by Mark Lingane
“She’s gone soft anyway,” Sebastian said. “All she ever talks about at night is Gavin. It’s getting really boring. She’s probably sitting by the river right now making daisy chains.”
… Melanie, with her face smeared with blood and grease and her hair flowing behind her, charged forward into the cyborg pack, roaring as she fired both pistols. Smoke billowed over her and the cyborgs fell like skittle pins …
Isaac nodded. “Soft. Maybe it’s just a phase she’s going through. Something’ll happen and she’ll come back and join the gang.”
“The gang being you and me.” Sebastian rolled over onto his back and gazed up at the sky. His tunic crumpled against the rock.
“Yup.”
Sebastian sighed. “It’s not much of a gang, more like a couple of outcasts.”
“Speak for yourself. I’ve got heaps of friends.”
“Imaginary ones don’t count.” Sebastian rolled back onto his front. His clothes were completely covered with dust. “Your turn.”
Isaac sighted along the barrel, took a deep breath, and paused. He looked over at Sebastian, who was staring intently through the binoculars at the target, willing Isaac to miss.
“I can feel a breeze,” Isaac said. ‘It’s like a breeze in my head.”
2
SEBASTIAN SAT UP abruptly. “You can sense it too? Good, you’re improving. Can you tell the direction of the electromagnetic field?”
“Is it over to the left?” Isaac pointed vaguely to the horizon.
“Not bad, can you tell the number?”
Isaac shook his head.
“There are about three marching across, just behind the outcrop, moving to the north. They’re going slowly.”
“What should we do?”
Sebastian shrugged. “I doubt they know we’re here. We could let them go, like we’ve been told, and keep safe. Or we could risk certain death and land in so much trouble we could wash our hair in it.”
The two looked at each other. The answer didn’t need to be voiced. It had been a tough year, with everyone having to be more responsible and sensible in the wake of the cyborg attacks.
They made their way down from the outcrop’s peak to a hidden pocket where they could get a clearer view out over the plains. Sebastian raised the binoculars and peered around a large boulder. The images danced around in his vision until he could focus in on his target. Black shapes flashed past, and he swept the binoculars back and forth until he found them again. He pulled focus and the image clarified into cyborgs marching through the sands, slowed by the softness of the light grains.
“Three targets confirmed, about two hundred yards away,” he hissed.
“How close can we get before they see us?”
“Dunno. Maybe a hundred yards. Those new devices they’ve got are more sensitive to hostile targets surrounding them. It’s a true fact.” He nodded in agreement with himself. “Of course there could be a dragon way above us that’s already told them where we are.”
“Dragon!” Isaac’s gaze shot upwards.
“Don’t panic. You’d see the shadow first. Then you’d die.”
“You’re full of optimism.”
“Just being a realist.” He turned to face Isaac and leaned against the immense rock behind them.
“Do we take the bikes?” Isaac said.
“They’d hear us coming a mile away on those. Best way is to run.”
“Even on stealth?”
“An excellent idea, with only two minor problems.” Sebastian held up his first finger. “One, the bikes have no stealth.” He held up his second finger. “And two, the bikes have no stealth. I realize that technically it’s the same problem repeated, but it’s so significant I thought I’d mention it twice.”
“You’re so funny.” Isaac gave him a sneer. “Anyway, I’ve heard that before. Ace says it all the time. So, do we have some kind of invisibility cloak we can use to mask our approach?”
Sebastian gave him a look of disbelief.
“No? How about some special device that allows us to control time. Slow it down so we get there in half a second.”
Sebastian gave him a look of disbelief.
“So what do we do?”
“We run fast,” Sebastian replied.
Isaac groaned. “I hate running.”
“Me, too. We wait for them to go past then come in from behind.”
“Yeah, I can’t see them expecting that.” Isaac rolled his eyes. “You know, when it comes to planning you definitely fall into the less-is-more category.”
“You might want to tie up that stupid cape.”
Isaac clutched at his cape. “No way. It looks totally cool when I’m on the bike.”
Sebastian turned around and got ready to move. “Yeah, as long as it doesn’t get caught up in the back wheel.”
They crept around to the other side of the outcrop and watched the black-clad cyborgs move past.
“Ready?” Sebastian said.
“You know this is insane.”
“Just run as fast as you can. When they turn, drop and fire.”
They prepared their water rifles, took a couple of deep breaths to steady their nerves and sprinted over the sands in the direction of the skynet of cyborgs. Sebastian soon surged ahead of Isaac. His legs stretched out and he sprang across the hot sands with gazelle-like strides. The skynet marched on, oblivious to the approach and impending attack.
They were within one hundred yards of the cyborgs when the familiar alarm went off. As one unit, the three cyborgs turned in their direction.
“Down!” shouted Sebastian.
They dropped onto their stomachs, launching a wave of sand forward. They targeted and fired. Both missed.
Isaac aimed and took another shot, directly impacting one cyborg hand holding a control device. Instantly, the cyborg froze. The other two fired back in response. The beams came in low, narrowly missing both boys as they rolled desperately out of the way.
Sebastian leapt up and tried to move closer, running in a zigzag pattern.
Isaac took another shot but missed.
Both remaining cyborgs turned to face Sebastian. He shuddered to a halt then let loose an electromagnetic wave. He was worried that he wasn’t close enough, but to his surprise the wave was powerful enough to cause a ripple in the sand in front of him that blasted into the cyborgs.
The cyborgs stood motionless, their electronic systems disabled.
Both boys remained still, waiting for the dust to settle, watching to confirm that the cyborgs were inert.
After what felt like an eternity, Sebastian exhaled. “I think we’re okay,” he shouted, waving Isaac forward.
“I’m glad it went as planned,” shouted Isaac.
Sebastian jogged toward the skynet. “Let’s check them out.”
Isaac ran up to him, breathing heavily. “You’re getting pretty fast at running. Not as fast as me, of course. But fast anyway.”
Sebastian could never gauge how long cyborgs would remain like this. Usually they would work out that they needed to return to base, and perhaps fire at anything they didn’t recognize, but the time they took to do this was different for each group.
Sebastian and Isaac ducked around the stationary forms, more abstract works of art than unrelenting death machines.
“When you’re this close to them they almost look human.” Isaac stood a few inches away from one cyborg, letting his eyes rove over the semi-familiar features. “He could be an ordinary person with bits of metal stuck in him. If I pushed him, would he fall over?”
On the arm of the cyborg, lights flickered. The constant green glow that outlined the more recent cyborgs’ black armor turned red. The cyborg twitched and quickly raised his arm.
Turning away at that moment, Isaac caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. Before he could understand what he was doing, he felt a wave roll out from his mind. The cyborg froze momentarily.
Sebastian wheeled around and unleashed a wave s
o powerful the cyborg staggered back, collapsing to the ground. Blue lightning arced over the body and it went limp.
“There’s a lot I don’t like about what just happened,” Sebastian said.
“He came back on line quicker than the others, that’s all.”
“No, he restarted himself. His device found a way to combat the water attack. I don’t like that at all.”
“Neither do I. It took me ages to make those rifles. And it cost me my eyebrows.”
Suddenly a loud wailing erupted from their wrists.
Isaac sighed. “Oh, great, I didn’t realize we were so close to the perimeter.”
They sat down heavily in the sand and waited for security to arrive.
3
NIKOLA STRODE OVER the cobblestones to the low stone building, strategically placed in the town center opposite the administration tower. Both buildings faced onto the city square, home to the mighty statue of Joshua Richards, founder of the Steam Academy. The statue cast a long shadow over the stones, which reached the door of the low building.
Nikola blinked as the shadow slipped briefly over his face, to be replaced by the dazzling brightness of the sun. Bright spots appeared in his eyes, floating in small circles, and he rested against the stone wall. Sweat formed on his brow. He extracted a handkerchief and tapped it around his face to absorb the moisture. His dark uniform soaked up the heat like a sponge. The brass trimming around the hem was hot to the touch.
He took a deep breath and ran his hands over the series of decorative cogs displayed next to the door, pressing a disguised button that allowed him to push through the doors into the cool dark inside.
Down in the darkness, dark deeds were being done.
Nikola’s face was blank as he took one of the gas lamps and clambered down the narrow, slippery staircase.
The temperature difference between the outside and inside kept condensation on the walls, which were covered in a slimy, dark green-gray fungus. Normally the walls were scraped clean once a year, but because of the current contents of the building no one other than the important three had been allowed into the interior. Moss had begun to grow over the steps.
Nikola felt like he was crawling down the throat of some terrible creature.
At the base of the stairs was a T-junction. Both passages led off to the mighty hydro-electricity generators that used the underground river to power the city’s defenses.
He glanced down each passageway then at the wall straight ahead. He tapped a series of beats on the rock, then counted under his breath, then repeated the sequence in reverse. The distant sound of metal banging against stone echoed, and then came the sound of both grinding together. The stones rolled away revealing a long, dark corridor. He raised the lantern and gazed into the darkness.
The emptiness of the passage ahead sucked all noise inside, and only a tight ring of eerie light illuminated the immediate ground in front of him. Occasional wisps of light, hot breeze blew past him, much like the breath of a sleeping monster, carrying the stench of decay.
He made his way along the passage until the light from the lantern was suddenly drawn away. A void opened up ahead of him and he was left with the lantern, which illuminated nothing but his own quiet form. He waited until his eyes adjusted to the subterranean gloom.
There was a golden glow so soft it melted into the background, barely illuminating the hunched figure in the chair in front of Nikola. The man was looking at something off in the darkness. Something in the darkness looked back.
As Nikola entered the cave, the hunched figure furtively watched his approach. The eyes were dark.
“Nikola, you look pale. I hope everything is all right.” The voice was dry and hollow, almost unrecognizable.
“I’m fine, although it amazes me how you see anything in this gloom.” Nikola placed the lantern in an alcove hollowed out of the rock on one side of the entrance and pulled a rusty lever. He wiped the flecks of old metal off his hand onto his tunic, and made his way over to the figure.
“Your eyes become accustomed to the darkness,” the figure mumbled.
The cave became bathed in a soft glow as the lighting system flared up. Various lamps secured into the walls and connected by a complex series of pipes brightened, and the glow slowly spread and filled the cave with light.
The man quickly slapped his hand over his eyes.
“Oliver, have you been here all night again?” Nikola sighed and waited until the teacher’s vision slowly acclimatized to the brightness.
Oliver looked unshaven and dirty. His normally well-manicured fingernails were black and bruised like he had been digging. His hair was greasy and fell forward onto his face, partially hiding his dark, heavy eyes. He turned once again and looked into the darkness.
Nikola could now see the creature chained to the wall. “Tell me something,” he said.
“They are intriguing,” Oliver said.
“They are dangerous. Don’t forget what they’ve done. Tell me something that will allow us to kill them.” He noticed that his voice had risen. He calmed himself.
“It would be remiss not to mention that they had their reasons,” Oliver said. “That we have learned.”
“We’re not after coexistence, redemption, or any higher ambition. They had their chance for those philosophical attainments when we held out our hand before. They live for war and death. They breathe deceit and distraction.”
Nikola took a moment to quell a cough before deciding to curb his anger. He refocused on the reason for his visit. He pointed into the dark and glared at the sinister shadows.
“Find out what you can and then dispose of it. I have enough troubles dealing with these petty attacks. It concerns me that they have someone on the inside who gnaws away at our defenses like some deranged rat.”
“I take it your idea for the trap didn't work.”
Nikola sighed. “No. They wandered in knowing we would be there, waiting, and still they came, as brazen as the daylight. The sabotage, like all the others, was only minor, but this costs us and delays our plans. It humiliates us and makes us look incompetent in the eyes of the people. It also makes me wonder what their potential is, and if they can do serious harm. We have a traitor. We must find whoever it is and deal with them.” He sighed and looked forlorn. “I lost a good young man. It’s the first time the traitor has killed. It concerns me deeply.”
“It’s obvious it was a trap.”
“Yes, yet the perpetrator still went ahead.” Nikola shook his head. “Why?”
“Maybe to show they were not afraid.”
“They knew we were waiting yet they chose to dance around us, flaunting their ability and our weakness.”
“I wouldn’t necessarily describe it that way.” Oliver took his eyes off the captive and stared at Nikola. “That's why we need this man. He’ll eventually crack and tell us what we need to know.”
“Time’s running out. I’ve spoken to Number Two. If you have nothing by the end of the week then we kill it.”
“It’s a him.”
“It has killed many of our people. Their kind nearly obliterated us from the surface of the planet. The cost of interacting with them has been great.”
Oliver turned away from Nikola and again focused his attention on the figure, which was nothing more than a silhouette. “It takes time,” he said. “They speak a different and complex dialect that’s difficult to unravel.”
The dark figure murmured.
Nikola nodded toward the figure. “That’s why we have you on it, Oliver. You’ve traveled. You should have an ear for languages and dialects.”
“This is far more difficult. They use similar words but they have different meanings. The information is there but it’s a garbled code. I need more time.”
“I’ll speak with Number Two, but don’t expect a reprieve. Get me a result. I’m relying on you.”
Nikola turned away and mopped his brow. Even in the cool air he was sweating. He made his way back up the stai
rs, supporting himself against the slimy walls.
Once out of the building he walked awkwardly across the square back to his office. He struggled up the narrow corridor, resting frequently to recover his breath, until he managed to round the staircase to his landing. He collapsed against the doorframe as he fumbled to extract his keys. They slipped from his grasp and tumbled toward the floor.
A familiar hand appeared from behind him and caught the keys just as they touched the stone floor.
“Number Two?” Nikola whispered.
Number Two helped Nikola stand upright and led him into his office, then laid him down on the long sofa and took down a bottle from one of the many identical shelves. Nikola struggled with the lid, his weak hands trembling, before he managed to open it and pour some into his mouth. He closed his eyes and placed the lid back on the bottle. His arm relaxed to the floor and the bottle rolled out of his hand onto the rug.
Number Two bent over, picked up the bottle and placed it back on the shelf. “You need to spend less time with the boy or you’ll die like the others.”
Nikola nodded.
“The city needs you,” Number Two said.
Nikola was unconscious. Number Two raised one of his eyelids. Nikola didn’t flinch. His brow was soaked in sweat and there was an urgent rumbling sound coming from his stomach. Number Two wiped the unconscious man’s brow, placed a large bucket next to the sofa, turned and locked the door. The waiting would start.
Number Two needed Nikola more than anyone else in the city. People listened to him. They were afraid and in awe of his commanding presence. They needed someone like Nikola to keep the city in line at a time of war.
4
THE SECURITY DETAIL collected the boys, hitched the steambikes to the back of the steam utility vehicle and pulled them all the way back to the city. They were solid men from New Toowoomba, which had recently fallen to the cyborgs, and were in a foul mood all of the time. Doubly so when their time was being wasted by a couple of young idiots who couldn’t understand the simple command of “Don’t go too far away.”
