by Mark Lingane
“She’s tall. And thin,” replied Melanie. She gave a half-shrug.
“Is she? She’s not thin all over.”
He grabbed some recycled meat masquerading as food from one of the new industries that had popped up in recent months. The wizened old man, with one tooth missing, gave him a suspicious glare as he handed over the change. Sebastian checked it twice to make sure it was correct.
“Was she like that when you met her?”
“No. She’s grown a lot.” He waved his hand at the height he thought she was now.
“How old is she?”
“Fourteen.”
“She’s taller than me.”
“And thinner.”
“Are you calling me fat?”
“No! You’re all muscly and everything.” He was distracted by a rat running across the cobblestones, possibly escaping from a lab. He threw the remains of his meat after it. “She’s all curvy.”
The deafening hiss from an adjacent chamber forced them undercover briefly while the hot water rained down.
“Yeah, I noticed that, especially for a girl who’s so thin. I think she knows it too. She’s got a real city style, with those fancy clothes. Love the top hat with the feathers, not that I think she’s dressing to impress anyone.” She gave him a sideways glance. “You don’t, you know, like her?”
“She’s all right. A good laugh.” His face was full of earnest thought. “A bit intense, but all the girls I know seem to be a bit intense.”
“When I say like, I mean … like.” She nodded her head toward him in unison with the word. “And because you don’t understand, and because we’re in public, I’ll ignore your comment about us being intense.”
They made their way through an archway into the army training grounds. Solid stone walls lined the courtyard, and heavy scarring was etched deep into the stonework.
“Like? Erg, no way, she’s taller than me.”
“So her curviness doesn’t mean anything to you? That’s interesting, because you know she really …”
At that moment Isaac wandered into the training grounds, in a trance.
“Here comes your zombie,” Melanie said.
Isaac sat down and stared at the opposite wall.
“Hey,” Sebastian said. Isaac stayed in his trance-like state. “We were just talking about Bindi. I reckon she could be a good member for the gang. What do you think?”
Melanie burst out laughing.
“Right, Isaac?” There was a pause. “Isaac?”
“Huh? What?”
“Is everything all right? Your eyes, they’ve gone all …” He waved his hand in front of Isaac’s face.
“Why’s he gone like that?”
They fanned Isaac’s face until he came back to the land of the living.
Eventually Albert turned up with his bag of inventions and deadly traps. The trio eagerly gathered around him to see what he would produce. Sebastian though Albert was like a demented Santa who gave kids something that taught them a lesson rather than a toy they actually wanted.
“Here, Melanie, I’ve made you a special helmet.”
He threw her a strange leather cap. She pulled it on and strapped it under her chin. It covered her right eye. Embedded in the leather over her eye was a thick lens. It magnified everything she looked at. She took a step forward and instantly fell over.
“It might take some getting used to,” Albert said, extending his hand and helping her back up.
The boys helped her suit up into the gun and assorted support equipment designed by Dr. Gatling. Albert connected a small tube from the Gatling mechanism and attached it to the back of the helmet. She felt a rush of air as the helmet inflated slightly.
“Now look at a target and aim the gun,” Albert said.
Melanie followed the instruction and was amazed to see a crosshair appear in the eyepiece hovering over the target. She fired, and a distant pot exploded.
“Were you aiming for that?” Albert asked.
“No.”
“I might need to make some adjustments.”
“It’s really hot. Can you make this leather into a patch or something?”
“Like a pirate?” sniggered Sebastian.
“Yes,” she sneered, “like a pirate.” She curled her lip and gave him a withering look.
She stood back and turned slowly for everyone to inspect, or be tormented. She had the huge gun strapped to her arm, and several blades attached to various parts of her body. Everyone knew she had hidden blades in her boots. Normally she wore long sleeves, which hid further guns, but today she was being rebellious and wore a short-sleeved top favored by the barmaids who served in the tavern. As she moved her arm, the gun-machine supports hissed as gas quickly diffused around the mechanism, making her sound even more ominous.
“With so much stuff on you’re beginning to look like the cyborgs,” Sebastian said.
“That’s a scary thought. But maybe we have to become our enemy to beat them.” She rotated her arm and inspected the newly attached machinery. The dark color felt hot against the light sheen of her skin. “But I suppose the difference is we can take our stuff off. They have to live with their additions forever.”
Isaac leapt up and pointed at her. “That’s going to be your new nickname. Patch!”
“New? What was the old one?” She gave him a sharp look.
“Oh, er, well, when I say new, I mean … I feel faint. I’ve gone blind.” He collapsed dramatically on the floor.
Melanie looked at Sebastian. “Has he been hanging out with the amateur drama group? Because that was truly terrible.”
20
NIKOLA TOOK STOCK of the room. The captains from the various defense sectors were assembled around a large table that dominated the room, awaiting instruction. Melanie was bustled into the room, late as usual but with a big grin on her face.
“Colonel Parker, get things underway,” Nikola barked.
A sharply dressed man, similar in age and build to Nikola, looked up from the maps on the table. “Commander,” he said as he faced his superior, and gave him a broad smile. He clapped his hands, and shouted an attention-grabbing order at the senior soldiers assembled around the table.
The general murmur died down into a respectful silence.
“How did the counterstrike go against the northwest?” Colonel Parker asked the man to his right.
“We ran into them head on. A simple blockade. But on the way we modified the original plan and did a pincer maneuver around each side of their defenses.”
“They knew, again?”
“Yes, but we still beat them.”
Parker went around the table. Two-thirds had been confronted by cyborg packs, and each time the enemy was waiting for them.
“Maybe they have better a strategy than us,” suggested one captain.
“It would balance out,” replied another. “We always beat them in the close-combat, melee skirmishes. Yet they have our measure when it comes to broader strokes.”
“There’s got to be something behind them,” added a third. “You’ve seen them. They’re hardly the sharpest of tactical opponents. They’re slow moving and slow to react. But, with nearly every tactic we try they’re ahead of us. It’s only because of the supreme skill of our officers that we’ve had only minor casualties. We fight along battle lines that fail to move. We might as well lie in muddy trenches being eaten by rats and gangrene. We cannot win a war of attrition.”
Nikola nodded. “What we need is someone new who has a less traditional way of thinking about attack and defense.” He turned to the colonel. “Parker, go through the list of new people to the city. See if we have anyone who might fit the brief.”
Parker nodded and made a note.
“Are we getting any signal from Camooweal?” Nikola looked around at the captains.
Captain Farnham coughed, focusing Nikola’s attention on him. “No, Commander, just static,” he replied in his quiet husky voice. He swept his long blond hair back
over his head. “Most folk out there live in the cave system, so it’s hard to tell one way or another how they’re doing.”
Nikola looked down at a large map. He pointed to the small city of Camooweal. “They’ve got a good supply of water out there. It’s a highly defensible area, which makes it a good point to either attack us, or to defend. The playbook on this is pretty straightforward. Captain Farnham, take a large patrol and secure it. Find out what’s happening in the region.”
Nikola turned to Melanie, who was standing behind him. “Melanie, check out Lake Moondarra. See if you can find some tracks, and see where they lead. Everyone else, you’re on city defense this week. Check in with Captain Barnes. He’ll update you individually.”
The meeting wound down and the captains hustled out.
Nikola motioned to Parker to stay back. “Somehow they’re finding out,” Nikola said.
“You think it would be that obvious? Yes, we find them waiting for us at the spot we hope to surprise them, but they never have enough strength to do any harm.”
“Not yet.”
Nikola looked up at the ceiling. He scanned a suspicious eye around the walls at the height of the picture frames. Great ancient tapestries hung in precise places, deadening the sound and making sure no voices carried outside the room. “Do a sweep. There must be something in this room, some new kind of listening device. Let me know if you find anything. If not, we change the strategy meetings to a different room.”
It was time to shake things up.
21
AS THE WINTER months set in, the nights arrived earlier. One evening a guard from the city watch called at the busy door of Kerry Constantine with instructions to follow him in the dark. She was told to come alone.
Kerry was taken to the administration building, and when she was ushered into the room she removed her omnipresent hat and sat down on a sumptuous chair. The crushed velvet and leather felt wicked under her touch, and caused her to smile. “Are you the mystical Number Two?”
Number Two nodded.
“You’re not what I was expecting, although it doesn’t surprise me. People can easily underestimate based on disguise alone.”
“I need no disguise.”
“We all have a disguise. Who is Number One?”
The seat squeaked and Number Two reclined. “You would be surprised how many times I am asked that.” The cool night air floated in, wafting the drawn curtains. Number Two idly toyed with one, examining the frayed end intently.
“You called me here,” Kerry said.
Number Two focused attention on the overstuffed, undersized lady in the overstuffed, oversized chair. “I thought it appropriate that we have a little talk. The architecture is changing. I see you as an important cog in the city. Perhaps we can discuss some objectives and goals for you.”
She shook her head. “Perhaps I can help you.”
“How can you possibly help me?” Number Two laughed and raised an eyebrow.
“I can tell you the nature of evil. I can tell you how to spot it, and how to dispatch it. Just ask me.”
“Why would I do that?”
Kerry paused and twisted herself deeper into the chair. Tingles rippled devilishly up her body, causing her to swallow. She clasped her hands in her lap. “People need a focus. Without a focus there is unrest. This is your current problem.”
“It’s very considerate and community-minded of you, outlining my problems.”
“We all have our calling.” She gave Number Two a brittle smile.
Number Two ignored it, sweeping it away with a wave of contempt. “That’s all fine and well, but I do want you to do something for me.”
“I don’t do favors.”
“Perhaps ‘want’ was an inaccurate word. This isn’t a favor. You will be richly rewarded.”
“I shall remember your pledge.”
“Give me your ideas for change.”
“We need an enemy.”
“We have the cyborgs.” Number Two waved a hand in the direction of the distant hills in the west.
“We need an enemy everyone thinks they can do something about,” she said.
“You know of such an enemy?”
The walls drew in and the room darkened.
“They already live amongst you.”
There was one final word spoken between Number Two and Kerry: proceed. And so she took her message to the streets.
“We are pure and true, and follow the word of the Lord. We are not digressed from his righteous path …”
A few weeks had passed since the attack and life had returned to normal, although a restless and uneasy normal, in the city. The humidity of summer had fled the plains. More survivors had come, and the walls continued to bulge under the human strain. The crowding was becoming noticeable, and where there is overcrowding and associated poverty there is dissent.
Kerry had a small group surrounding her. Standing on the crate, with her banner flapping gently behind her, she was only a head above the onlookers, but her passion had her soaring above the clouds, ready to strike with the unrepentant wrath of a vengeful and unforgiving god.
The crowd was currently unimpressed. They wanted conflict, not monologue, and possibly the chance of someone being hurt in an amusing way.
Two of the audience members were Nikola and Melanie, who had been drawn to the crowd while on a patrol through the city.
“… the Lord will protect us from these deviants. He will salvage those without sin, and smite all who pollute his flock …”
Melanie leaned over to Nikola. “Who says the Lord is a him? It could be ‘the Lady’ instead.”
“Could a lady be worse than a vengeful lord?” he whispered.
“Looking at Kerry Constantine, the Lady could be ten times worse.”
“Let’s hope she doesn’t gain too much traction.”
“Can’t you shut her down, or throw her out?”
He shook his head.
Someone shushed them from behind. Melanie glowered over her shoulder at the anonymous requester, but was greeted by a sea of expectant but blank faces.
It was disconcerting. For over a year she had been stomping around these city streets, and the faces of the people, whether happy or at the lowest point of gloom, had all displayed life and intelligence. These faces were different, and new. Emptiness lay behind the lazy eyes, a void waiting to be filled with the easiest of solutions sold with the thinnest veneer of accountability.
“But we’re a city of science,” she said. “Where have these religious types suddenly come from?”
“We’ve opened our gates to everyone. We don’t have selection criteria. When you swim in the great sea of humanity you get the flotsam and jetsam of life’s great wreckage. They come, asking for help. We cannot deny them assistance because of their beliefs. Nothing would pull down the walls of science quicker than irrational prejudice.”
“So we let them come into our home and pull it down brick by brick instead?”
“Let’s hope we can guide them,” Nikola said.
“Let’s hope they aren’t thinking the same thing.”
The two glanced at each other.
“What do you make of the banner?” Nikola asked Melanie.
“Ladies’ Union for the Suppression of Carnal Vice? I’d like to see her try to peddle that ideal out under the dams.”
The woman thundered on, “… and when the great beast attacked, the Lord saved us—”
Melanie erupted. “No,” she shouted, “I saved you. I leapt on it and blew its brains out as it came crashing into your holy sanctuary.” She stepped up to Kerry and pointed an accusatory finger at her. “There was no divine intervention, unless you want to say that I am, appropriately enough, a goddess.”
“He saved us by sending you. You are performing the Lord’s bidding, child.”
Melanie’s jaw muscles tightened. “You’re a fool if you think there’ll be a divine intervention to protect you at the last minute.”
“How are we not to know what was going to happen when your interference corrupted the Lord’s work?”
“Fine, whatever. Cause and effect. Save yourself next time.” Melanie turned her back on the woman.
“I’m not the one that needs to be saved. There’s no proof that this creature, slain by you, was even going to cause us harm. It may have been sent by the Lord to protect us from those amongst us who claim to have powers.”
“I … wait, do you mean teslas?”
“Don’t speak that foul name before me, innocent child. They bring the darkness and I have seen it with my own eyes. Maybe we’ve been too hasty with the cyborgs.”
“Obviously you’ve never met any.”
“Dear child, I have been face to face with them and they have not been as malevolent as you claim. Merely misunderstood. We must turn the other cheek and forgive them.” Kerry smiled at the people. “Is this not what the Lord taught us?”
“Are you mad?” Melanie said. “If we don’t fight back, they will, without any doubt or uncertainty, kill us. You don’t know. You weren’t here to face the death.”
“But times move on. Don’t they tell us that? Isn’t it time to see if the cyborgs are open to discussion? Even if it only saves one life, isn’t it worth it?”
“It depends on whose life it is,” Melanie concluded. She turned and stormed off, with Nikola in hot pursuit.
“Calm down, Melanie.”
“Did you hear her? She’s a dangerous woman, twisting the truth and forming her own reality. How could she say that about the teslas? That’s hugely worrying.”
“Let’s sleep on it. I’m sure things will be better in the morning.” Concern flashed across his face. Control of the city was rapidly slipping away.
22
NIKOLA WOKE TO the sound of construction commencing on the tesla tower outside his quarters. His last conversation with Number Two had kept him awake half the night, preying on his mind, so he sat at his desk drinking coffee until the day had made some kind of sense.
