual pleasures, nor any other distraction. They were utterly focused on their inhuman goals. Despite their small numbers, they were dangerous due to their diligence, if nothing else. The only puzzling act they’d performed was the pointless slaughter at Dolleren. Oddly, they’d hurt their own cause there, by galvanizing the council into action.

Within less than an hour, the grumbling knights had formed up and together they rode out of Lavender City. Many of them had blotchy faces and bleary eyes after many hours of carousing. Nina didn’t care. The enemy would not lag, and therefore to compete with them, she would expect no less from her men. She planned to drive them hard, and herself even harder.

#

Sixty-Two marched at the head of a vast column of mechs. They traveled at a ground-eating pace, although not so fast as aircraft might, nor even mounted knights. Loping across Twilight in a heavily wooded region, their plan was simple. They would try to cross the hundred-odd miles that separated Sunside from Nightside as quickly as possible. With luck, the humans would barely notice their presence before they’d reached their goal.

Nightside.
For Sixty-Two, the colder, darker half of the planet had come to take on nearly magical sheltering qualities. After long months spent out in the grit and blazing heat of Sunside, the cool dark of Nightside seemed fabulous in comparison. In Sunside, they were relatively exposed and there were many more industrial sites with human habitation. Mines, solar collection facilities and the like dotted the landscape. The humans had a commensurate level of surveillance equipment in the region to watch over their interests. Thus, it was only a matter of time before they were located and rooted out, no matter what gully they squatted in.

Nightside was different. There wasn’t much there other than ice and stone, and drilling in frozen ground was more difficult than digging in hot sand. In addition, every person and piece of equipment required more energy to operate in the freezing environment. Cold is by definition the absence of energy, and working in Nightside therefore required a constant source of heat. There were a few roving complexes on Nightside which sought rare elements and frozen gases, but for the most part, it was empty. Sixty-Two hoped to flee there and escape the next blow that was sure to come in retribution for the massacre at Dolleren.

The mech army crossed into Twilight and traveled the first forty miles into an increasingly lush landscape without incident. Then they came to the Queen’s Highway, a cobbled road that ran in an endless textured ribbon around the terminator line of the entire planet. This single road was continuous, and it was said some pilgrims forever marched its length, circumnavigating the globe once every year or two for their entire lives.

The highway was a busy artery of commerce and that worried Sixty-Two. He knew that he had to cross it, and that there was regular traffic on it, even in the wilderness regions. To make matters worse, they were crossing at a point fairly close to Lavender City.

They waited until the midnight hour, in local terms. There were no real ‘times’ on Ignis Glace, as every hour looked the same as the last when one looked toward the sun, which was permanently frozen on the horizon. But humans required regular intervals of wakefulness and sleep to function properly, so they had invented a timing system. As it was best for everyone to keep a common schedule, hours were arbitrarily arranged and had been worked out long ago. Traffic from the city, therefore, should be the lightest during the midst of the sleeping time.

Sixty-Two and his mechs hid on the Sunside of the highway in a large grove of suntrees. These growths were common throughout Twilight and had adapted themselves to grow very tall. At the top of their trunks they grew parabolic, umbrella-shaped structures of leaves which aimed unerringly toward the sun. The trees were thus able to photosynthesize very effectively—at least until another of their kind grew up in front of them, like woman wearing a very tall hat at a theatrical performance, and blocked their life-giving window of sunlight. Suntree groves resembled vast towering audiences, all jostling and craning their necks to see a distant performer.

Midnight passed, but Sixty-Two let another hour slip by just to be certain. The waiting bothered only him, Lizett and the few other mechs who had the mental capacity to feel anxiety. For these few, it was torturous. The rest stood still and worried about nothing.

Finally, they saw by their scanners that no metal object had passed along the road for more than ten minutes. Sixty-Two quietly broadcast the signal to cross the road. Diffidently at first, then in a swelling rush, thousands of mechs thundered out of the forest, crossed the cobbles on clanking feet, then vanished again into the cool gloom of the suntree forest where it continued on the other side.

#

Garth was asleep when Ornth finally halted the seemingly endless march along the highway. Sleeping with one’s eyes open was something of a learned behavior, but it was possible. Exhaustion had set in after days of wakefulness. Garth had gained the capacity to dream even while marching and staring straight ahead.

Ornth suddenly halted, but that alone didn’t startle Garth awake. That act, by itself, should have made it easier to sleep rather than harder. What caused him to return to consciousness was the nightmare that played before his drifting eyes.

His dreams had been peaceful and sweet, but now they were invaded by a horde of strange hulking shapes. These man-like things, most over eight feet in height, strode with amazing bounds on the metal legs as thick as struts. Their broad flat feet drummed on the cobbled road, making an incredibly loud din, like that of a thousand steel hammers striking stones in a random pattern. Occasionally, a foot that struck the cobbles sent up a small shower of bright orange sparks.

It was these sparks, Garth thought later, that penetrated his dreaming mind and brought him back to reality. He realized slowly that the nightmare scene in front of him—what appeared to be a thundering stampeded of wild machines—was in fact reality.

Garth began screeching in terror inside the joint mind he shared with Ornth.