by Mark Lingane
“No!” he screams.
He runs after her and leaps through the fragmented glass. He lands heavily next to her body. His legs crack under the force of the fall, and he collapses into the snow, crippled. Lying on the ground, his legs shattered, he reaches out to Acacia.
Blood trickles from her mouth onto the fiercely white snow. She stares straight ahead, unable to breathe, unable to move, unable to …
“Let me go,” she whispers.
The Master looked up at the great beasts towering above him. They screamed, roaring an arc of flame into the air. The ingenuity of those foreigners amazed him. He’d never thought of such dark things as these. Even Niels’ evil genius had never sunk this low, even when he had been evil, before poetry had taken its toll on him.
“Wipe him out,” he screamed. “Obliterate all before you.”
He turned to be confronted by the hunched man.
“Master, what’s your instruction?”
“Muster the troops. Ready the weapons. Send forth the beasts of war.”
“Yes, sir.”
He turned and sat in his oversized chair of iron and rock, staring down into the fires below. The flames from the furnaces reflected off the surface of his helmet. He turned to watch the beasts take to the skies and soar into the darkening western skies.
“So it begins, the Third Age.”
Urgent. All western and southern divisions. Urgent. CODE RED. The eastern dominion has declared hostile intentions on all factions in the west. Infiltrators have uncovered a cowardly plan by the Master to unsettle peaceful times earned after the great sacrifices of the Accession Wars. The Peacemaker states it is time to put an end to this madman and his alleged weapons of mass destruction.
73
SEBASTIAN WOKE IN a brightly lit room.
“He’s awake,” someone shouted.
A face appeared before his with a mask covering the mouth and a large magnifying glass over one eye. “He’s not dead. Stitch it and get him out.”
There was a blow to his head and all went black.
Sebastian woke in a dark room. He lay on a filthy cot. He reached out with his right hand and felt the cold stone wall. The room was bitterly cold. A thin hessian blanket had been thrown over him. His head and shoulder ached. He reached around to his left arm, and his heart tore apart as he realized it was gone. He rolled over onto his side and wept.
And the days wore on as he lay in the cell. Light came through occasionally, but never for long. The temperature started to drop. He heard the muttering of the guards.
“… then she tells me she wants her mother to move in, as if we had the space, and so I said to her …”
“Look, he’s awake.”
“Give him a kicking.”
The guards entered and battered him until he fell into unconsciousness.
“So you were saying about the mother-in-law …”
And the days wore on as he lay in the cell. Dim light came through occasionally, but never for long, and the temperature continued to drop. He heard the muttering of the guards.
“… the memo said they’re increasing the coffee allowance to a quarter of a pound a month.”
“Wasn’t it a third before?”
“No. You can’t go up from a third to a quarter. Idiot.”
“Oh, yeah. I must’ve misheard.”
“The news is never wrong on these things. Look, he’s awake.”
“No. He’s just rolling over.”
“Onto what?” They both laughed.
Sebastian lay staring at the wall, tears flowing, as the guards flailed into him until they were exhausted.
“Those earthquakes in New York are getting worse.”
“I heard. Where are you heading for your vacation? I’m thinking of …”
The cell door slammed shut.
And the days wore on as he lay in the cell. Sebastian stood up. Dirt and hay fell off him. The small grate in the door opened. The tiny daily allotment of food appeared. He took it, and the grate closed.
He was starving and his throat burned. When he had eaten, he staggered to the door and fell against it. He pounded on the door until the grate reopened.
“I have something to confess,” he whispered.
“This should be good,” said one of the guards. He stepped up to the door. “What’ve you got to confess in your sad little life?”
Sebastian’s hand shot through the small opening and grabbed the guard by the throat. The guard’s eyes bulged. Sebastian pulled as hard as he could and the guard’s head smashed into the door. The guard staggered backward. Sebastian heard the sound of another guard chortling.
“He’s got a really tough grip,” said the first guard, furiously rubbing his throat.
“He’s only got one now, so it has to be good.”
The first guard looked through the opening. “You’re going to pay for that.”
They took up their clubs, unlocked the door and entered the cell. They closed the door and locked it.
And the days wore on as he lay in the cell. The days grew shorter; the small patch of sky he could see through the tiny window was always gray. The beatings had become daily. He didn’t mind, as the guards were weak men. The abusive comments hurt more. He looked at the nails in the wall and wondered how many he would need to make a knife so he could cut his own throat. He focused on them distractedly, but he didn’t have the willpower to pull them out.
And the days wore on as he lay in the cell. There was a commotion from the other side of the door and the keys rattled. He rolled into a ball to protect himself from the onslaught. A boot scuffed and he shivered with fear.
There was a strangling noise, followed by a whack, then a heavy thud next to him. Then a second thud. Dust from the floor rose up around him, making him cough and his lungs burn. He hazarded a fleeting look before the guards got in a kick at his head. A pair of unfamiliar boots was beside him. The boots were doing nothing. He glanced at them again. The boots flexed, and knees landed next to him. A hand landed on his shoulder and he flinched. But there was no pain. There was no anger, only gentleness.
“It’s all right,” a familiar voice said.
He slowly looked up. Looking down at him, with tears in his eyes, was Nikola.
74
ONE OF THE guards tried to scramble away. Nikola leaped over to him and picked up the guard by his jacket. “Did you do this?” he roared.
“No! He was like this when he came here.”
Nikola held him at eye level, thrusting him against the stone wall. “Who did it to him?” he hissed.
The guard spluttered. “I don’t know,” he whimpered.
“Then you’re no use to me.” He withdrew his knife and cut the man’s throat.
The guard collapsed to the floor, clutching his throat. Blood spilled over the stones. In his dazed state, Sebastian focused on the blood trickling between the cracks. He was so thirsty.
Nikola turned to the second guard. He pricked the end of his knife against the man’s throat. “Give me an answer.”
“We get told nothing, but the rumor is that he was brought down by the Master.”
“And where would I find this Master?”
“In New York, where he always is.”
“Thank you.” He drove the knife into the guard’s throat. The guard shook and twitched before Nikola released him, before falling across the body of the first guard.
“Sebastian, we’re here to get you out.” Nikola smiled and stroked Sebastian’s hair.
“Oh, Nikola, look what they did to me,” he cried.
“I’ve seen worse. Some would consider it a flesh wound. Most importantly, you’re alive.” There were tears in his eyes as he looked at the terrible condition Sebastian was in.
“You said ‘we.’”
“Ah, yes, I have a surprise for you.”
“Melanie?”
“I’m so sorry. She didn’t make it. The infected outnumbered her. She was never going to get out.”
/> Sebastian burst into tears. In his heart, he knew that Melanie hadn’t made it, but he’d never had it confirmed until now. The news from his friend was devastating. Melanie, his protector, was dead. He felt so vulnerable.
As if reading his thoughts, Nikola said, “Look, it would be a bit silly for Melanie to protect you now. You’re as big as me. Lord knows how you’ve been growing so much. But look, this might help.” He spoke over his shoulder.
A young woman wearing a dark uniform, with golden ringlets falling around her face, stepped in through the doorway. Her face was hidden in the dark, but Sebastian would have recognized her shape anywhere.
She knelt down in front of him.
“@summer.”
She smiled at him.
He turned away. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”
Her eyes roamed over his body, assessing his injuries. She took out a medireader. It buzzed and clicked as figures scrolled across the small display.
“You’re worried about your arm?”
He nodded.
“You forget I have no legs. They’re only cyborg attachments. Do they make me less?”
“Never.”
“Then we’re the same.” She gave him a smile.
‘I can’t believe you’re here. For so long I’ve been missing you. How much do you remember?”
“Enough. Enough for me to do this.” She leaned forward and kissed him gently on the lips. “You’re more than the sum of your parts, Sebastian. Don’t worry about any parts you might lose.” She wrapped her arms around him. He shivered as she held him. “You could do with a wash. Your smell is bad.bad.bad.”
He stared into @summer’s eyes. Inside, he was falling to pieces and being lifted up high.
“Why did you come?” he said.
“I received an instruction to look after you.”
“Who from?”
“I don’t know. It was always there. Waiting for the moment when it needed to make itself known. Maybe Iris had something to do with it.” She shrugged.
He smiled at her, stroking her face. “You don’t know how happy I am that you’re here.”
“I believe I know your happiness level exactly,” she smiled.
Nikola hugged Sebastian and gave him a tap on his shoulder. “You look good, son.”
Sebastian laughed. The simple act started his tears again. The misery of the cell fell away, and even the walls seemed to recede a little.
“Apart from your flesh wound, that is,” Nikola said. “You’ve grown. You may even be nearly as tall as me.”
For the first time since Nikola had entered the cell, Sebastian took a good look at his old friend and mentor, Nikola. Nikola Tasman had been the commander-in-chief of the Steam Academy. Back then Nikola had towered above him, and most others. But here they were, staring at each other eye-to-eye.
“Sebastian is precisely two centimeters taller than you,” @summer said.
Nikola stretched up. “No, he isn’t. It’s probably the angle you’re measuring at. Anyway, let’s get out of these cells and into the fresh air. Well, fresher air.”
“We need to get the others. Niels and Memphis.”
“Who are they?”
“Niels is like Albert back home. He’s a physics genius. He knows how the Master’s weapons work, having created them.”
“And Memphis?”
He looked down at his feet. “She said she was helping me get to New York. I need to find out the truth about whether she betrayed me or not.”
“You’re hanging out with quality people.”
The guards had removed everything from the cell since Memphis’s last attempt. The bloodstains from her wrists still stained the stone floor.
They had tried to touch her when she first arrived, but she’d been such a spitting ball of rage it hadn’t been worth the danger. Her anger eventually burned out. She had nothing left, and just lay on her side on her cot, staring at the wall. They had tried to touch her again, but she simply stared ahead, dead behind the eyes. For the guards, that was somehow worse.
Then she’d discovered the sharp edge on the cot.
The guards had watched as she laughed and cried, staring at the ceiling as the blood flowed from her wrists. She had only been saved because of the rudimentary first-aid knowledge of the man who delivered the minimal amount of food each day.
The guards beat her senseless every week. It was the only thing that could make her react. All hope had gone. Time had lost meaning, along with her mind. She resolved to stop eating, and eventually find relief from what her life had become.
Today was the day. I won’t live beyond today, she thought.
The cell door opened. She stirred. Maybe if she gave the guards what they wanted they would finish her off. If she was lucky. She rolled over to face her attackers.
And in walked a god.
She looked up at the tall man with his long flowing hair and shoulders that took up the entire entrance. Light seemed to shine from his enormous physique. He looked familiar. He held a large sword, the tip touching the ground. The blade was covered with blood. He stepped up to her.
“Are you Memphis?”
She stared back at him, unable to speak, too weak to move.
“Any sign will do.”
She opened her mouth and tried to move her arm.
His piercing blue eyes stared through her. He turned and called to someone in the passageway. “I think I’ve found her.”
In walked Sebastian. He looked nearly identical to the man next to him. Someone else entered along with him, a young woman. Memphis reached for Sebastian, tears rolling down her face. Arms lifted her, and she was carried away. The darkness took her.
They found Niels in another cell, chained to a wall. He was barely more than a skeleton in rags. His long beard looked and smelled like a dead raccoon. @summer helped the two men walk down the passage to the entrance of the cellblock, and Nikola carried Memphis.
“There’s been a bit of a war raging for the last couple of months,” Nikola said. “You might’ve missed it.”
They emerged from the prison doors into the cool night air. Winter was approaching. A large crowd was gathered, and when they saw Nikola, they erupted in cheers.
“But we’re winning,” Nikola said. “Mostly,” he added.
“Who are all these people?” Sebastian said.
“The western armies. Obviously not all of them, but the ones that could be spared and had the inclination.”
“You’ve brought them all together, the western factions. The Chargers and the Forty-ninth Division. ”
Nikola nodded. “They responded well to reasoned arguments at the end of a sharp blade.”
“Some of us didn’t need persuading,” said a familiar voice, followed by a familiar face.
Sebastian wheeled around. “Brad.”
“Officially Q-backer Williams to you, sonny. But we’re collaborating with our new friends the Chargers, as suggested rather persuasively by Nikola. It’s good to see you. It’s been a tough couple of months, and you are some welcome news indeed.”
“Your father?” Sebastian said, fearing that Alan Finchley was dead.
Brad shook his head. “He didn’t make it. He fell to an infected, and I had to kill him. It was a pretty grim time. Like you said it would be.”
“What about the others, Will and Edward?”
“The ones we could get to came with us. But it’s been tough and the toll’s been great.”
Sebastian turned to Nikola. “I still can’t believe you got all the people together.”
“I started small with this man,” Nikola said, as another man approached. “He’s another one who goes by the odd rank of q-backer. I don’t know why they can’t have ordinary ranks.”
‘Hello, young man,” Charlie Baxter said. “I never thought I’d ever say this to a tesla, but I’m glad to see you.”
“I’m sorry for what you suffered, Charlie,” Sebastian said. “But if it makes you feel any bett
er, I’m a broken tesla now.”
Charlie laughed and patted him on the arm.
“Enough of your directionless talking,” @summer said. “The prisoners need medical attention.”
75
THEY TOOK THE weakened trio to a small hospital near the cells. Nikola laid the unconscious Memphis on a stretcher in her own room, and joined the others. @summer ran her own tests over the survivors, declaring the antiquated local equipment barbaric.
“Is he all right?” Nikola asked.
Sebastian lay quietly on the bench being prodded and poked by @summer’s various medical devices, his eyes glued to her face and every movement.
“He’s missing an arm,” @summer replied.
“Yeah, I think I’d worked that one out.”
“His levels are fluctuating. His iron count is ten times above normal, as are his white blood cells. Blood pressure is high. Heart rate is high. He’s emitting high.high levels of radioactivity.”
“Are you sure he’s alive? Anything else?”
“His body is dense.dense. Like his head.”
“Was that a joke?” Sebastian said.
“No. I don’t know any jokes.” She gave him a smile. “Yes, it was.”
“Is all that stuff normal?” Nikola said.
“No.” She ran a small medical reader over Sebastian’s head. “But there’s something wrong with his head. I’m getting an unnatural reading.”
“Is that while he’s looking at you?” Nikola said. “Because I’m pretty sure I know what he’s thinking.”
@summer smiled. “No, not looking at me. But I can detect that as well.”
“What can I do about my mind?” Sebastian said, ignoring their banter.
The rabbit of a man, once known as Niels, spoke up from the bed beside Sebastian. “I’ve had a bit of time to think about the circumstances you outlined,” he said to @summer. “You, part machine person—”
