Shade's Children

by Garth Nix

  Elly

  Elmore

  Emil

  Falal

  Faman

  Fast Ezzie

  Feinman

  Fernando

  Francis

  Frank I

  Frank II

  Frank III

  Frank IV

  Fred I

  Fred II

  Freddy

  Gally

  Garp

  Gary I

  Gary II

  Gary III

  Gavin

  Gazal

  Ghiza

  Gilmore

  <1899 NAMES REMAINING. DISPLAY NEXT 80 NAMES?>

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  They had to use the Deceptors only once, in the early afternoon, when a trio of Trackers came sniffing and skulking around the base of the tree.

  Ella, who had the watch, heard them coming, so all Deceptors were active—and the Trackers eventually moved on. One did seem to pick up the traces of rain-washed vomit, but was incapable of connecting it with an empty tree. Myrmidons followed the Trackers, crashing along the graveled paths, with a Myrmidon Master at their head, but they did no more than look up briefly as they passed.

  By four o’clock it was almost full dark, the rain and clouds bringing dusk early. Ella went down for a scout around and confirmed that the Myrmidons, Trackers, and Wingers were returning to their respective lairs. The Ferrets were probably coming out, but they would be slow, reluctant to leave the comfort of their dry underground nests for a rainy night.

  At five o’clock they all climbed down and started heading back toward the bay and the Submarine.

  It was an odd journey—the Deceptors allowing them to just get back on the freeway and follow it all the way into the city proper. They walked silently in single file, weaving in and out between the cars, occasionally dodging some bedraggled Ferrets or changing lanes to take advantage of still-functioning streetlights.

  With nightfall it had started getting colder again—cold enough to be worrying, particularly in their drenched state, with no sign of the rain letting up. Ninde was already sneezing, and they had no ColdCure tablets in their first-aid kits. A rarity even before the Change, the few tablets that had been found were stored in the Sub for the worst cases, usually people on the verge of pneumonia.

  The cold and the rain combined to make them think of hot showers, and they increased their pace, till their minds were largely fixed on just reaching their destination. Even walking in the open down Central Avenue didn’t raise much interest, nor did their passage beneath the vast City Tower, where white light and Winger cocoons merged with cloud halfway up its one hundred fifty floors.

  Finally they crossed Governor’s Park and followed a footpath overlaid with rushing sheets of water, the path taking them down the green hill to the Blue Inlet finger wharves—where they stopped. Here they instinctively moved closer together as they looked out with horror.

  Where the dark bulk of the Submarine should be visible against the lighter sea, there were lights. Hundreds and hundreds of witchlights all along its length, and Myrmidons stamping to and fro on the hull and on the wharves, the echo of their nailed boots just audible above the beat of the rain and the rushing of the wind.

  Glints of color came off the Myrmidons as the witchlight caught them, color refracted by the raindrops, shining through the wet haze like luminous blood. Red, for Red Diamond.

  No one spoke for a while as they stared down at their former home—the only hope they had ever had.

  Finally Ella said, “Stay here. I’ll go down and have a closer look.”

  “What for?” asked Ninde, shivering. “They’re all over it. Everyone will be gone. Everything…”

  “Some might have got away,” whispered Drum. “Any teams that were out…. At least it’s obvious they’re there. We could have just walked back in.”

  “What…where we go?” asked Gold-Eye. He was shivering too. It had been less than a week since he’d been found by the others, but his previous life seemed like a dream—a nightmare he didn’t want to go back to.

  “One of the emergency caches, first,” replied Ella. “Probably the closest one, at the mouth of the Eastern Line railway tunnel, if it’s not too badly flooded. But stay here for a few minutes—I won’t be long.”

  She started off down the wharf, carefully watching her footing and the moving witchlights at the other end. Witchlights hung by the dozens on branches carried by ill-tempered Myrmidons, who looked angry at being kept awake beyond dusk.

  The others crouched under the eaves of a shed that had once been a Naval Police guardhouse.

  Ella crept closer to the Submarine till she was about twenty yards away. The Myrmidons had obviously been there for some time, because most were simply standing around as if awaiting further orders. There was one maniple on the wharf, another on the hull of the Submarine.

  All wore the ruby breastplates and scarlet ring mail that proclaimed their allegiance to Red Diamond.

  Watching them, Ella was struck for a second with the hope that they might be standing there because they couldn’t get in. Then one of the witchlight bearers moved to avoid the wash of an ambitious wave, and she saw that a hole had been cut into the Submarine’s deck. A long, rectangular hole, as if the top of the hull had been peeled back like the lid of a sardine can.

  Something was moving about in the hole, and Ella was just about to creep closer, trusting to her Deceptor, when she realized that the movement came from something climbing out, something that wore a red helmet that glowed like fire, brighter than the yellow witchlights above. It could only be Red Diamond.

  Instantly she threw herself flat on the planks, hoping the darkness and rain would cloak her from the Overlord’s sight. If it was human, as Ninde claimed, then the Deceptor definitely would not work.

  The Overlord climbed onto the deck, red helmet blazing and cloak flickering with yellow-and-orange fires. It seemed to turn toward the shore and look right at Ella. She pressed herself still further into the planks, trying to become just a piece of old wood, praying for the rain to double in intensity, for fog to suddenly rise…anything…

  Red Diamond turned and looked out to sea—then went back down the hole, leaving a hot after-image burning at the back of Ella’s eyes.

  As soon as it disappeared, she squirmed backward on her belly. When she judged she was far enough away, she spun around and ran back to the others.

  They heard her coming, footsteps quick and heavy on the planks, and were waiting with drawn swords, ready to face possible pursuers.

  “Overlord on the Sub,” explained Ella, panting. “Red Diamond. They peeled back the top of the Sub to get in. We’d better get to the cache before they do—if they aren’t there already.”

  “Why? They never question anyone,” said Ninde. “They just take them to the Meat Factory…don’t they?”

  “They certainly have never acted as if they question people,” replied Ella. “But then we’ve never broken into the Meat Factory before. It isn’t the people talking I’m worried about. It’s Shade.”

  “Shade?” asked Gold-Eye, thinking back to the dark, empty room where he’d first met Shade. “How Overlords know he even there?”

  “Black Banner knew something about a ‘person in a computer,’” replied Ella grimly. “If Shade’s still there, they’ll find him. And Shade knows everything….”

  “What do you mean, if he’s still there?” asked Ninde. “How can he not be? I mean, the computer’s there, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” replied Ella. “But he may have another one to send his personality to. Mac…one of the older people when I first came…said he’d helped get hardware for it….”

  “Shade wouldn’t have had time,” said Drum. “Not if they went in through the deck. That was the whole point of the automatically locking hatches and having us all die defending each corridor. To give Shade enough time to download himself to another location.”

  “That’s not true!” said El
la—but she didn’t say it with any confidence.

  “I know that’s what he planned,” said Drum softly. “I used to talk to the oldsters too, remember? And I know that it would take quite some time for him to do it. I think that for better…or worse…we’re no longer Shade’s Children.”

  ARCHIVE—COMMUNICATIONS TEST: FIRST CONTACT

 

 

 

  <1-MAINTAINS DIMENSIONAL SHIFT.>

  <2-POWER DISTRIBUTION A.>

  <3-POWER DISTRIBUTION B.>

  <4-OVERLORD COMMUNICATIONS.>

  <5-RELAY MONITORING.>

 

  Transmission: Who speaks? Are you the one whose pawns have broken into the Central Processing Facility? Where are you? How did you translate here? Whom do you represent?

 

  Transmission: You will answer our questions. Now or later.

  Reply: I am Shade. You will answer my questions first.

 

 

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  The cache was located a hundred yards into a railway tunnel—a steeply sloping tunnel that ran down into what had become a permanent underground lake, where several flooded tunnels met at a long-drowned station.

  The cache itself was in the rearmost carriage of a train, the only carriage that was not completely underwater. It was a two-story passenger car, so the upper floor and part of the guard’s compartment at the rear were relatively dry.

  Normally you could easily wade from the tunnel mouth to this carriage, but the rain had raised the water level. Now the underground lake was pushing itself up the tunnel.

  Ella led the way, her witchlight raised, occasionally having to swim one-armed through places where the tunnel floor had collapsed. The others followed her light, trying to stifle their sneezes and coughs.

  All the Deceptors were off and stored in watertight pouches, as deep water was enough protection against Ferrets. Myrmidons might be forced to wade in by an Overlord, but they would use lights and so give warning.

  The last ten yards to the carriage Ella had to swim: Her feet were unable to touch bottom at all. Water swirled in currents about her, going both up and down the tunnel without any obvious pattern.

  The carriage loomed ahead, silver steel glinting in the witchlight she held up with difficulty as she sidestroked toward it. With a last few energetic kicks, she entered the carriage and stood up. Water was flowing through the doors on the other side, but came up only to her knees, lapping at the second of the six steps up to the second level.

  Ella moved toward the steps as the others came in behind her—then froze, hand at her sword. Something was moving up there, something clicking—like a Myrmidon’s hobnailed boots on the steel floor.

  Drum joined her, his sword drawn. Ninde and Gold-Eye were ready too, as the clicking noise grew closer, coming toward the steps. It sounded like a Myrmidon uncharacteristically creeping…or even a new creature, one that didn’t mind water….

  Then it reached the top of the steps and was caught in the glow of the witchlight and fixed in the whiter glare of Drum’s flashlight.

  It was one of Shade’s spider robots. As its jointed legs felt for the steps, it seemed to sense, or see, them, and waved its front legs in a way that might have been a greeting—or a warning to stay away.

  They watched it warily as it ceased its display and started slowly down the steps.

  “Can they swim?” whispered Ninde nervously, looking behind her at the dark water all around the carriage.

  “Probably,” Ella whispered back, without taking her eyes off the robot. “I just wonder what Shade programmed them to do after he…after he wasn’t around to direct them.”

  “But I am around,” declared Shade, his voice suddenly crackling and buzzing out of both the spider robot and the carriage’s speakers. “I got away—as you did, I am glad to see. Come up. I have something to show you.”

  The robot partly turned and beckoned with one segmented limb, the other seven already clawing back up the steps. Gold-Eye shuddered at its creepy, high-legged progress and looked at Ninde, then at Drum and Ella, till all four were facing each other. They still hadn’t put away their swords.

  “There are dry clothes up there, and food,” Ella said. “We need them.”

  “If he did get away, it was at the cost of everyone in the Sub,” said Drum bitterly. “They’ll all be in the Meat Factory now….”

  “Ah, Drum,” interrupted Shade, from the carriage’s speakers. “You never did have any faith in me. While I greatly…greatly regret the loss of our people, it was pure good luck that I escaped. You see, I wasn’t even there.”

  “What!” protested Drum, his round face reddening. Gold-Eye hadn’t ever seen him so angry.

  “Come up,” continued Shade. “And you will understand.”

  Ella was the first to sheathe her sword and go up the steps, followed by Ninde and then Gold-Eye. Finally Drum followed, his soft wet-suit boots shaking the carriage as he stomped up the steps.

  At the top he saw that the whole second floor of the carriage had been gutted, all the seats removed. One end was piled high with boxes and containers—far more than the allotment decribed in the lesson on emergency caches. Fluorescent lights were flickering on too, making him blink with their sudden white radiance.

  A large multibar radiator was starting to glow red. Ninde and Gold-Eye shivered in front of it, and steam began to wisp up from their sodden clothes.

  And there were spider robots everywhere. Most sat inactive, legs folded undeneath them, far too like real spiders playing dead. There were rat robots too, red eyes gleaming from between boxes and bags.

  There was no sign of the sort of computing equipment that would be needed to store Shade’s personality.

  However, there was an enormous spider robot, about half the size of Drum. Unlike the others, its spherical body was made of translucent material, like partly clouded crystal. Optic fibers sparkled with laser light inside the sphere, fibers that coiled around and around the strange conch-shell device Ninde had brought back from Fort Robertson.

  Clearly, Shade had transferred himself from his old computers to the Overlord’s Thinker.

  “Now we’re all here,” said Shade, his voice emanating from somewhere inside the spider robot’s body and echoing in a whisper from all the other robots around. “I think…you begin to understand.”

  “The Thinker,” said Ella. “It’s a computer, and you’ve transferred yourself to it.”

  “More than a computer,” said Shade proudly, front spider legs preening. “But in essence, you are correct. After considerable testing, I did indeed transfer myself to this new, and so much smaller and more convenient, host. Then it became only logical to build a robotic carriage to endow me with the mobility I have always lacked.”

  “What happened at the Sub?” asked Drum, not bothering to raise his hand. His voice was piercing, carrying with it considerable anger.

  “I was out testing this…ah…body,” replied Shade. “So I cannot be sure. The attack came very swiftly, and the Overlord employed some sort of EMP device—that is, an electromagnetic pulse—which knocked out my Eyes and robots. Had I still been…in residence, shall we say…in my old host computer, it would also have at least temporarily incapacitated me. Another unknown device—perhaps some sort of controlled fusion lance—was then used to cut straight through the deck to allow the Myrmidons quick access.

  “I fear that without any warning, and without my ability to automatically lock hatches, any resistance would have been short. Certainly the Wingers came swiftly and carried many burdens away.”

  “Why was there no warning?” asked Drum, less angry now. “Surely your Eyes on the dock could have seen this Overl
ord coming before the device was used?”

  “It was too sudden.” Shade sighed. “The Overlord came in by Winger, flying low over the sea, and used the EMP weapon at about the same time I saw it. Then my Eyes were blind and I lost all communication with the Sub.”

  “Did anyone get out?” asked Ninde. “Stelo…or anyone?”

  “I fear not,” said Shade. “We will remember them.”

  “We will remember them,” muttered Ella and Ninde mechanically. Gold-Eye belatedly joined in, but Drum said nothing. Standing like a night-clad statue, he watched the Shade robot in silence.

  “But amidst this disaster,” Shade continued, “I do have some good news. News we have all been waiting for since the Change. I have learned how it was done…and how to turn it back.”

  VIDEO ARCHIVE—SECRET 2875 • STELO AND MARG

 

  Stelo: Lucky you saw the robots bugging out.

  Marg: Is…is that…a joke?

  Stelo: What?

  Marg: Bugging out. Because they look like spiders…bugging out…bugging…

  Stelo: Marg! Marg! Don’t. We’ve got a long way to go. You have to stay together….

  Marg: I’m sorry…I…Look, I’ll carry Peter for a while….

  Stelo: No, Marg…there’s no need…. I’ll be…I’ll be putting him down soon. Somewhere the Ferrets won’t get at him.

  Marg: But he…I don’t…

  Stelo: He lost too much blood. He was dead when I pulled him out of the water.