Melt came around behind Karel.
‘Take off your panelling, and I will straighten it for you and hammer out its dents. I will file it and apply solder and rub in oil.’
Karel didn’t need to be told twice. He fumbled a little at first with the joints. The body was built so that an enemy would find it difficult to pierce its seams, and Karel was unused to this design. Finally he stripped away the panels of his upper body and sat there, naked electromuscle glinting in the firelight. He examined its pattern. There was nothing fancy there, just simple arrangements that any soldier would be able to knit and maintain. The last owner of the body had done a reasonable job of keeping it in order. There wasn’t time to knit new muscle, so for the moment Karel did the best he could, straightening out kinks here and there and applying oil or the hot knife as appropriate. He cleaned out his feet and his legs, he did what he could with the cogs and gears of his chest section. All the time behind him came the scrape and tap and bang of Melt working on the panelling.
Eventually they were both done. Karel accepted the panelling and was impressed by the neat job Melt had made of it. Everything fitted smoothly back together. Karel swung his arms and stamped his feet, feeling how easily the metal slid over itself. There were none of the annoying clicks and catches he had grown used to over the past few days.
‘A good job,’ said Karel. ‘Whoever you were, Melt, you were a skilled builder.’
‘Thank you,’ said Melt, obviously pleased.
They made their way from the forge into the clear morning. A fresh breeze blew off the sea, and Karel was pleased to note it no longer penetrated his body.
They looked around the large square into which the sea road emerged. They were in the middle of a crossroads. Another road ran southwards, through the remains of the city. Once grand buildings lined either side of the road, their facades broken, their upper stories missing. Rusty trails ran down marble facings, metalwork long dissolved by the rain.
‘The Northern Road,’ said Melt. ‘Morphobia Alligator said that was the way to your wife.’
‘Morphobia Alligator,’ said Karel. ‘I wonder where he is now? Is he watching us, do you think?’
‘I don’t know.’
Karel gazed southwards, down the lines of buildings to the distant hills.
‘Very well,’ he said. ‘Let’s go. Susan, I’m on my way.’
They set off.
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do
Sangrel had grown rich on copper. Green copper was a constant theme in the patterned roofs of the city. In the past, on special days, the most honoured robots of the city had dressed in new copper skins, the metal so fresh it shone pink in the sunlight.
No wonder the second most important building in the city was the Copper Master’s House.
Smithy Square was the highest plateau that had been levelled on Sangrel Mound. The Copper Master’s house stood at the south side: a low white-painted building that gleamed brightly in the midday sun. Its windows and doors were bordered in gold and silver. Four bell towers rose from the top of the house, each containing seventeen bells of varying copper alloys. The peels of music that rang forth on special days could be heard for miles across the province.
‘This is a beautiful place, Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah,’ observed Wa-Ka-Mo-Do.
Smithy Square was thronged with both robots and animals, and all of them walked and sat and chatted amongst some of the loveliest scenery in Yukawa. The patterned domes of the Emperor’s Palace lay to the north, the bell towers of the Copper Master’s house to the south, and as for the view from the western edge of the square . . .
A woman was coming towards them. She wore the body of an Imperial Warrior, but the metal and the quality of its construction told of her true rank. She moved with a grace that only the best engineering skill could achieve. This was a woman who had had access to the finest materials since the day of her making, a woman who had been trained well in the arts of metalwork. Her panelling was of brushed aluminium, her arms and legs were curved and sprung, there was a pattern of gold filigree around her head, tracing loops around her eyes and ears.
Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah stepped forward.
‘Honoured Commander, may I present La-Ver-Di-Arussah, Commander of the Copper Guard. La-Ver-Di-Arussah, this is Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, Commander of the Emperor’s Army of Sangrel.’
They touched each other’s upper arms, felt the current there. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do noted the knot patterns engraved just above her shoulders, emblems of one of the imperial families.
‘Honoured Commander, and how is life in the High Spires?’
For a moment Wa-Ka-Mo-Do thought this was a gentle insult, and then he felt La-Ver-Di-Arussah’s finger slip into his palm and trace a shape. A circle on a circle. Current sang into life as he realized what she was doing. The Book of Robots. Did she know? Was the truth woven into her mind too?
‘You pause, Honoured Commander,’ said La-Ver-Di-Arussah, and there was something in her gaze that caused Wa-Ka-Mo-Do to remain still for the moment. ‘Do you recognize the sign?’
‘I do, La-Ver-Di-Arussah. It is the symbol of those who believe in the Book of Robots. Those who believe that there is a shape and a philosophy that all robots should adopt, a shape given to them by the makers of the first robots.’
‘And do you believe that, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do?’
‘Such beliefs are treason, La-Ver-Di-Arussah, as I’m sure you know.’ He changed the subject. ‘There are more important things to discuss. Someone has been defacing the walls of this city with graffiti. Are you aware of this?’
‘Indeed, Honoured Commander. You will be pleased to know that such incidents are dealt with immediately. Punishment is swift and severe.’ She looked at the robots who had accompanied Wa-Ka-Mo-Do to the square.
‘These robots were found in the presence of graffiti not five minutes ago,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. ‘They were to be executed by the Copper Guard.’
‘As is right and proper.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do gazed into her eyes. They shone a blue-silver colour he had never seen before.
‘I have spared them.’
‘Is that wise?’
‘Only the guilty are to be punished, La-Ver-Di-Arussah. I believe that making an example of the innocent will only inflame the situation.’
There was the merest flicker in La-Ver-Di-Arussah’s eyes, but she controlled her anger quickly.
‘As the commander wishes,’ she said, and then she smiled. ‘Sparing peasants? Doesn’t it say something in the Book of Robots about all robots looking after each other?’
‘You seem to know a lot about the book, La-Ver-Di-Arussah.’
‘A little, a little. I must say, Honoured Commander, I am surprised that you do not. The belief is rife in the High Spires, is it not?’
‘I am a warrior, La-Ver-Di-Arussah.’
‘I notice that you do not deny your belief, Honoured Commander.’
‘I am also your commander, La-Ver-Di-Arussah. You will be silent now.’
‘Honoured Commander, surely we have much to discuss?’
‘No. This is a time for you to listen. I have new orders. Innocents are not to be executed by way of example. You will ensure this message goes out to the Copper Guard immediately.’
‘Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah can do that.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do’s voice remained level.
‘You question my orders? Do you wish to fight me now? Challenge me to a duel, if you believe you would make the better commander?’
He held her gaze. This was the true warrior’s duel, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do knew. Before the swords were drawn, before the bullets were fired: when two robots gazed into each others eyes to see who would falter first.
That robot was La-Ver-Di-Arussah.
‘Fight a duel, Honoured Commander?’ she smiled. ‘That may be the way in the High Spires, but certainly not in the Silent City. And not even here in Sangrel. Of course I will carry out your orders immediately.’
At that she turned and walked away.
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do looked at
Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah, hot current humming within him.
‘Well, Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah?’ he said.
‘Honoured Commander?’
‘Release the prisoners.’
They turned to the four robots.
‘But Honoured Commander, they will have seen and heard everything!’
‘Good! Then the word will spread, that the new commander will not tolerate anything that will bring the name of Sangrel and the Emperor into dispute.’
‘As you wish, Honoured Commander.’
Whilst Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah gave the orders, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do turned and gazed around the square. There were so many people here, robot and animal. But it was the humans who drew his attention still, so alien, so unnatural in their strange panelling, their insubstantial bodies. They seemed so ineffectual, and yet look at the trouble they had already brought to Sangrel.
‘Tell me, Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah. Do you think that the animals have souls, as we do?’
‘Souls, Honoured Commander?’
‘I mean, they are obviously intelligent, I have seen evidence of their machinery as I travelled here. But do they have that capacity twisted into their wire that means they can appreciate beauty, as we can?’
‘I think so, Honoured Commander. Look over there.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do had already noticed the animals that leaned on the stone balustrade at the western edge of Smithy Square. Now he saw how they were looking out over the western lands of Sangrel province, over the rolling green hills, over the neat orange squares of the open cast mines and quarries, over the tall mine towers. They were gazing at the still blue waters of Lake Ochoa and the Mound of Eternity beyond. They were obviously enjoying the view.
‘I would fear a robot with a soul far more than a merely intelligent animal,’ quoted Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. ‘For only a robot with a soul would understand cruelty.’
He gazed again at the animals standing by the balustrade. They all wore grey and green panelling, and something about the way they moved put him in mind of soldiers. The other animals in the square wore different colours, striking colours, many of which Wa-Ka-Mo-Do had never seen before. Pale greens that seemed to fluoresce in the sunlight, strong reds like iron in the fire. Their panelling reminded him of the flowers of the forest.
‘Look around and one may believe that all is harmony,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do.
‘Indeed,’ answered Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah.
‘I wonder just how aware the Emperor is of what is happening in Sangrel?’
Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah waited for two young women to walk past. Their panelling was of the thinnest aluminium, their golden electromuscle lovely to behold. They were carrying bundles of red cloth in their arms. Now Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah spoke in low tones.
‘I have heard that the Vestal Virgins walk abroad. There is talk that they once more inhabit the Eternal Mound.’
‘The Vestal Virgins?’ Wa-Ka-Mo-Do feigned innocence, but he remembered the Emperor’s words back in the Silent City. He knew the Vestal Virgins had been sent here to watch him. ‘But why would the Emperor send them here?’ he asked.
‘To ensure that Emperor’s wishes are followed.’
‘Am I to command them too?’
‘Honoured Commander, you joke. For you know, of course, that the Vestal Virgins answer to none save the Emperor.’
And perhaps not even him, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do added to himself.
‘There may be another reason for the Vestal Virgins’ presence, Honoured Commander. For it is known that where the Emperor wishes to forge peace and harmony and accord, there he sends his Imperial Army.’
‘Indeed.’
‘And where the seeds of discord are to be sewn, then the Vestal Virgins can be found, tending and watering and pruning.’ Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah lowered his voice further, and Wa-Ka-Mo-Do could feel the burning shame he felt has he gave his warning. ‘Watch the humans, Honoured Commander. Listen to their words. For I do not think they are telling all.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do looked around the square, felt the peace and the tranquility of hundreds of years of history.
‘It is difficult to think that such things can come to an end, Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah.’
‘I fear they have ended already,’ said Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah, gazing at the green-panelled humans by the balustrade. They had finished their contemplation of the view and were walking back to the Emperor’s Palace. They seemed to march almost in step.
‘Come, let us enter the Copper Master’s house, Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah. I’m sure that things will not be as bad as you describe.’
‘Perhaps not.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do placed his foot on the steps leading up to the white house, but Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah touched a hand to his elbow.
‘Before we do . . .’ Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah seemed to be struggling with his conscience. ‘I do not like to say this, Honoured Commander, but I would speak the truth. You are an outsider, one of the Eleven from the High Spires. Robots famed for their skill on the battlefield, robots who proved themselves in the past when Yukawa had enemies on its borders, but who are rarely required in these more, shall we say, settledtimes.’
‘That may be so, Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah.’
‘Indeed. I am sorry to say this, Honoured Commander, but do you not feel that you are a strange choice for such an important command as this?’
‘Explain yourself, Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do sternly, though the same suspicions walked his own mind.
‘I am sorry, Honoured Commander, but animals walk abroad in Sangrel, dissent is rife among the population. Surely this is a job for a commander of the Imperial Army, one versed in politics, one who knows the area? A robot such as La-Ver-Di-Arussah? Yet when the call came, no such robot was found to be suitable.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do said nothing. Emboldened, Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah spoke on.
‘I wonder why the Emperor has had you sent here, and I feel it is because it will not matter so much if you fail.’
The young robot gazed directly into Wa-Ka-Mo-Do’s eyes.
‘I fear that you are to be made a scapegoat, Honoured Commander.’
Susan
Susan knelt in the making room, twisting the metal of the Storm Trooper who sat before her.
She hated the Storm Troopers, hated the thick feel of their wire in her hands, hated the sharp feel of the potential current in there.
‘There we are ladies, you may put down the minds.’
Susan remembered the first time she had put down a half-completed mind, the horror she had felt at seeing the wire untwist and the potential life die. Now it was such a common occurrence she felt nothing except an emptiness inside, like someone had scooped out all the living parts of her body, leaving behind nothing but the metal shell. She felt like a ghost.
There were nineteen other mothers in Susan’s making room, all of them women who had been captured from Turing City, all of them united by their hatred of her. They hated her for her friendship with Nettie, hated her for what she had been back in Turing City: the wife of Karel. They thought Karel was a traitor, because of who his father was. Yet was it Karel’s fault that his mother had been raped by an Artemisian soldier? After all, it was no more than what was happening to them all now.
The twenty Storm Troopers in the room filed out, their wire cooling on the floor where the women had dropped it. Susan could feel the current surging in their strong bodies, and she hated it. She hated their arrogant swagger, hated the way they looked at the women, at everyone, like they were inferior beings. Didn’t they realize that such thoughts weren’t the Artemisian way? She wanted to scream that truth out to them, even though she wasn’t an Artemisian herself.
Nettie waited until the last of the Storm Troopers had left the room; she listened to their heavy tread ringing down the metal corridor. When she was sure they were out of earshot, she spoke up brightly.
‘Now ladies, what have we learned?’
The women looked at Nettie with contempt, all of them except Susan. Nettie had never woven a mind herself, yet she was responsible for tra
ining them all how to weave minds for Artemis. But there was something else, Susan recognized. Nettie was always at her brightest when she was unhappiest.
‘I don’t get it,’ said Diehl, more in frustration than anything else. ‘The minds will be strong, but they won’t be able to think properly.’
Some of the other women murmured agreement.
‘Don’t worry about that ladies, it doesn’t matter,’ said Nettie. ‘Is the basic pattern sound?’
She looked at Susan for help.
‘It’s sound,’ said Susan, ignoring the looks of the other women. ‘It just doesn’t make any sense. Seriously, Nettie, I really don’t understand. Why are we doing this?’
‘Nyro’s will,’ said Nettie, and she smiled at them all.
The women said nothing. They had learned long ago that Nyro’s will was a euphemism for orders from Artemis command.
Nettie looked back to the doorway of the making room, and there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.
‘Listen,’ said Nettie, ‘Please! Don’t make a fuss. It could be so much worse. Really! The other women are making two minds a night now, you know that, don’t you? I had to push to get this assignment for you ladies. Really, I did!’
‘We know,’ said Susan. The other women made grudging noises of agreement. ‘We believe you, we’re grateful, honestly. But what is going on?’
‘No one will tell me,’ said Nettie, and she sagged suddenly as a wave of misery overwhelmed her. ‘I don’t know what’s happening! Everything is confusion within the city. Something happened up in the north. Something bad. Spoole and the Generals returned to the city much earlier than expected and suddenly everything has been put on a war footing. We have stepped up production of everything: minds, robots, metal.’
‘It will be Kavan,’ said Diehl. She looked around the assembled women. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘You’ve all heard the soldiers talk as we kneel before them. They think that Kavan is some sort of hero. Another Nyro, almost, and you know how much they think of her.’
‘Not all the soldiers,’ said another woman. ‘The Storm Troopers aren’t so keen on Kavan.’
Kavan, thought Susan. He was the robot who had destroyed Turing City. He had killed her child and had taken her husband away from her. Now, maybe, he was returning to Artemis City.
Blood and Iron Page 11
