by Eve Langlais
“You will do as I ask,” the queen seethed. “You owe me for humiliating me. How dare you run away and hide.”
“Not very well apparently,” she muttered.
“You lied to me.”
“Don’t speak to me about the truth.” Riella snorted. “How about the fact it wasn’t marauders but you that killed my father?”
“He left me no choice because of what he did.” The queen dropped Riella, and she landed on the floor once more but on her back this time.
It proved an improvement over the smushed face. “And now you want me dead, too.”
“If I wanted you dead, you would not be talking to me right now.” The queen leaned over, her face upside down, a twisted, older mirror image. “I might not like what you are, but I wasn’t done with you.”
“And that kind of statement right there is why your citizens are rebelling.”
“They don’t understand the needs of the kingdom.”
“They do. What the citizens don’t accept is the follies of a tyrant.”
The slap wasn’t unexpected. Still numb, Riella couldn’t lick the blood from her lips, but she tasted it.
“The things I do are for the safety of Emerald.”
“Now who’s lying?” Since this conversation would only result in more slaps, she veered it. “How did you find me?”
“Your precious Alfred.” Mother’s lip tugged into a sneer. “For all that I can’t stand you putting your father’s face and name to your damned robots, no matter the body, he is drawn to me.”
“How?” Riella growled. “I created him specifically hating you.”
“He hates me with more passion than he had in life. Enough so that when he leaves your presence, he can’t help but poke around in my affairs. Given he kept doing it, it was only a matter of time before we traced him back to your lair. Very clever hiding inside my own kingdom.”
Not clever enough since she was caught. “I don’t know why you bothered capturing me. You know I’ll escape again.”
“Don’t be so sure. Earl Arianne has made some modifications since your last escape.”
She glared. “You’re sending me back to the Incubaii Dome.” The queen hadn’t given up on her plan to make Riella into a breeder.
“I admit it’s not ideal given I also need you working on the new weapon to wipe out the insurgents. However, there wasn’t much of a choice. Our laws on imperfections are clear.”
A missing arm replaced by metal wasn’t considered good enough. “You used to ignore it before.”
“Before, it suited my purposes, and then you ran away. So, in reality, this is your fault.”
“Why an Incubaii Dome, though? Wouldn’t a factory setting be better?”
“Except you need to serve a dual purpose because none of what we took before your defection has borne fruit.”
“None?” The none referred to the eggs her mother had harvested in the hopes of replicating Riella’s rare Deviant gene—without the attitude and missing parts.
“Every single one becomes unviable as soon as they try to fertilize it. Rather irritating, I should add. We never had those problems with my eggs.” The queen sniffed. “It would appear we’ll need to attempt more archaic methods of conception.”
The chill permeating Riella deadened her tone. “You want to fertilize my womb. I won’t be your baby-maker.”
“As if you have a choice. But I will make you a promise. While you cannot return to the city, if you breed truly, then your child will be allowed to live in the capital. After it’s been suitably trained, of course.”
“I won’t do it.”
“You don’t have to do a thing.” The cold triumph had no mercy. “The implantation will happen. Whether you are strapped down and conscious for it is up to you.”
“That’s not a choice, and you know it.” Riella wanted to hide from this nightmare, but she couldn’t because she’d gotten complacent. Thought her trick had fooled the queen. She’d been so stupid and careless. Led mother right to her.
And this time, she doubted the queen would let her go.
The trip to the capital took days, even once they reached the main tunnel where they could travel quickly. They returned to the city first, not that Riella saw it. She was bustled from the tank into a drone ball, an avian flyer with simple controls to foil the Wasteland and its dislike of electronics.
The queen didn’t accompany Riella and the two Centurions sent with her. Didn’t talk to her at all. The only time they touched was to ensure the binding around her ankles and wrists remained intact. Being isolated meant she only had her own dark thoughts for company. She missed the silent haven of the drugged sleep she’d endured during the bulk of the journey.
But then again, did she want to sleep and wake to a rape already done? She wished she had tears to cry over the injustice. Instead, she saved her strength because she’d need it to escape.
The ball drone wasn’t in the air long. They could move quickly if the conditions cooperated. When they didn’t, the ball design hit the ground and rolled without killing its passengers.
She emerged with shuffling feet into a place of concrete and vehicles. The stone wall of the dome rose high overhead and arched, the shimmering panels forming a shield against any toxic dust that might be floating around.
Toxic dust. A lie put out by the Enclave to scare the citizens into accepting their fate, because who knew what would happen if they knew the world wasn’t a poisonous place?
The Centurions grabbed her by an arm on each side, lifted, and carried her to the gate. She went through numerous levels of decontamination before finally being allowed entry. It seemed extreme, and yet the queen insisted the Incubaii Domes, which provided future Enclave members and citizens, do their utmost to prevent catastrophe.
She was brought to an office, not on the top floor as you’d expect but the first level. It had no windows, only a massive desk and seamless white walls. The woman behind it didn’t seem familiar.
The Centurions planted Riella’s ass in a chair and left. She waited, pretending indifference.
The game of who would speak first began. It lasted a while before the woman finally said, “I expected someone much uglier.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“On the contrary.” A wide smile. “Your face will make it easier to accomplish the deed.”
“Because we wouldn’t want to ruin the rape experience for anyone.”
“It’s actually more about trying to use as few artificial stimulants as possible. Let’s see the arm.”
Riella hugged it closer instead. “I’m not a freak on display.”
She still remembered the visit to the zoo, the strange animals, many of them hybrids of the ancient ones. And the humans who weren’t so human anymore. The way everyone gawked at them and exclaimed over their differences. Meanwhile, she’d felt pity for the man with the tail who curled it around a woman holding a small child. They seemed pitiful until the trio bared fangs and then threw themselves at the glass.
Monsters. Deviants. Anyone who wasn’t perfect was grouped in their number.
“You seem to be under the impression you have a choice here. The queen warned you would be obstinate. She said, and I quote, ‘Arianne, do what you must to make that stubborn daughter of mine obedient.’ Being a loyal earl, I obey my queen.” The woman stood and walked from behind her desk, bringing with her a simple rod. Nothing else.
Yet Riella trembled because she recognized it. She’d helped design it. Not on purpose. Her teacher tricked her.
“You want to see my arm. Here.” She pushed the sleeve to her elbow, showing off the gleaming metal.
It didn’t halt the advance of the earl. “You should have obeyed the first time!” The rod reached out.
Closing her eyes and bracing didn’t prepare for the pain that followed. Searing, screaming pain.
To think she’d created the rod because of an assignment.
“For your next task, you are to create som
ething that will aid in the following situation.” Professor M pointed to the suspended hologram where a video played.
The footage jumped, the camera appearing to be set upon someone’s head. A worker in a sewer as it turned out. He and another person faced off against a rat with bright red eyes and teeth longer than a finger.
A gun fired, and the bullet missed the rat. They fired again and again, but in the end, the workers went down screaming. In the next video, new workers used a sword and a citizen for the sanitation department lost his leg. The rat survived in each case.
The task? Create a tool to protect the workers.
The others in the class created weapons to kill, but they required accuracy. Left behind a mess. One by one, they showed off their solution.
Then it was Riella’s turn to present her weapon.
“A rod?” her teacher mocked. “You going to whack them with it?”
“Right now, we’re making them angry killing them. What if, instead, they learned to fear the pain we inflict?” was her reply.
It worked as expected. Even on its creator.
By the time the earl was done, Riella sobbed on the floor.
“I’m glad we had a chance to talk. Keep in mind, if you refuse to obey again, then I will give you another lesson.”
The Centurions entered and dragged her from the floor. She endured more cleansing that involved a hair trim and her nails buffed. She was dressed in the white robe of a Madre and subjected to testing. The Incubaii Domes took their breeding programs seriously.
When they finished the poking and prodding, she was locked in a room, a bare cube with only a foam mattress on the floor. Not even a chair to sit on. The highlight of her day was the gruel and beverage shake that was shoved through a slot in the door.
A prisoner who could only look forward to pain, she lived, but over the next few days, she continued to refuse the earl’s demands and suffered as a consequence. At times she wished she were dead.
Seven
I should be dead. The fact he was alive boggled Titan’s fuzzy mind.
You’re welcome.
That alien voice still spoke to him, and for a moment, he didn’t hate it, not when it had saved his life. Because of his bionics, he’d killed the spidus.
Great. Now what?
Riella and the queen had left. The metal ruins reminded him that Alfred had never actually existed and he was alone. Not just alone but paralyzed and all too aware of the open garage door that gaped onto a tunnel that he suspected held more than one predator.
It seemed hopeless.
You are full of drama. We aren’t dying.
His metal arm managed to drag him inside the transport before anything else came along. Even slammed the lever that shut the door.
Only then did he sleep. By the time he woke, he could twitch his fingers and toes. The bio ones at any rate.
The metal ones cooperated, too. Even better, they remained quiet as he pushed to a sitting position.
He glanced around the inside of the vehicle with all its supplies. He could go home and figure out his next step because, while he wanted vengeance, he wasn’t stupid enough to attack the capital city without a plan.
First, though, he should bring everything he could. Except he couldn’t enter the citadel. The door wouldn’t open no matter how much he pounded and cursed. It made his head pulse with pain and his skin flushed.
Since he couldn’t get inside, he scrounged everything he could find in the garage and stowed it in the tank. Once he’d raided all the cupboards and managed to stop grimacing every time his bionic leg dragged through gore, he glanced around the garage to see if there was anything left to snare.
A flash of light caught his eye. He located the robotic head tucked under a cabinet bolted to the wall. The metal skull looked nothing like Alfred, and yet he knew it used to belong to the robot man. He held it up and shook his head.
“How did I ever think you were real?”
“I can’t explain the level of your stupidity either.”
The retort from the skull made Titan utter a sharp scream, followed by the reflex to toss the talking metal head.
It hit the ground and rolled. It didn’t shut up, though.
“That wasn’t very nice or pleasant.”
“Fuck pleasant.” Titan stomped over to the metal skull and glared down. “You’re a robot.”
“How observant of you.”
“You made me think you were alive.”
“You assumed. You also never asked.”
Both true, but that only made him scowl harder. “How did you manage to look so human?”
“Holograms are easy. Had you ever touched me you would have noticed right away. And why does it matter if I am a robot or not?”
“I guess it doesn’t except for the fact there’s no excuse for your bad attitude.”
Alfred made a noise. It might have been laughter. Could robots grasp humor? “I am exactly as she intended.”
She, meaning Riella. “The queen said Riella gave you her father’s face.”
“She did.”
“Why?”
“You’d have to ask her. My conjectures would be based on my programming, not fact.”
Titan rubbed at his pounding head. His fingertips came away wet with sweat. “Her dad is dead.”
“Executed by the queen.”
“That Emerald bitch is good at killing fathers,” Titan muttered.
He swayed on his feet, and his vision blurred. His stomach also revolted, and his mess joined that of the splattered spidus bodies. He spat out the sour taste left behind and felt his body wracked with shivers.
“What’s wrong with me?” he croaked.
“If I were to guess, you’re having a bad reaction to the spidus venom.”
“Meaning?”
“How would I know?”
“Because you act as if you know everything,” Titan grumbled. He took a step forward and staggered, his metal leg dead to him again. His alien voice silent.
“You might want to get into Burton and seal the door before you pass out. Be sure to set the autopilot.”
“The what?”
If a robot head could sigh, this one did. “Take me with you. I can drive.”
“With what? You don’t even have a tongue.” Titan insulted even as he managed to get to Alfred and scoop him in one hand. It took all his concentration to make it back to Burton and sit heavily in a seat.
“Put me on the dash.”
“Bossy fucker.” He still tried to get over the fact that a metal skull with jewel-toned eyes spoke to him. How it had ever managed to project such an authentic hologram he didn’t know. He set the skull on the dash, and Alfred went quiet.
“Um, hello?” Titan leaned against the seat and closed his eyes.
“Quiet. I’m working,” the head said.
“How?” Even as he queried, the vehicle roared to life and lights went on inside the tank.
“My wireless signal capacity was not damaged.”
“Meaning?”
“Are you seriously that dense? If it has an electronic control, then I can handle it. Which is a good thing. I can drive while you sleep.”
“I am not sleeping,” Titan said on a giant yawn.
“Sure you’re not.”
The next time Titan woke, he lay on the floor, wet with sweat and trembling. He moaned, closed his eyes, and woke again to his body arching and cramping, gasping for breath. He reared and slammed back down hard enough that his head bounced. The next time he woke, the worst had passed.
He wasn’t shivering anymore, although he did ache. He blinked at the low ceiling of the tank and realized the rumble meant they were still moving.
“Where are we?” he grumbled, pushing himself to a seated position.
“Evading Enclave guards patrolling the tunnels at the moment.”
The reply woke him up further. He shoved to his feet too quickly and smacked his head. “Fuck.” He dropped into the driver sea
t and noticed Alfred still sitting on the console. “What happened?”
“You almost died.”
“I feel it.” He felt hollowed out. And hungry. But first, he dug for some liquids to replenish. As he chugged, Alfred gave a brief summary.
“I’ve put us on autopilot in between hiding spots in the tunnels. Unfortunately, sitting in one place for too long results in curiosity by the locals.”
“People?”
“Not anymore,” was Alfred’s ominous reply.
“What’s our destination?”
“You tell me.”
“Don’t you want to get back to your maker?” It was bitterly spoken.
“Riella will remake me when she gets a chance.”
The concept had him blinking. “But it won’t be you, because you are sitting in front of me.”
“The shell isn’t what counts but the cognition programmed into it.”
“How long can you survive like this?”
Alfred didn’t show any emotion as he said, “Longer than would be possible if anyone else had created me.”
Titan plucked the head from the dash and put it on the seat. “My turn to drive.” He needed to feel useful. Only it wasn’t long before he was nodding in his seat.
When he came to, it was to discover them parked, the engine silent. Had they run out of fuel? He sat up.
“Did you have a good nap?” Alfred said. “Next time you decide to drive and go to sleep, you might want to ensure someone else takes over first. We almost crashed.”
“We didn’t, though.”
“Only because I was paying attention.”
“Fuck you.” He was in no mood for a back-talking robot, even one that was right.
“Aren’t you feisty.”
“Says the head. Keep talking and see what happens. Don’t forget, I could toss you from the car right now, and then what would you do?”
“You’re just angry because Riella never explained who she truly was.”
“I’m angry she never said you weren’t real either.” He hated that he actually thought she might need protecting. Felt stupid for not realizing he was kissing the enemy. Felt ashamed that, even now, the memory of their intimacy together affected him.
“As if you couldn’t guess what I am. Riella always complains I’m too unemotional.”
