by Mark Lingane
“Hey!” Nikola shouted.
The beast turned to face the cannon leveled at its head. Nikola kicked the flint on the cannon. The cannonball roared out and hit the beast squarely in the face. It screamed as the molten ball sliced into its eye and disappeared into the depths of its head. It flailed and collapsed to the ground.
The cannon, under the force of the explosion, snapped back against the ropes, severing them and dislodging Nikola.
He reached frantically for the ropes, clutching at the frayed ends. He grabbed one but it slipped out of his hand, and he crashed into the window of a building. He bounced back from the window frame with shattered glass falling after him. He plummeted through an awning on the second floor of the building, which slowed him enough so he could hold onto the material, which ripped and dropped him straight through to the first-floor awning. It buckled and ripped, but it slowed his descent enough that he crashed into the ground without killing himself. He groaned and rolled over onto his back.
Melanie was looking down at him. “Not bad for an old man.”
“Not bad for a fat girl.”
“I am not fat!” She kicked him.
“I am not old. And you’re out of breath.”
“So are you.”
“We seem to be at an impasse. Either that or we’re both in denial.”
Nikola staggered to his feet and turned to face the young lady. He opened his mouth just as a dark shadow flitted overhead. Both snapped their heads back to look up. Their spirits sagged as a dragon came flying in low over the Academy. They watched it glide toward the center of the city and their eyes fell upon Sebastian, who was standing on top of the remains of the old tesla tower with his arms outstretched.
“Is he doing what I think he’s doing?” Melanie said.
“I hope not. It’ll be worse than the dragon.”
“It’s a big one.”
They looked at each other and sighed. “Ready?” they said simultaneously.
The dragon expelled a fireball that rolled over the tops of the buildings, causing them to catch on fire. A few exploded. There was a roar from behind Nikola as a beast stormed toward them. The dragon hovered over the administration tower and a skynet of cyborgs abseiled from the great flapping beast onto the top of the building. The momentum of the battle began to swing back toward the enemy. Small groups of soldiers had been split and forced back into defensive positions.
Then came the thud-thud-thud of salvation.
13
LOPING ACROSS THE plains came the great war machine, a towering mechanical beast from a bygone era. Constructed with cogs and pistons, it was controlled by a technology no longer understood. It had been abandoned, but the technology had called out to Sebastian, allowing him to resuscitate the creature when the city was at its most vulnerable.
“Rex,” whispered Sebastian. Their electromagnetic connection from their first meeting was still strong, and allowed him to sense that the creature’s power was low. Sebastian had called the beast from its unknown walkabout and it had returned like a true friend.
He could feel the power stored in the vast battery chambers under the city. He gathered the power, pulled it up and shot it off to the lumbering machine. The war machine roared as it felt its own batteries fill. Its pace increased and it charged up to the city gates. It walked through the ruined gates and stood in the center of the piazza, dwarfing all around.
The cyborgs had disappeared into the administration building and the dragon took its moment to leave. It swooped down low to the ground, picking up pace so it could launch itself high into the air. It flew in low over the buildings, breathing out blasts of flame. It shot over the city wall and took off for the skies, just as a great forearm crashed down on it. The war machine crushed the dragon’s metal frame into the sand until the light in its eyes died.
The machine stood proud, roaring above the city rooftops.
Sebastian lowered his arm and the machine followed his action.
It turned toward the beasts. One ran straight into its hand, which was controlled by the machine’s powerful motors. It crushed the beast’s head instantly. The machine surveyed the destruction of the immediate area and located the two nearest beasts. In one easy movement it picked up one in each hand and smashed them together. Blood splattered out over the nearby guards. The two beasts fell to the ground, dead.
Then Sebastian felt it, something in his head, fighting against his thoughts.
Nikola shouted. “Men, cyborgs in the administration building, on the sixth floor. Get them out at all costs.”
The nearest men charged off in the direction of the administration building and within seconds they had disappeared through the large oak door.
The world went dark and Sebastian sank into a bottomless well. His head lolled to the side, his mind empty.
There were thoughts. But not his.
Instructions from somewhere were flying through him, using his head as a conduit. He followed the instructions and saw them fly toward Rex. Then the thoughts let go and flew around him, no longer needing him to complete their task. He felt control returning to his mind, and he fought to regain consciousness.
The world faded back into the light and he sent his own commands to Rex.
He felt the clash of contradicting commands in the workings of the war machine. He could feel the motors grinding in one direction and then jamming as they tried to reverse. He felt his mind weakening, losing the battle, losing the light.
Nikola ran up the stairs of the tesla tower with Melanie a few steps behind. They burst onto the top deck.
Sebastian was standing on the edge of the deck surrounded by construction rubble. His head had slumped forward. Nikola shouted at him. Sebastian turned. His face was twisted in pain. He collapsed onto the wooden floorboards and rolled over the edge.
Melanie screamed. Nikola dived forward. His hand wrapped around the tumbling boy’s arm. The two clung together, with an unconscious Sebastian hanging limply from Nikola’s clutches. He heaved the boy upward and they both collapsed onto the deck. Nikola sat up and cradled Sebastian’s head in his lap.
Sebastian stirred, opened his eyes and looked up into the concerned faces of Nikola and Melanie.
“Sebastian, tell me what’s happening with that war machine of yours,” Nikola said.
“Nothing. My connection has gone,” he whispered.
They all turned and watched in horror as the war machine stuttered to a halt. It twitched one final time and collapsed on one side, crashing heavily into the sand. The shockwave was felt throughout the city. A mini sandstorm erupted and flew skywards, eventually settling onto the still form that was crumpled in a heap of disillusionment and desperation, covering it in a tomb of neglect and regret.
A quiet wave of astonishment and disbelief rolled over the soldiers, temporarily paralyzed by the event.
“That is a lot worse than people think it is,” murmured Nikola. He sighed.
Horrific screams were coming from the administration tower, followed by the almost reptilian sound of slithering and crunching gristle.
Melanie turned toward the odd sounds. “Nikola, what’s on the top floor?”
“The engine.”
She gave him a quick quizzical glance before returning her focus to the top floor of the administration building. “To what?”
“Everything,” he replied. He mopped Sebastian’s brow as the boy faded in and out of consciousness.
“That’s a bit vague.”
He sighed. “The engine does many things—and only one thing. It balances”—he searched for the right word—“life.”
“Is it bad that cys are in there?”
“More than you can possibly know. But they won’t survive the defenses.”
“Something’s happened.” She glanced down at the fallen war machine.
Nikola nodded. “The cyborgs will have sacrificed one of their men to do it. Then the defenses would have ripped them apart. That noise was the sound of the cyb
orgs dying, horribly and painfully.”
They both looked at Sebastian. Melanie reached out and held his hand. There was a loud screech from the piazza, followed by the sound of rubble being crushed. Nikola and Melanie looked up.
“That last beast is getting away,” Melanie said, pointing toward the ruined gates.
“All right, there’s no need to draw this out,” Nikola said.
He stood up, scanned the ground and located a fallen soldier. He kicked a rope over the edge of the decking and tied the end onto a pillar. He rappelled down, and picked up a pistol and the biggest sword he could find.
“Will Sebastian be okay if we leave him?” Melanie shouted after him. There was a muffled reply, which she took to be “Yes.” She followed closely behind Nikola down the rope.
They picked up their pace and ran after the escaping beast. They quickly gained on the loping beast.
“Give me a leg up,” Melanie shouted.
Nikola twisted and clasped his hands together into a stirrup. Melanie jumped into his hands and he thrust her into the air. She landed on the back of the creature, which started to thrash wildly in an attempt to dislodge her. She pulled out a dagger and drove it between the scales that formed its armor. The viscous gel underlying the scales diffused the thrust, so she abandoned the dagger and crawled up toward its head.
Nikola took out his sword. His first strike bounced harmlessly off the scales. The second he speared up into the plates around its knee. He managed to slide it in and he heaved on the sword until his muscles ached. The scales separated and he drove the sword deep into the knee of the beast. It collapsed to the side, and Melanie positioned herself on its shoulder. As it fell she unloaded the contents of her pistol into the creature’s eye. It writhed uncontrollably on the ground, throwing Melanie clear. Nikola thrust his sword deep into its head, pushing until it stopped thrashing.
Melanie picked herself up off the ground.
Nikola extracted the sword and thrust it into the ground. It stood there quivering.
“Do you think we should cut its head off and stick it on a pole in front of the gates?” she said.
“That would be an uncivilized thing to do. What kind of message would that send about us?”
“It would say ‘Don’t attack us or we’ll chop your head off and stick it on a pole.’ And that might make some of these beasts stop and think. Even the male invaders.”
Nikola sat down on the ground. Sweat was pouring off them both. Melanie lay down next to him and looked up at the sky, relaxing, giving her muscles a chance to recover.
“We’re not a bad team, you know,” she said. “Me with my athletic prowess, supreme intelligence, deadly accuracy and fantastic looks, and you with … whatever it is you do.”
Nikola smiled at her and kicked the sword so it started to vibrate again. “It’s funny how it’s the old weapons that are the most reliable and destructive.”
“Is that a metaphor?”
“No. It’s a simile.”
She gave him a blank look. “Isn’t it a simile if you use ‘like’?”
“I thought you youngsters said ‘like’ every other word.”
She gave him a withering sneer. “You’re so funny.” She sat up and surveyed the devastation around them. She let out a long sigh. “On reflection, that wasn’t the worst we’ve faced.”
“What if that was only a trial?” Nikola said. “What if there are more? What if they arm them?”
“Arm them? What on earth would they arm them with? They’re beasts.”
“They’re more than that. There’s some intelligence bred in there.” He leaned forward and went quiet. His white hair flopped down over his face, weighed down by excessive perspiration. “That may not be our most pressing question. What will we arm ourselves with? I’m going to talk to Albert. You go look after Sebastian.”
Nikola stood up and strode off to find Albert, leaving a stunned Melanie sitting in the dust.
14
“THEY LEFT ME on the top of the observation deck all alone,” Isaac whined.
The wind had picked up as the day drifted on and he had joined Melanie on the tesla deck where she was looking after Sebastian. Spirits were high after the victory. Melanie was enjoying the moments of peace in between Isaac's complaints.
“And those things went past me, and they were this close,” he said, the ends of his thumb and forefinger two inches apart. “I was there all alone, cold and hungry. I didn’t even have my owl.” He made a grand, dramatic gesture meant to illustrate his owl, the treasured automaton constructed by Albert, the city’s genius physicist. After their last adventure, the owl’s “useful” settings had reduced from five to one, and it had flapped manically and irrevocably into the ground.
“My heart bleeds for you. It must have been a taxing ordeal, being out of the way and completely safe.”
“There was running and screaming, and crying. Hope had withered away until all that remained was surrender.” He held the back of his hand to his forehead and looked forlornly into the middle distance.
“You should have held yourself together. Anyway, the captain was there.”
Melanie sat next to the prone form of Sebastian, alternating her view between him and the desert plain. She tried to reduce Isaac’s litany of grievous wrongdoing to a background hum. She was leaning against the brickwork of the remaining tesla tower. Reconstruction on the tower had proceeded at a brisk pace over the past year, as it was the city’s major defense against the cyborgs. The surviving blackened brickwork remained; a battle scar, proudly declaring its resilience against the enemy.
“For about two minutes,” Isaac said. “So I was standing there all by myself.”
“With your cape?”
“Well, of course. No, wait, it got ripped off by one of those things.”
“Sullivans?”
“So that’s what a sullivan is. Anyway, I had to fashion a new cape out of some old material I found lying around.” He waved his hand vaguely toward the deck. “Luckily I had my sewing kit with me. It takes total skill to be as resourceful as I am. It's a pity there's no one around to recognize my awesomeness.” He clicked his fingernails together and watched them closely, waiting for the expected accolades.
“Gavin!” Melanie’s head snapped up in recollection of Gavin’s absence and the trigger of the word “awesome.” She looked down at Sebastian and felt his brow. He was still feverish. “I have to get word to Gavin to say I’m okay. He’ll be worried.”
She turned to Isaac. “Go tell him that I’m completely okay and miss his lovey-doveyness and can’t wait to squishy him—what’s the matter? You look ill.”
“No way. Not in a million years am I going to say that.” He crossed his arms in defiance.
She glared at him until he started to look sheepish and uncomfortable.
“And give him a big hug and a kiss from me.”
“!”
“You look pale.”
“You don’t actually talk to each other like that, do you?” He pulled a face of disgust.
A distant and dreamy look wafted over her face as she fantasized about her boyfriend, Gavin, who was head student at the tesla school. Isaac recognized it. Underneath all that violence and swearing she was still soft. Since she’d turned seventeen there had been a slight shift in her moods. For one, she wasn’t as moody, except in certain situations. And when there was a baby nearby she no longer wanted to stab it; she would hold it for seconds before handing it back and then wanting to stab it. And there were the sudden, inexplicable outbursts …
“You’re not going to sing, are you?”
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
“Because I’d like to remind you about what happened last time. And Sebastian isn’t well. He might not be able to take the strain.”
“Fine! Find Gavin for me. Do it or I’ll tell Sebastian about your sewing kit.”
There was a moment of silence until Isaac relented. “Oh, all right.”
> She watched him go and laid back to enjoy the sun. It wasn’t long before the heat began to get to her. With her usual deadly accuracy, she swatted away the occasional fly when swearing failed to inflict a sufficient amount of damage. After a few minutes she sighed and stood up. Then she knelt down and wriggled her arms under Sebastian’s body. She tensed and tried to lift him.
“Oof, you’re getting heavy, boy.” Her legs strained under his weight and she had to give up. It had been a long day. She settled him back down.
It was quiet up on the deck. Commotion and general positive hubbub buzzed below. They had had a victory, without the usual heavy cost. There was always a cost, and she wondered what happened when it became too great. It was either pay the cost or accept oblivion. What a future to look forward to. It was an odd thought for her, having a future to prepare for now that the doctor had spoken that word: remission. She hoped it was a peaceful one.
The sun moved overhead and, eventually, Sebastian regained consciousness. He sat up slowly.
“Have some water.” She offered him the remains of her water flask. He drank some and offered it in return. She pushed it away. “Finish it, you look pretty bad.”
He laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“We were once in this position before, except the other way around.”
“Good times. Good times.”
There was a thoughtful pause as Melanie looked out over the distant hills. The wind blew her hair back, revealing her defined features. She was rapidly leaving her teenage appearance behind as approaching adulthood and too many battles for one so young stole what remained of her youth.
“Maybe not,” she said. “Dying in a damp cave on your own isn’t as much fun as it sounds.” She reflected on the impossible trajectory their lives had catapulted down in the brief two years since Sebastian had found her huddled in the cave, abandoned by her family. She had wanted nothing more than to die a quick, albeit lonely, death from a disease no one understood. He had found her, dragged her out, and healed her.
