Twisted Metal Heart (The Deviant Future Book 3)

by Eve Langlais

  “You could have said thank you.”

  “That’s what I said to Titan all the times I kept us out of trouble,” Alfred exclaimed. “And he never once said thanks.”

  “Hold on, you’ve seen him? He survived?” She shoved her hand into her shirt and retrieved Alfred, whose eyes glowed in the dark.

  “He lived. Barely, and only because of me. You should have given him a neural implant while you were fixing him. He’s none too smart.”

  “He survived. That takes intelligence.”

  “Or luck,” Alfred declared.

  “You think the fact you’re smart is why you survived?” she quipped, heading for the distant glow of her fire.

  “You’re trying to trick me.”

  “Would I do that?” She gasped then laughed. “Admit it, you are lucky, Alfred.”

  “Not that lucky. I don’t have a body.”

  “What if I said I brought you a present?”

  The tiny ball drone fit in the palm of her hand, big enough she could only just grip it. Once she moved his mind—so to speak—over to the drone, Alfred didn’t mind at all his new shape. On the contrary, once he realized he could fly, he shot up into the sky. She let him. She needed sleep, and besides, with Alfred here, she had someone watching over her.

  In the morning, she woke to fresh meat placed beside her fire. A perfect laser hole through its feathered head.

  “I brought breakfast,” Alfred declared.

  She glanced over at the ball drone and wasn’t at all surprised to see he’d activated the hologram aspect. He appeared as a bird, one she assumed was indigenous to this area. People tended to notice metal things in the sky but ignored the wildlife.

  “Where are we?” She wasn’t one to travel above ground when she could be under. At times she wondered which was safer.

  “We are actually not too far from the city.”

  “After I eat and clean up, we’ll head in.”

  “We’ll need transportation.”

  “We have wheels.” She waved a hand to the racer.

  Alfred snorted. “You take that thing into the city and you’ll draw attention. Or is that your plan? Short-lived escape from your mother. Do you miss her?”

  The acerbic words had her lips rounding. “Alfred!”

  “Too much? I blame all of Titan’s complaining. He really dislikes the queen.”

  “He’s not alone,” she muttered. “Speaking of, see any sign of him?” Because part of her discovery last night was that the last time Alfred had seen Titan, they were stuck in the tank, drowning.

  Then the tank was ripped open, and they were yanked along with the current. At least Alfred was. He spent some time caught in a curve of the wall, enough of an indent that it took the bump of something to knock him loose. Then he was caught in some roots when the water receded where she ended up later finding him.

  “He’s probably dead,” she said morosely. Which made no sense. She’d assumed him dead before.

  “Considering he’s cheated it twice before already, I wouldn’t be so sure.”

  Alfred, the voice of optimism? The time submerged might have messed with his circuits.

  “Well, if he is alive, then he’ll be in the city. We need to get there at once.” She had a vague idea of throwing herself at the mercy of its king and asking for asylum. But what if he sold her back to the Emerald queen?

  Perhaps she should go in quietly. Check things out. Get a feel for the vibe in town. She’d heard interesting rumors, and while she’d never met the king in person, she’d heard of him. He was interesting to say the least.

  She placed her hand on her belly. Given her condition, which had taken a beating in the last day, she might want to find a place to hunker down and have her child. If the king couldn’t be trusted, then she could at least lay low and acquire some supplies before moving past the Marshlands into Sapphire and taking a ship somewhere. Or there were the Diamond lands to the north and Ruby lands to the northeast. There was also that dead space to the south that used to be home to the Lazuli. She didn’t know much about that area other than they’d withdrawn after some kind of catastrophe.

  “You might be right about the racer being too flashy.” She sighed as she eyed it. “But what choice do I have? I don’t want to walk for days.”

  “I think I found a place you can trade it,” Alfred announced. “I scouted it earlier.”

  The tiny village was a three-hour drive away in the wrong direction, and the perfect vehicle belonged to someone when she found it. He traded for her racer without even arguing.

  The vehicle she acquired was rudimentary but tough. Four rugged wheels with deep absorbing rubber tread. A seat large enough to sit two, plus a rack on the back to stow gear. It rumbled and popped, but it could move, and if hopped just right, a person could pivot on a single wheel with the other three in the air. She practiced a few times, her ass coming off the seat for a second while just her hands held on.

  The exhilaration had her uttering a small squeal that turned into a wince as the vehicle hit the ground hard and jostled her—and the baby. With a few tweaks, the vehicle could really be made into something extra and safe. She didn’t know how much her body and the pregnancy could handle. What she did know was she had to train herself to be tough early or she’d never make it to the day she’d give birth.

  With her new wheels, it took her another day and a half to reach the outskirts of the Marsh city. At Alfred’s behest, she ditched Joe in a thicket. Joe being the name she’d given her transport. Alfred was less than impressed.

  It wasn’t too difficult to find enough debris to hide Joe. As added security, she fused some wires to the foliage and tied it into a tiny repeating vibration that radiated out and would discourage things from getting near it. It wouldn’t stand up under hard scrutiny or someone determined, but it would hopefully work long enough for her to get in, find what she was looking for, and leave.

  And she didn’t just mean supplies. She intended to find out if Titan survived and somehow ended up here. She had some hope given the man who’d sold her Joe spoke of a robot man winning all the fights in the arena for the last bit.

  People were calling him the Tin Man.

  Could it be Titan? She needed to get inside the city and find out. According to aerial maps Alfred provided, she was an hour’s walk from the city. She took off at a brisk pace, a pack slung over her shoulder. Her clothing was dusty from travel, her face and hair not much better. She’d used the portable cleansing unit to create the trap to protect Joe. Hopefully no one would get close enough to smell her before she could locate a shower. But if they did, they’d never guess she was the runaway daughter of the Emerald queen.

  She followed a beaten-down road, the scrub grass mowed on either side highlighting the narrow strip of worn dirt. She watched the waving fronds for motion against the grain, usually the sign of something hungry coming to take a bite. The marshland on either side of the road seemed deceptively still, the water not rippling, and yet she wouldn’t dare set a foot in it.

  Catching a glimpse of something in the sky, she shielded her eyes and glanced up at the soaring shape of a bird. She recognized Alfred, who she’d sent off with a round metal disc. Anyone looking at it would see a silver mirror, but it emitted a signal she could follow. Alfred would plant it as a beacon if he happened to locate Titan.

  If.

  She had to wonder, given Alfred’s previous opinion of Titan, if he’d bother to let her know or lie. She’d given the robot free will. Not always a good thing.

  As she walked, the left lens in her goggles showed her the footage from Alfred’s camera. No sign of a welcoming party, as it should be. A dusty, lonely traveler didn’t merit a welcoming committee. Her right eye kept scanning the area around her. Things had a tendency of jumping out of tall grass. Those things got shot. She made it to the bridge ambush free. A good thing. Drawing attention would work against her.

  She stood at the far end of the bridge and waited by the metal
post. It stood about four feet out of the ground with a simple grill on the face of it. A speaker of some sort, but she didn’t see a camera.

  “State your business.” The post crackled its demand.

  “Just a traveler looking to visit the market.” The excuse she’d used on previous trips. Of course, she’d usually arrived, bearing the tools of her metal trade, via the guarded tunnel on the far side of the city.

  “Name.”

  She knew better than to use her real one. “Harley.”

  “Current home address?”

  That question was new. She couldn’t exactly tell them the truth. Incognito was the game. “I don’t see how you need to know.”

  “Current address.”

  The repeated question had her snapping, “I’m homeless. Are you happy? Now let me in.”

  “Request denied.”

  She blinked at the post. “Why?”

  It didn’t speak.

  She eyed the bridge. What would happen if she crossed?

  Bad things she imagined. Change of plan.

  She rapped the post. “Listen here, whoever is on the other end of this line. I want to speak with your king.”

  “Do you have an appointment?” The male voice sounded bored.

  “I’m Enclave. I don’t need an appointment,” she snapped. It always worked for Mother.

  Here it earned her a snort. “Sure you are.”

  For a moment, she thought about marching away. There were other villages she could visit. She could even keep going and maybe even make it to Sapphire Port City. But that would mean not investigating the possibility Titan had ended up here.

  Taking a deep breath, she decided it was time to stop hiding. “Tell your king Riella of the Emerald City is here to see him.”

  Eleven

  “Who?

  “Riella Mekka. I’m from Emerald, and I need to speak with the king.”

  “The king is a busy man.”

  “Tell him!” she insisted, wishing she could reach through the speaker and throttle the man.

  “Very well.”

  The post went silent, and she sat with her back against it, pulling out a brush and making some attempt to straighten her hair. The best she managed was to put it in a tail that she then pinned to her head.

  The voice crackled suddenly. “I apologize for the delay, my lady. Your request to enter the city has been granted.”

  “As if there was a doubt,” she muttered. She stalked across the bridge. Its wood was warped and worn. Easy to destroy if they wanted to isolate the city from ground traffic.

  But the water still allowed a point of entry. She glanced over at the gray scum atop the liquid as a huge hump with jagged fins heaved from the muck, massive and slick.

  She would have to remember to swim in clearer waters. The river that moved swiftly around the city appeared to offer a better alternative. The boats tied at dock showed it could be navigated. Not that she wanted to sail. She hated not having her feet on the ground.

  At the far end of the bright, a massive arch a few feet thick and made of stones mortared together possessed a more modern-style security system. Not only did she see a huge portcullis overhead as she passed through but the entire rim of it was lined with small holes singed all around.

  Fire. Nice if you weren’t afraid of burning everything down.

  As he entered into the city proper, a guard, with his hair tied back and long knotted beard, looked ready to go out and wrestle something in the water. Good to know they didn’t stand on formalities here. Although she noticed the farther she entered the city, the more prosperous and modern everything was. Old stone meshed with glossy composite and solar-capturing window panels. Efficient. Expensive. It made her wonder where the ruler of the city got the funds to buy everything.

  Her recollection from a few years ago was that someone calling himself Roark, the Marsh King, had banded together some people in an area that, according to history lessons, was owned by the Sapphire court but left largely unattended. The consensus summed up by Alfred had been that young King Roark was an “Upstart. He won’t last.” It would seem the upstart had done well for himself.

  She pushed her goggles up. Alfred would keep recording everything he saw as he scouted, and she could watch the footage later.

  The city had grown since her last visit. The outer bailiwick now contained by walls but still no motor vehicles. Those remained parked outside the city proper.

  Despite the lack, they weren’t expected to walk to the castle. The guard hailed a buggy pulled by a thing. She had no name for it. It resembled a large rat but with reptilian skin. Docile, though, given it only required a tug of a rein for it to move.

  She knew better than to strike up a conversation with the guard sitting across from her. He eyed her suspiciously. It almost made her want to shout, “Boo!” But he could be the kind with a quick trigger finger. She kept her hands folded and watched the city instead.

  The hustle and bustle was nothing like the calm and order of an Enclave dome. The noise included laughter and song. No one wore uniforms other than the guards. There were no clanking Centurions making people nervous. No bobbing electronic eyes eager to snitch on anyone not following the rules.

  Arriving at the castle gate, Riella was handed off to a more soldierly-looking woman. She had on full-length black pants that were loose around the top, then tight after the knees. The tunic buttoned with strange round rocks that glinted. Her hair presented as a fluffy halo framing a dark-skinned face and clear bright eyes. “Welcome, Lady Riella Mekka, princess of the Emerald demesne. If you’ll follow me, the king has been expecting you.”

  The use of her full name didn’t surprise, but the title startled. She managed to hold it in. “Expecting me? How? I didn’t send word of my arrival.”

  The guard shrugged. “He’s the king. He knows.”

  As she followed the quick-paced woman, she asked, “What’s your name?”

  “Anita Reedstone.”

  She blinked. “You’re Enclave?” Because only the Enclave had two names.

  “No.” Anita snorted. “Marsh born and bred.”

  “Does everyone in the Marsh receive a family name?”

  “Not so much receive as keep. Your parents’ second name becomes yours. We don’t give away our children here.” Spoken with a high chin of defiance.

  “I don’t think they should be given away anywhere,” Riella muttered.

  “That’s not a very Enclave thing to say,” was Anita’s reply as she knocked at a simple door before she opened it onto a library instead of some grand throne room.

  “Majesty, your guest has arrived.”

  Whatever Riella expected of the upstart who would call himself king, it wasn’t the man who stood before her. Regal of bearing, wearing simple black shirt and pants. No crown. He was younger than expected, maybe in his third decade, his face still young, his hair unmarked by gray.

  “Lady Riella. How nice of you to visit,” he said smoothly. “I trust your trip to the city was uneventful.”

  “More or less. The tunnels are flooded.”

  He grimaced. “I’m afraid they won’t be drained anytime soon, meaning passage is now restricted to the pass.”

  “You control it?”

  “Not yet. I let the Sapphire court currently pay to protect it. My guards tend to be farther down that road to exact the necessary tolls.”

  “A merchant thing to say.”

  He spread his hands. “What can I say? The kingdom has expenses. Like maintaining the roads. Surely that deserves compensation.”

  “Did you know they’re calling Eden the free city?”

  “I’d heard rumors. Glad to see they’re sticking.”

  “You’re doing it on purpose?”

  “Why not? We could use more stalwart people.”

  “If that’s the case, then why was I stopped at the bridge? That’s never happened before.”

  “So you have been here previously,” the king declared. “I
did wonder. Yet you never presented yourself to me.”

  “I didn’t know I had to.”

  “I’m king and ruler of the Marshlands. I like to know who’s coming into my lands. We have rules you know.”

  She laughed. “That’s priceless coming from a rebel.”

  For some reason, he smiled. “So news of my exploits are getting around. Excellent.”

  “More rumors?” She arched a brow.

  “Just ensuring people know the truth.”

  “The guard who brought me claimed you knew to expect me. How?” she asked.

  “A few reasons.” He stood from the desk, bringing attention to the library, which had some rustic charm, with wooden shelves and the spines of the books lining it covered in a variety of material from leather to paper to composite plastic. Then there was the thin-screen computer that rose from the touch-top desk.

  “What reasons?” she asked, not getting a dangerous vibe from him but wary all the same.

  “For one, your queen has sent out a request to all the kingdoms to apprehend and return you if you appear.”

  The words had her stiffening. “I won’t go back.”

  “Never said I’d force you. We aren’t called the free city for nothing.” Roark tucked his hands behind his back. “However, I do wonder what makes you so valuable. Why is the Emerald queen so desperate to reclaim a reluctant daughter?” He eyed her with an appraising air.

  She lifted her chin. “She doesn’t like losing her subjects.”

  “No one does, but this effort smacks of desperation, and I am quite enjoying it.”

  “Glad I could help,” she muttered. Although his words did reassure. It didn’t sound as if he planned to hand her over.

  “Consider yourself my guest for as long as you need. My castle is your castle.” He sketched a bow.

  “I don’t know if I can stay. I’m looking for something.” Someone. What if Titan lived but ended up in a village instead of the city? “Have you seen or heard of a man with a bionic arm and leg?”

  “I should have known you’d come looking for the Tin Man,” the king said with a soft chuckle. “The men who found him in the swamp said he put up quite the fight after they saved him from the river. Enough damage that he was arrested.”