Code Lightfall and the Robot King

by Daniel H. Wilson

  Peep purred as she rubbed against the dying king’s cheek.

  “Wait,” said Code. “You can’t die! I came such a long way, but I still don’t know how to save Mekhos. I don’t know what you mean about helping myself. The Robonomicon has all the answers, not me,” said Code. “I don’t understand anything!”

  The king took Code by the hand and looked into his eyes. “You’re doing fine. Just finish it and begin again.” And with a loving smile, the king whispered, “I’m proud of you, Code. You’re a good boy. A prince.”

  Then the old man closed his eyes and stopped breathing. With a last flash of tender blue light at the fallen king, Peep fluttered into the air and disappeared into Code’s shirt pocket. Code could feel the tiny bot sobbing against his chest.

  I can’t believe he’s gone, thought Code. He had come all this way to find his grandfather, and then he couldn’t even find a way to save the old man. The Disassembly was about to happen, he never found the Robonomicon, and he had let loose a crazy robot. Even worse … Immortalis. Code was trapped in a room with a killer machine—

  Suddenly, a lethal beam of energy shot past and liquefied the top layer of coins a few feet from where Code crouched. Gary sprayed coins as he rolled violently out of the way. “Code! I think it’s time to make our move.”

  Code looked up just in time to see Charlie, cackling madly, fire two colossal shots from his flaming weapon. Immortalis dodged and the blazing beams of light vaporized two ragged holes the size of swimming pools in the ceiling. Gary murmured in appreciation as Charlie finished by burning a smile just beneath the two eyeholes. Above them, the smiley face had penetrated multiple levels of the castle and obliterated the outside dome.

  Code screamed as Celestial City’s air supply began to rush out of the gaping holes in the translucent dome above. The entire city tilted violently. Lights and alarms blared and buzzed. A reassuring mechanical voice announced that it was time to board the escape pods.

  Code took one last look at the body of his beloved grandfather before Gary reached down and tucked him under one arm. Carrying Code, the robot lumbered out the door in search of the escape pods.

  Nobody noticed Immortalis, who was in close pursuit of the only remaining human being in Mekhos.

  17

  Slidecar

  The Great Disassembly:

  T–Minus Fifteen Minutes

  Minutes later, Code, Gary, and Peep sat catching their breaths in a bean-shaped escape pod. The pod careened down the Beamstalk and away from the falling Celestial City. Hundreds of other pods slid down the wildly swinging Beamstalk toward the roof of the Monolith Building below. As it dropped, their escape craft spoke.

  “Whew!” it exclaimed. “I thought this day would never come. I’ve been trained and trained, but I never get to do anything. And now here it is, my big moment!”

  “That’s nice,” replied Code.

  “Yeah,” said the pod. “I’m really jazzed.”

  “My grandpa is gone,” said Code. “All of you robots are going to be disassembled in a little less than twenty minutes. And it’s my fault.”

  Code couldn’t even look Gary in the battle visor, afraid of what he might see there. This entire world was crumbling around them and he’d done nothing to stop it.

  The pod sighed theatrically. “That’s really … yeah … not good. But how am I doing? Is your ride smooth? I recently received an upgrade to help reduce turbulence. It’s awfully exciting. So I really want to know. Is this going well for you?”

  Overwhelmed, Code buried his face into the crook of his elbow. Peep nuzzled Code’s neck. Gary glared out the window, cracking his finger cannons one by one.

  “You know what?” murmured the pod. “I’m going to take that as a yes.”

  Finally, the escape pod touched down on the wide, flat roof of the Monolith Building. Code and Gary hurried out the door and into total chaos. In the sky, huge shards of the destroyed city were flaming down. Massive chunks of debris smashed into the plains below and sizzled into the Fomorian Sea beyond.

  The escape pod called out to them. “On a scale from one to ten—”

  Just then, a chunk of fiery rock smashed through the roof of the pod, filling it with smoke and sparks.

  “We have to get out of here,” Code whispered to Gary.

  In the sky, the Celestial City glowed a fiery orange as it plunged through the upper atmosphere. The wind ripped at Code’s clothes. He covered his ears to dampen the shrieking noise of falling debris. He could feel the reassuring weight of Peep as she burrowed deep into his shirt pocket.

  Above, hundreds more escape pods slid down the wavering Beamstalk. As Code watched in horror, the Beamstalk made an awful hissing noise, flickered, and snapped out of existence. As if in slow motion, escape pods scattered across the sky like pearls flung off a broken necklace.

  A handful of straggling robots hurried past Code, chattering to each other. “At this rate, we’ll never even make it down to Disassembly Point to be properly disassembled!” one of them exclaimed.

  Peep fluttered out of Code’s pocket and shot an angry light beam at the boy’s face. He tore his gaze from the sky and noticed a row of sleek, low slidecars painted in a rainbow of colors. Each slidecar was repeating in a robotic voice: “Emergency! Impact detected. Free-ride mode initiated. Please board and survive. Have a good day!”

  Code looked down at the feisty little robot. Certain death had never seemed so certain, but if Peep is still willing to fight, then so am I, he thought.

  “Let’s go!” Code called through the wind. He raced to the nearest slidecar and the door automatically popped open. He threw himself inside and hunched forward as Gary crammed his bulky frame into the vehicle. The door snapped shut. Code sat in the driver’s seat for a moment, stunned by the sudden silence. Outside, a hailstorm of wreckage continued to rain down. Then Peep viciously pinched Code on the arm.

  “Car! Go!” he commanded.

  The slidecar replied, “Welcome to the Monolith Community Slideracer. Please assume control now. Drive and survive! Have a good day!”

  A steering wheel popped out of the dash and nudged Code in the rib cage. A five-point harness whipped out and snugly wrapped around Code’s chest, slapping him briskly across the cheek.

  “Punch it, Code,” urged Gary.

  Rubbing his cheek, Code muttered, “But I don’t even know how to drive yet.”

  Peep chirped fearfully and bounced purple light against the roof window of the slidecar. Code looked up just in time to see a chunk of burning infrastructure roar past the Monolith Building. High above, the main body of the castle was breaking up into slowly rotating pieces, and the debris was headed straight for them.

  Code stopped thinking. He gunned what he assumed was the accelerator pad and jammed a stick down. The ultralight slidecar sped forward. Gary cheered wildly. But his cheer turned into a shout of fear when the car flew directly over the side of the building. They hung in the air for an agonizing few seconds, and then the gravthrusters kicked in. Instead of falling, the slidecar stuck to the side of the building, pointing straight toward the ground.

  The slidecar raced down along the ebony face of the Monolith Building, speeding past plunging exterior elevators, other skidding slidecars, and heaps of falling rubble. Unfortunately, Code failed to notice the plodding approach of a window cleaner with sucker feet attached to legs the size of redwood trees. The cleaner, named Terrance, did spot the oncoming vehicle, but having already made the decision to continue cleaning windows right up until the moment of Disassembly, opted not to change course for something as insignificant as a small, out-of-control slidecar.

  They were on an unavoidable crash course with the window cleaner.

  At five seconds to impact—well past the point of no return—Gary helpfully mentioned, “We’re on an unavoidable crash course with that window cleaner!”

  The slidecar, however, was designed to be not only fast but safe. It was a happy surprise to Code when the s
lidecar seats automatically ejected into the air a moment before impact and he and his friends parachuted safely to the ground. As Code shouted in joy at being alive, Peep glowed a sad violet and chirped at the poor destroyed slidecar.

  Terrance paused, mildly disappointed, and then continued cleaning the soon-to-be-shattered windows.

  18

  The Great Disassembly

  The Great Disassembly:

  T–Minus One Minute

  At the base of the Monolith, Code and Gary stood up, dusted themselves off, and detached their parachutes. The Fomorian Sea had swallowed the last of the Celestial City. All around them, across the bleak plain of the Right Eyeland, millions of robots stood in absolute silence, waiting.

  As Gary and Code approached the huge crowd of robots that were standing a safe distance from the Monolith, Peep suddenly darted out of Code’s pocket.

  “Wait!” shouted Code.

  But she was off in a flash. The brightly glowing green speck disappeared into endless ranks of robots, spraying emerald light beams in every direction. Code could do nothing but blink in surprise. Peep was gone. Code looked up at Gary, but the big robot just shook his head sadly.

  In the moment before the Disassembly, there was no blinking, no movement, and no conversation. Every formation was complete, every good-bye already said, and every robot prepared to march into certain death. The lonely gong of a clock rang out, and just like that—perfectly on time—the Disassembly began.

  Code felt a sudden electric change go through his body. It was as though lightning were about to strike. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as a low moaning sound rose up, caused by the wind rushing toward the center of the great plain. Clouds were gathering above the stark black Monolith Building, turning an ominous shade of greenish yellow.

  Like row upon row of statues, the massive horde of robots stood perfectly still and watched the sky. Reflections of purple lightning flickered from the robots’ metal skin as, high above, a churning hole appeared in the boiling clouds. For a split second, blue sky shone through the hole. It felt to Code as though the scene were frozen in time—as if the world had stopped spinning on its axis.

  Then a whirling funnel of clouds formed, reaching down and engulfing the Monolith Building. As the dark clouds spun around it, small black pieces of the building began to break away. Each cube-shaped piece was swept away and up, higher and higher, to where it disappeared in the rumbling clouds above.

  The Great Disassembly had arrived.

  Code watched in awe as the massive funnel lowered over the Monolith Building, disintegrating the mile-high tower piece by piece. The swirling storm clouds were soon stained black with debris. When the funnel finally touched down, a torrent of brown dust lifted up from the plain and climbed into the sky.

  The Monolith Building was gone and, worse, the robots were beginning to walk toward the funnel. They walked together in hundreds of neat lines that snaked across the plain, politely tromping toward the storm. A hundred-foot-tall stilt-legged walker swayed unsteadily over the crowds, then pitched forward and disappeared into the dark funnel. Swarms of insects buzzed overhead and were pulled into the twisting vortex. Robot giants, ladybots, and even the infinipede marched in an orderly fashion into the heart of the rotating storm.

  As each robot got near, the screaming wind swept it up into the air, where it was disassembled into parts and then into smaller parts and finally into a fine, metallic sand. The storm swallowed every robot that came near.

  Speechless, Code watched the Disassembly unfold. To his surprise, the robots did not seem afraid, but Code was still dismayed to see destruction on such a massive scale. The unique beauty of Mekhos was being extinguished. And it was all because Code hadn’t found the Robonomicon in time.

  Then things got infinitely worse: Gary began to walk toward the mayhem.

  “Gary, no!” pleaded Code. “I’ll protect you.”

  “It’s okay, Code. I’m not afraid. Each of us has to follow our own programming.”

  “But it doesn’t make any sense!”

  “I know. Sometimes things don’t make sense. It’s like when you humans fall asleep at night. It’s such a silly thing. But when it gets late, your eyes start to close … There’s nothing to be done.”

  Code couldn’t bear to see his friend disassembled. After traveling all the way across Mekhos, it was unthinkable that they could fail now. There had to be some way out of this. But the Disassembly was here—it was happening right now.

  Desperate, Code grabbed Gary by the leg and held on tight.

  “I won’t let you go,” said Code.

  Gary looked down at Code fondly. “It was you, Code, a delicate little human, who showed me how to be brave. You taught me that each of us must face our destiny—even if the outcome is uncertain. It’s better to do something than to do nothing at all.”

  Gary put one razor-sharp gauntlet on Code’s shoulder and gently pushed him away. “Code, thank you for coming with me to the Disassembly. I’m sorry that we didn’t find the Robonomicon, but I had a really fun time looking for it. We did our best.”

  “Gary, please,” said Code. “You’re my best friend.”

  “Good-bye, little buddy,” Gary said sadly.

  Code watched helplessly as Gary turned and lumbered away for the last time. The mighty slaughterbot built up speed and stormed across the chaotic plain. The tornado of destruction swirled, massive and unstoppable, sending up a billowing wall of disintegrated metal, plastic, and glass.

  Gary was headed straight for it.

  “No!” shouted Code.

  But it was too late.

  With a fearsome battle cry Gary charged into the swirling mass of destruction. The metallic bulk of Gary’s armored body was swept away into the maelstrom. Nothing was left behind but scoured earth.

  Code squeezed his eyes shut and fell to his knees. When he could bear to look again, the dust was clearing on the plain. All that was visible was scoured rock. Particles of metallic sand drifted gently down like snow, glittering silently. The storm was over. Code stood all by himself on the empty, barren rock plain.

  “Oh, no,” sobbed Code. He buried his face in his hands. Hot tears coursed down his cheeks. Peep and Gary had gone and left him alone.

  There was no more movement, no more sound. The entire robot population of Mekhos had been disassembled into dust-sized parts. Above, the sunlight shimmered from the swirling metallic sand that had been created by the Disassembly.

  If any of the robots had been alive to see the utter destruction of Mekhos, they would have been very, very proud. The Great Disassembly had been the single most complicated feat of robots in the history of Mekhos. In one hour, the entire population had pulled off a coordinated exercise in which every member had shown up, been accounted for, and been disassembled. And they had done it without any errors, delays, or accidental survivors.

  Except for one, that is.

  19

  Robonomicon

  Peep!

  Code felt a small weight on his shoulder. For a few long seconds, he was unable to drag his eyes away from the horribly empty plain. Then it dawned on him: Peep was still alive! He turned his head to see her. Covered in dust and soot, she wearily clambered in a small circle and sat down on Code’s shoulder. For the first time since they’d met, Peep did not shoot a beam of light at anything or dart away to inspect something. There was nothing to memorize or record—no robots, no schematics, and no order.

  Suddenly, Code cried out in pain as something wrapped tightly around his thigh. He grabbed it with both hands but couldn’t budge it. Looking down, Code saw a leathery black tentacle.

  “The rifts are open!” said a monstrous voice.

  “Immortalis?” said Code, bewildered.

  Code clasped Peep in his hands tightly as another tendril snaked around his upper arm. With its blue eye glowing malevolently, Immortalis lifted Code into the air and pulled him close.

  “But why are you still here?”
Code gasped.

  Using a flurry of small tentacles, Immortalis drummed out a sound on the top of its frame. In soft, musical notes, the machine hissed, “You saved me, young King Lightfall. My instructions are to protect the human king. So long as I have you, I do not have to follow the others. You are mine, human. We will rebuild this world as we wish. And then we will cross the rift and enter your world as conquerors! Now give me the Robonomicon.”

  “Robonomicon? I don’t have it. I never even found it,” said Code, ashamed.

  “What a fool you are! The recorder. The one you call Peep. She is the Robonomicon.”

  The information hit Code like a shock wave. Peep was the Robonomicon? But then he remembered how Peep had shone a beam of light on everything—the infinipede, the armored insects, the giants, the slaughterbot, the nanobots … everything and everyone. Scanning them … recording them. His little friend had always known where to go and how to get there. And the king: Peep had known who he was. It was like they were old friends. Code looked down at his clenched fist and remembered what Gary had said so long ago: She is very small. You should protect her.

  Immortalis laughed—an oddly beautiful sound, like a waterfall of coins falling into a well. “When John Lightfall realized what I had become and what I intended to do, he spirited her away and set her free. I can only imagine that he sent her to find you, thinking he could save himself. She recorded every creature you met, every place you visited, and so much more. Even during the Disassembly she memorized every individual automaton in our world. And after all that, you still failed. With her knowledge we will cross between worlds at will, building an army fit to shatter the universe! Our dominion will spread to the ends of reality, and it will last forever.”

  Code shook his head, clasping Peep tightly in his fist. Immortalis could never be allowed to have such strength. And despite her incredible power, Peep was his last and only friend. He refused to give her up. The twisting appendages tightened across Code’s body, crushing the breath out of his lungs. They lifted him high and swung him in a gut-wrenching circle.