‘Where’s Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah?’ demanded Wa-Ka-Mo-Do.
‘Up in Smithy Square, helping the humans.’
‘I’m going up there.’
‘Take your squad with you, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. You will need them to protect you from the robots of Sangrel. They’re angry.’
‘Was that a deliberate insult, La-Ver-Di-Arussah?’
Her smile widened.
‘No. Only advice.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do set off alone. He looked through the entrance to the Copper Market, and saw that the stalls in there were still open. The place was a lot emptier than usual, it was true, but there were still robots selling metal and oil and coal. It made sense, he supposed, robots would need materials with which to repair themselves.
He continued up the hill. Where was everyone else, he wondered? He feared he knew the answer. In houses and buildings, in the caves at the back of the Copper Market, stoking up the fire of their grievances.
There were two peasants up ahead, raking the rubble from the street.
‘What happened here?’ he demanded.
‘Silversmith’s house got hit, Honoured Commander.’
They looked at the ruptured wall of the nearby building. Melted silver droplets were spattered across the road and the rubble.
‘Was anyone hurt?’
‘Silversmith’s family were all killed. Melted.’
‘Melted?’
‘We don’t understand it, Honoured Commander. Whatever hit that building sent a jet of liquid metal into it. The family’s minds burned like flares. If you go in there you can see their bodies welded to each other, the whole family turned into one lump.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do examined the ground. Mixed among the rubble were droplets of iron and aluminium.
‘What are you doing now?’
‘Clearing a path for the humans. There is a transport craft coming. They will need to bring their own weapons up into the city if they are to defend themselves from further attacks.’
‘What about defending us?’ asked Wa-Ka-Mo-Do
‘Honoured Commander?’
They didn’t understand. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do was already gone, heading up the hill. If the humans wanted to inflame the robots of the city to rebellion, they couldn’t go a better way about it.
It wasn’t until later on it occurred to him that that may have been their plan.
Finally, he reached Smithy Square, and he felt as if the current had drained from his spongy-feeling electromuscles.
The rising sun had bitten through the roof of the Emperor’s Palace.
At least that’s how it seemed. Half the roof was gone. Blue tiles hung broken from the torn edges, aluminium was burned to white oxide. The red sun cast a rusted, decaying light over the scene.
‘It’s still burning inside,’ said Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah, appearing at Wa-Ka-Mo-Do’s side. ‘The humans won’t let us in to help extinguish it. They say they have the situation under control.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do looked at the thin black smoke curling into the air through the broken roof. He imagined the ballroom burning, the ancient engravings warping in the heat, the paint flaking from metal.
‘No,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, ‘we go in now, and rust the humans. Get me six robots.’
Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah didn’t move.
‘Did you hear me, Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah?’
‘I’m sorry, Honoured Commander. The Emperor says that we are to obey the humans.’
‘How do you know that, Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah?’ flared Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. ‘How do you KNOW that?’
‘The Vestal Virgins commanded it, in his name.’
‘You’ve seen them?’
‘La-Ver-Di-Arussah did. Honoured Commander, you must be aware that she is part Vestal Virgin herself. Her family is known to have connections to that line.’
‘There is no Vestal Virgin lineage, how could there be?’
Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah did not answer. He was staring shamefully at the ground.
‘Am I alone?’ wondered Wa-Ka-Mo-Do aloud.
Still Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah was silent. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do looked around. The Copper Master’s house stood across the square, seemingly undamaged.
‘Is the radio room untouched?’ wondered Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, an idea forming in his mind.
‘Yes, Honoured Commander.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do came to a decision.
‘Good. I’m going to contact the Emperor. I will make him aware of what’s going on here.’
‘Honoured Commander, the Vestal Virgins were quite explicit. So La-Ver-Di-Arussah said. You are to aid the humans in every respect.’
‘And that I shall, Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah, once I have spoken to the Emperor.’
Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah looked horrified. ‘Honoured Commander, are you suggesting that the Emperor is ignorant of events?’
‘I am not suggesting anything. Look, I am to aid the humans, am I not? Why don’t you go and let them know that I would be pleased to speak to their ambassador at his earliest convenience?’
‘But Honoured Commander—’
‘Thank you, Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah.’
Before Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah could speak again, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do turned and strode across the square, heading for the Copper Master’s house. It glowed red in the morning sun, and Wa-Ka-Mo-Do felt as if he was stepping directly into the forge.
The Copper Guard by the door stood to attention as he entered the building. He strode past into the hallway.
A polished robot hurried up to meet him.
‘Honoured Commander, allow me to escort you to your quarters.’
‘Take me to the radio room, Lo-Kel-Gollu.’
‘Honoured Commander, the Vestal Virgins left specific instructions—’
‘The Vestal Virgins do not command this city.’
‘Honoured Commander . . .’
Ignoring the robot’s cries, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do strode through the building towards the radio room.
What was going on here, he wondered. Why didn’t they want him to know what was going on?
‘Honoured Commander!’
‘Not another word! Go back to your post!’
He mounted the green cast-iron stairs that led up to the radio room, the sound of his feet echoing from the tiled walls.
There was another guard waiting outside the radio room, his sword drawn.
‘Cho-Lee.’
‘Honoured Commander, the Vestal Virgins have ordered that you should not enter here.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do looked the guard up and down. He was a big man, buzzing with lifeforce.
‘Let me pass.’
The robot raised his sword a little, but his voice buzzed with emotion.
‘I’m sorry, Honoured Commander. Shame lies at the end of whichever path I take. Please turn around now, that I may not fight you.’
‘Cho-Lee, I must enter the radio room. You’ve seen what’s happening outside. This is not right.’
‘Honoured Commander, please. Leave, or if you must stay, draw your sword that we may fight as equals.’
Cho-Lee had a well-made body, reflected Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. Polished and humming with energy. He was a good fighter.
‘Cho-Lee, please remember, I am one of the Eleven. Step aside and allow me to pass. This is the order of the Commander of Sangrel, the ultimate authority in this city.’
Cho-Lee looked down at the smaller robot.
‘You are in charge, Honoured Commander?’
‘Of course I am.’ Wa-Ka-Mo-Do saw Cho-Lee’s expression clear. ‘You know that, Cho-Lee.’
Cho-Lee lowered his sword.
‘Then I apologize for my actions.’
‘Apology accepted. You serve in good faith Cho-Lee. Now, I have new orders for you. No one is to pass these doors while I am in this room. Do you understand, Cho-Lee?’
‘I understand, Honoured Commander.’
The guard drew to one side, and Wa-Ka-Mo-Do pushed open the iron door.
He entered the radio room.
Karel
Karel and Melt were walking south into the summ
er. The grass was changing, little yellow and white faces emerged from amongst the green stalks. They watched them as they passed by.
‘The mountains look so beautiful in the sun,’ said Karel, deliberately ignoring the organic life.
Melt said nothing. Never the most talkative of robots, he spoke even less as they approached the central mountain range. Karel guessed he was exhausted by his travels. Despite her madness, Levine had done a good job of scraping away metal in that mine up near the village of Klimt, but he was still too big and heavy. Melt had walked nearly five hundred miles. Karel doubted he himself could walk one mile in that heavy body.
‘I last saw these mountains when I was driving a train,’ he continued, pleased by the sterility of the stone ahead. It would be so good to leave behind the feel of soil beneath his feet. ‘Artemis placed my mind inside a locomotive, you know. I could only see straight ahead. It was winter then . . .’
‘It will be winter somewhere now,’ said Melt. ‘Down in the real south, below the equator. Everything balances out in this world. When summer approaches in the north, winter approaches in the south. When there is happiness in the spring, there is sorrow in autumn.’
Karel was intrigued. Melt rarely admitted to anything.
‘Does it?’ asked Karel. ‘Do you really believe that?’
‘I wish it were true,’ said Melt, sadly.
Karel waited, wondering if Melt would add anything else. Nothing.
‘Have you been to the real south?’ asked Karel. ‘Have you been below the equator?’
‘There’s been fighting ahead,’ said Melt. ‘Look.’
They saw the scars in the ground ahead, ragged gashes of earth amongst the green grass.
‘Kavan,’ said Karel. Their journey to Artemis City was along a path of rumour built on the words exchanged with robots heading north. Those deserters from Spoole’s and Kavan’s armies had told them of this battle, warned them of the destruction, the unexploded shells, the booby traps. Karel and Melt had tried to keep their own company, but more then once they had found themselves hiding with other robots, watching the newly formed militias and bandits that now stamped and bullied their way across the land. Those other lone robots had told them of the little armies and forces that had set up camp in the mountains, each ruling and fighting over their own tiny territories.
Now they were almost there.
‘This must be where Spoole and Kavan faced off, here at the edge of the mountains,’ said Karel, looking up at the distant ledges. They would make a good place to set guns.
‘The road beyond here will be booby trapped,’ said Melt. ‘That’s what I would have done, if I were Spoole, fleeing the battlefield.’
‘And you were a soldier,’ said Karel. ‘So what should we do now, then?’
‘We should leave this path. There are still bodies ahead. So much metal will attract attention, especially in these empty lands.’
Indeed, there was movement in the distance. Peering ahead, between the flanks of the mountains, they saw robots moving about.
‘Why would they bother us, when there is so much metal freely available?’
‘Probably they wouldn’t. But they could capture us, enslave us.’
‘Then we’ll have to fight them. This path is the only one that I know of through these mountains.’
They walked on. Into the battlefield proper. The ground here was torn apart, the earth and vegetation and stones mixed together in an uneven mush. Metal was strewn everywhere. Broken, abandoned. Parts of bodies, some of them covered in a light patina of rust.
‘There must have been so much easy salvage,’ said Melt.
‘These pieces will go too,’ said Karel. ‘These mountains were full of little tribes and kingdoms. They’ll all come creeping back now that Artemis has withdrawn.’
On and on they walked, approaching the pass. They joined the course of a set of railway lines, stepping from sleeper to sleeper.
There was a robot standing in the middle of the tracks. He stood, waiting for them as they approached.
‘Hello,’ he said. ‘My name is Simrock. Which way shall I go?’
‘Whichever way you like,’ said Melt, making to push his way past. Simrock held out his arms.
‘I don’t know which way I like.’
‘You’re Spontaneous, aren’t you?’ said Karel. ‘Where did you come from?’
‘From the mountains. I walked up from the depths, following the paths of those who had gone before me.’
‘Spontaneous?’ said Melt. He seemed angry. ‘There is no such thing!’
‘Of course there is,’ said Karel, puzzled at the big robot’s reaction. ‘I used to work with them, back in Turing City. I was an immigration officer . . .’
Simrock’s eyes glowed.
‘Turing City,’ he said. ‘Yes. I know about Turing City.’
‘Then you have taken a long time coming to the surface. Turing City was destroyed by Artemis five months ago.’
‘He’s a liar,’ said Melt. ‘How could he know about Turing City, if he was formed deep down?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Karel. ‘They just do. Melt, what is the matter? I’ve never seen you so angry.’
It was true. The leaden man had clenched his fists, such was the power running through him.
‘Nothing. I’m okay. I’m fine.’
‘Very well,’ said Karel, doubtfully. He turned to the other robot. ‘What do you do, Simrock? What’s your purpose?’
‘What do I do? I look for the body of Nicolas the Coward. It will be useful in these times.’
‘Nicolas the Coward was just a story,’ said Karel. ‘If he ever did wear an adamantium body, then it would have been found long ago. Anyway, how did he swap his mind from one body to another without any help?’
Simrock tilted his head. ‘There was more than one person there, obviously. When Nicolas’s wife wove the story into their child, she altered the details.’
Melt tugged at Karel’s arm.
‘Why are we wasting our time with this robot? Come on, your wife is waiting for you.’
‘Hold on, Melt. What’s the matter with you?’
‘I told you, nothing!’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘Then don’t. But why waste your time with this robot?’
‘Maybe we can help each other. Simrock, do you know a way through the mountains?’
‘He doesn’t even know where he is!’
‘No, he doesn’t know which way to go. There’s a difference. Where are you now, Simrock?’
‘Just north of the central mountain range.’
‘Apart from this road, do you know another way through the mountains?’
‘I don’t know this road. I only know the Northern Road.’
‘Would you take us to it?’
‘I will. Perhaps Nicolas the Coward will be there.’
Karel didn’t bother to disagree. You couldn’t change the way a robot’s mind was twisted.
And after all, who was to say what was the right way to twist a mind?
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do
The floor, walls and ceiling of the radio room were covered in blue and white tiles that reflected the sound and made listening to transmissions harder than necessary. But this was the room of the Nine Virgins, built by the original Copper Master, and the paintings upon those white tiles must be preserved.
Two desks sat in the middle of the room, the focus of a tangle of wires and cables plugged into the piled black transceiving equipment that stood in marked contrast to the rest of the room. Two robots were on duty, they stood up as they realized Wa-Ka-Mo-Do had entered the room, pulling jacks from their heads as they did so.
‘Honoured Commander, you should not be here . . .’ The robot who spoke had the sign of the knot embossed on his shoulder, signifying he was one of the family of La-Ver-Di-Arussah. He was dressed almost entirely in copper in order to reduce sparks and possible interference.
‘I am the commander of Sangrel, an
d I have decided to enter here,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. ‘I wish to speak to the Emperor himself. Arrange it immediately.’
The two robots exchanged looks.
‘Honoured Commander,’ said the second robot. ‘The Emperor is not a servant to be summoned so . . .’
‘The Emperor’s city of Sangrel was attacked by humans last night. Are you suggesting that the Emperor would not wish to make his Honoured Commander aware of his feelings on this matter?’
‘No, Honoured Commander. But we have been in contact with the Silent City earlier this morning and they made no attempt—’
‘I believe I gave an order?’
Again the two robots looked at each other, then the second of them sat down and plugged a jack directly into his head. He reached out to one of the transceivers before him and turned a dial slowly around.
‘This is four oh one Sangrel calling oh one one Silence.’
‘Receiving you, Sangrel.’
‘Silence, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, of Ko of the state of Ekrano in the High Spires, Commander of the Emperor’s Army of Sangrel, requests an audience with the Emperor.’
‘We will consult the Emperor’s Secretary immediately. Tell the Honoured Commander he will be notified of his audience within the next few weeks.’
The radio robot turned to face Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, but the light of satisfaction in his eyes faded on seeing his commander’s expression.
‘I want to speak to the Emperor immediately,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. ‘On the radio.’
The poor robot looked terrified as he swung back to face the equipment.
‘I’m sorry, Silence. The Honoured Commander insists that he speak to the Emperor immediately.’
There was a pause, and Wa-Ka-Mo-Do could imagine the consternation at the other end of the line. He could see the current surging through the radio operator’s body.
‘Sangrel, your commander is displaying a remarkable lack of understanding of the protocols of court. We suggest you relay this to him.’
‘There is no need!’ wailed the terrified man. ‘He is standing beside me now!’
Another prolonged silence followed. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do looked at the second operator.
‘What’s your name?’ he asked.
‘Li-Kallalla, Honoured Commander.’
‘And I am Go-Ver-Dosai,’ said the one who bore the knot insignia. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do ignored him as the voice on the radio said:
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