The Clockwork God

by Jamie Sedgwick

  “You’re dead!” he shouted through the blood. “I’m going to rip your head off, whore!”

  He lunged at her, and River danced back. She was dazed. She moved slower than she meant to and somehow he managed to latch onto her boot. He gave her a yank and River dropped to the roof. She scrambled back frantically, but he held fast. Instinctively, River kicked at him with her free leg. She landed a solid blow to the side of his head and the commander lost his grip. He rolled sideways, moaning as he clutched at his head. Blood ran freely from his nose and smeared the steel roof around him, slickening the surface.

  For a moment, the battle seemed to be over. River crawled to her feet and leapt toward the hatch. Unfortunately, the commander managed to get to his knees and throw himself in her path. She twisted out of reach as he lunged for her, and she took a step backwards. The commander’s right hand snaked around his back, and a long dagger appeared.

  “That’s enough playing,” he said hoarsely.

  River danced back as he swung the blade at her. The glimmering steel whistled through the air, missing her throat by a fraction of an inch. Her gaze flitted back and forth from his face to the dagger, and to the open hatch just a few feet beyond. Over his shoulder, the castle came into view. She was running out of time.

  River lunged at the commander, trying to draw the older man into an attack and force him off balance. He swung at her, but with minimal effort. He was too clever to be fooled by that trick. He pressed forward, brandishing the dagger menacingly, and an evil laugh erupted from his throat. River had no choice but to take a step back, putting even more distance between herself and the hatch.

  “Keep going,” the commander said. “Keep walking. Sooner or later, you’re gonna run out of train.” He wiped his face with the back of his sleeve and smeared blood over the fabric. Gooey black and crimson clots dribbled down over his lips and across his chin. River’s stomach churned at the sight.

  He was right, she realized. It would be hard enough to jump to the next railcar while avoiding that knife. What would happen when she reached the end of the train? He’d kill her, that was what. He’d rape her and then slit her throat and toss her over the rails. By then, they’d be inside the city and she’d be food for the Ancients.

  River glanced over the edge of the roof, and contemplated leaping into the ravine. She wouldn’t survive the fall but at least it would be quick. Somehow, it wasn’t as frightening as before.

  River heard a strange whirring sound and glanced over the commander’s shoulder. He took no note of the noise, instead lunging forward with another attack. River dodged. As she moved aside, she saw a lightning flash of steel; a metal ball the size of her thumb barreling through the air so fast it was hardly even visible. River had a fraction of a second to recognize the shape of a crude musket ball before it plunged into the back of the commander’s skull. He froze, mid-step, and the knife slipped from his grasp. It clattered to the metal roof and skittered off the edge. River stared at the commander, too shocked to move.

  His eyes rolled back in his head and he dropped forward, nearly crashing into her. River stepped aside, allowing Maru’s body to drop to the railcar. Blood poured out of his skull and his limbs twitched uncontrollably for a few seconds. At last, he went perfectly still. River looked up to see Thane standing on the roof at the end of the next car. She stared at him, her mouth agape. He wasn’t carrying a musket, or any other firearm that she could see. How could he possibly have thrown that steel ball so powerfully?

  “What did you do?”

  “Sling,” he explained, holding up a long leather thong. He leapt the gap between railcars and hurried to her side. “It’s the only weapon I ever could seem to use right.”

  “Thanks,” she said somewhat awkwardly. She was still dazed from the fight, and slightly in shock from its sudden resolution.

  “My pleasure,” Thane said.

  He nudged the commander’s body with his boot, and the lifeless corpse slid over the edge of the railcar and plunged into the ravine below. River’s eyes widened as she realized they were entering the castle.

  “My gun!” she said, leaping for the hatch. “I have to get to the back of the train.”

  “Ah, one thing,” Thane said awkwardly, eyeing her exposed breasts. River glanced down.

  “Oh!” she said, reaching for her bodice. “Sorry!”

  “No, sweetness,” Thane said with a laugh. “Never, ever apologize for that.”

  He winked at her and River blushed as she yanked the strings tight. She wordlessly dropped through the hatch, vanishing into the car below. Thane stared after her for a moment, smiling.

  River blinked, trying to adjust her vision to the darkness inside the railcar. She turned and caught a glimpse of the town square passing by through the window. Awkward, lumbering shapes moved about in the silvery moonlight. She saw them straggling, crawling, reaching for the train. She saw their horrid disjointed faces and gleaming skulls; saw them tripping and tumbling under the wheels of the train to be crushed against the unyielding iron tracks.

  Horrified, she drew her gaze away. A glint of brass caught her eye and she snatched up her weapon, instinctively shoving it back into the holster on her hip. River broke into a run, flying down the hall and out the door, pausing only long enough to turn the handle as she entered the next car. Running at full tilt, she barely spared a glance at the contents of the railcars around her. She sped through tunnel-like hallways and broad, empty cars, leaping over piles of stored goods and mechanical odds and ends.

  Through the windows, she caught glimpses of the town square and knew that, if nothing else, she was at least matching the train’s speed. Unfortunately, the Iron Horse was gaining speed with every passing second, and River couldn’t run any faster. She tore through another door, nearly ripping it off the hinges, and at last found herself at the end of the train. She reached for the handle and her heart sank as it held firm in her grasp. The door was locked.

  River glanced outside and saw the keep to her right, and the town square stretching out behind her. She saw the dark looming shapes filling the area like a swarm of ants over a picnic. Desperately, she kicked at the door, trying to break it free. It was made of steel, and the lock held. Frustrated, River drew her revolver and shot the lock. It bent inward, so she kicked the door again. Still, it held.

  Through the window, she glimpsed the city well and the water filter sitting at the edge of the square. She recognized the bluish glow of Starfall inside the water filter, and saw that it was fading fast into the distance. She had to act. She had one chance to destroy the Starfall and all the Ancients at once, but that moment was quickly passing.

  River glanced around and realized she had overlooked the most obvious escape. She raised her weapon and fired into one of the train’s windows, averting her eyes as the glass exploded around her. River used the barrel of her revolver to knock the rest of the glass out and then climbed through. The tiny shards that remained in the window frame cut her hands and arms, but she ignored the razor-like slices and forced her way through. With blood streaming from the palms of her hands and down her shoulders, she reached for the framing over the back platform and swung herself around. With a light thud, she landed on the platform. River raised her pistol and aligned the sights on the vial of Starfall a hundred yards back. And it vanished.

  “No,” she said in a half-whisper. The undead creatures had closed in around the well, all but concealing it from her, making it impossible to shoot the vial of Starfall. Even if she could tell where it was, which she couldn’t, she still couldn’t shoot through all those bodies.

  Don’t fail me, Socrates’ voice said in her head. She knew exactly what it meant. They had one chance to do this, and they’d never get another. Despite everything she had done, River had done just that. She had failed.

  “No,” she said again, this time firmer. “It’s not over yet.”

  River crawled on the handrail at the edge of the platform and leapt in the air, catching t
he corner of the roof. She grunted as she heaved herself up, kicking her feet, swaying side to side for a perch. River caught one of the brass bars that lined the roof and pulled herself up and over. She instantly leapt to her feet and raised her pistol. The last railcar had already reached the far castle wall, and the water filter was but a tiny target in the distance.

  She frowned, peering down the sights, trying to catch a glimpse of the bluish glow of Starfall. Through the press of bodies, she saw a flash of light. River squeezed the trigger. She grimaced as a spark glanced off the upper framing of the pump. River steadied herself, took another deep breath, and fired again.

  The second shot missed as well, but she did manage to strike one of the undead creatures in the head. The thing toppled backwards, landing on the body next to it, and they both fell to the ground. In that instant, River saw the familiar glow of the vial, clear as day. She lined up sights and caught her breath, calculating the distance and the arc of the bullet’s flight. She adjusted her aim, twelve inches high and a bit to the left… Then she squeezed the trigger.

  The round struck home with an instant eruption. Bright blue-green light filled the square and expanded out through the town in a shockwave, hurtling bodies into the air and flattening buildings as it rolled outward. The massive inferno of color pushed into the sky, licking at the heavens even as it spread through the town, toppling or destroying everything in its path.

  River lost sight of the explosion for a second as The Iron Horse slid effortlessly through the outer wall and into the forest beyond. Even outside the wall, the shockwave still hit River so hard it knocked her down. She landed on her back and lay there, struggling to catch her breath, watching bits and pieces of burning buildings float through the heavens like fiery stars. As the last light of the explosion faded to a glow in the distance, they began raining down.

  River pushed to her feet and found Thane standing next to her. He caught her by the arm and helped steady her balance. River looked into the bard’s sharp, playful gaze and felt a sudden irrepressible urge to kiss him. She wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was the way that he had saved her with his sling, or perhaps it was the sudden relief she felt and the fact that he just happened to be there… and happened to be quite good looking, at that.

  Then she remembered standing bare-breasted in front of him only a few moments earlier and her passion melted into embarrassment. She pulled away, and gave him an appreciative smile.

  “I have to tell Socrates,” she mumbled, and headed for the nearest roof hatch.

  Chapter 24

  The Great Iron Horse pulled to a complete stop fifty miles outside of Blackstone. In that time, the forest had grown dense and impassable, forcing the Horse to plow through the terrain, clearing a path as it rolled onward. The inhabitants of the city huddled in the railcars, fearful and wondering, unsure as to what might become of them now that their city was gone. For there could be no doubt: Blackstone had been utterly destroyed.

  The forest outside dwindled away to scrub brush and wild grain, and eventually gave way to broad rolling steppes, foreboding but brimming with life. Here, the Wastelands finally succumbed, and the last patchy remnants of snow faded into vast plains of green. Socrates locked the brakes and the Horse rolled to a stop. Over the intercom, he ordered the crew to guide the citizens of Blackstone out of the train so he could address them all in person. An icy cold wind blew across the steppes as they gathered, two hundred families in all. Men tried to console their wives and mothers their children. In hushed voices, they praised Socrates and cursed him all at once.

  “Will he abandon us here to starve and die?” some wondered. “Or will he force us to join his crew and make us into slaves?”

  Ultimately of course, no one knew his mind but Socrates. They watched in silence as he clambered up the front of the locomotive and stood on the narrow brass rail along the burners. He gazed down on them, a strange amalgamation of beast and machine that spoke like a man, and held over them the power of a god. In silence he gazed at them, patient, thoughtful, until at last, he finally spoke:

  “Good people of Blackstone, I stand before you a humble machine, begging your forgiveness. I had no right to invade your world. I had no wish to see your god fall or your Ancients destroyed. My only wish was to rejoin my companions and pursue our quest into the great wilds of the world. Alas, despite the best of intentions, this was not to be.

  “For those of you who did not witness the end, I can assure you that your city has been destroyed. Your homes are gone and the castle of your ancestors lies in ruins. Still, all is not without hope. Should you so wish it, I can return you there and help to rebuild the filter in your well. I can show you how to rebuild Blackstone better than it ever was. But I must warn you, this path will be fraught with difficulty and danger.

  “Alternatively, you are welcome to join my crew. I can carry you to the next city and leave you there if you so choose, or you may find a permanent home aboard the Iron Horse, and join us on our quest for adventure. I leave this decision up to you. We will rest here for one day while you decide.”

  With that, Socrates stepped back onto the locomotive platform and stealthily made his way back into the train. Behind him, voices rose in a clamor.

  The arguing went on for hours. Some were anxious to return to their homes, while others argued that this wasn’t even possible. Some called for Socrates’ head while others countered that if not for him, they’d have been trapped and killed by the Ancients. After all, it was the Keeper who had betrayed them, not Socrates.

  They argued deep into the night, until at last they decided to rest and consider their positions. Tomorrow, they would vote.

  In the end, the people of Blackstone decided to stay with Socrates and his crew. Those few who argued for a return soon realized that they would be alone, and woefully ill-equipped for success. Survival, they realized, was more important. By noon the next day, the Iron Horse was rolling down the tracks toward destinies unknown.

  That evening, River, Kale, and the others assembled in the dining car for a few drinks and a friendly game of cards. River tried bluffing her way through the first hand, but lost her concentration as Shayla settled onto a stool behind Kale and began stroking his hair and tickling his earlobes. It wasn’t the woman’s attention that distracted River so much as the warrior’s reaction. Kale, an incorrigible ladies’ man, actually blushed!

  River wasn’t sure what it was about this that unsettled her so, or what it was about the attractive auburn-haired woman that put her so on edge. She tried to ignore the uneasy churning in the pit of her stomach, but it was futile. She played out of the second hand within minutes, and by the third hand had lost more coinage than she cared to remember.

  “I’m out,” she said as Thane started dealing the next hand of cards. He gave her a gentle smile.

  “Are you sure, sweetness? I would be happy to cover your losses.”

  River felt a moment of elation as she saw Kale arch an eyebrow, and his gaze drifted back and forth between them. Thane’s smile was tempting, as was his offer, but…

  “No, thank you,” she said at last. “I haven’t slept in days. I think I’ll turn in.”

  She saw something in Thane’s smile, a question or perhaps an offer, but she rose from her chair and turned away without a response. Thane was enticing, but River was nowhere near giving in to him. Not yet. Especially not after what had happened on the roof of the train that afternoon. It was bad enough that he had her at a disadvantage; worse still that he’d had to save her. If there was one thing River couldn’t abide, it was helplessness. Especially when she saw it in herself.

  She settled her tab at the bar and left, wandering back through the cars until she happened to bump into Socrates outside the lab. For a machine, he looked strangely tired. The folds of skin around his eyes seemed dark and baggy, and his eyes were slightly bloodshot. River stared at him in surprise.

  “Socrates!” she said. “Sorry, I didn’t realize-”

 
; “No worries,” he said. “I’m on my way to the library for some rest.”

  River leaned forward, frowning as she gazed into his eyes.

  “Socrates, do you sleep?”

  He considered her question a moment. “I suppose you could say that I do. I am an automaton of course, but my internal mechanisms require cooling and maintenance. If I were to run at full speed day and night… well, I’m sure you can imagine.”

  “I can,” River agreed. “In fact, I think it’s happening to me right now.”

  “Indeed. Until tomorrow, then…”

  “Socrates, wait! I… I need to tell you something.”

  He frowned, gazing into her eyes with an almost human expression of concern. “What is it?”

  “I owe you an apology. When I left the other day, against your orders… I had been talking to Burk, and some of the others, and I’m afraid I doubted your judgment. I’m not sure why. I’ve never seen anything in you but genius, but I started to wonder if…”

  “If you could trust a machine?”

  River averted her gaze. “I suppose so, yes. For a while there, I wasn’t sure if you really knew… I wasn’t sure you could feel.”

  “Well, I am a machine. That fact is incontrovertible. Is this going to be a problem for you?”

  “No, of course not! I knew right away that I’d made a mistake. Unfortunately, we were already up to our necks in trouble at that point. But I knew it was a mistake, and I’m sorry.”

  “Say no more. I understand entirely.”

  “So you forgive me?”

  Socrates laughed. It was the first time in days that River had heard the deep rumbling sound that came rolling out of his barrel-sized chest, and she couldn’t help but smile.

  “Go to bed, child,” he said. “Speak no more of this silliness.”