Souls in the Great Machine

by Sean McMullen

  "Yuntall! But that's on the Barrier Paraline to Brocknil."

  "It's confirmed, Overmayor. Wirramina reports three thousand crossing the Great Western Paraline and moving south, but not attacking." "A pincer movement. They will meet at the south of Lake Tyers, Woomera off from the Southeast Alliance. They move fast, and to our vulnerable points. How do they do it? Did that escapee Vittasner build them another battle calculor? Take me to the par aline depot, now."

  The City Overhand of Woomera caught up with Zarvora at the depot,

  as she was trying to find a galley engine and crew. "The Ghans are burning the scrub between our beam flash towers to us," he said as he followed her about. "Soon all links with east and west be gone."

  "The beam flash network has done its job already," Zarvora assured "Your fortified towns have been warned and secured. Most could withstand limited siege from a few thousand attackers."

  "But Hawker is under attack by ten thousand, perhaps twelve."

  Zarvora stared at him in astonishment. "As many as that?"

  "And they have bombards. I've requisitioned a galley train to relieve

  Four hundred troops and a dozen bombards of our own."

  "That does not seem enough, but how can we know? I must be on train."

  "If you wish, Frelle Overmayor, but to be anywhere outside a fortified or city is dangerous." That night, as the galley train reached the southern tip of Lake Tyers, ordered it stopped. She had a horse unloaded in the darkness, then ordered captain to proceed without her. As the train moved out over the trestle sat alone on her horse, watching the wagons dwindle into the distance by light of Mirrorsun. The Calldeath lands were quite deep here, and were only quarter-hour ride from this part of the par aline She set off slowly across of the dry lake. Suddenly there was a faint flash of light to her left, followed by the sound of a distant blast. The bridge had been mined. I would have done that, Zarvora thought as she rode on. After another twenty minutes a faint tingling feeling warned her that she was entering the Calldeath region. Her horse grew eager to go south, and for a time she let it have its head. Now she was safe from human attack, and she could follow the Calldeath strip all the way to Peterborough.

  As she rode, a name kept echoing through her mind. Lemorel, Lemorel, Lemorel. Several coded dispatches had referred to Commander Lemorel, the leader of the Alspring Ghan invaders. Lemorel was most certainly not a Ghan name. Lemorel Milderellen had abducted John Glasken and gone in search of the Alspring cities a half-decade earlier. Lemorel had also been one of her most trusted and promising young Dragon Librarians. No wonder the Ghans knew exactly where to strike in order to do the most damage.

  The whirring and swishing sound of the Libris Calculor room began to take on a regular rhythm as the diagnostic program ran its course. There were no anomalies, the Libris Calculor was in perfect order. MULTIPLIER 8 and PORT 3A cleared their frames, and MULTIPLIER 17 sat back from his frame as he tapped the floor pedal with his foot and sent his last calculation away to the local node. The sound of the huge machine began to fade, as if they were leaving a shift and walking away down a corridor.

  " "Tis running down, PORT," said MULTIPLIER 17, but the components nearby only turned to glare at him. A regulator walked up, rested her cane on his shoulder, and held a finger to her lips.

  The noise faded further, until there was nothing but the swish of polling signals being sent at five-second intervals. Input had ceased, there was no more work being entered. The System Herald stood up and banged the floor with his black wood rod.

  "System Hold!" he called clearly and firmly. The polling signals stopped, and there was silence. Four thousand pairs of eyes were upon him. "Components attend! Shift terminated. Announcement to follow."

  Buzzing coversation welled up throughout the Calculor. The regulator beside MULTIPLIER 17 sat down and began sobbing softly. He put an ann over her shoulders, and she put her head on his chest and began to soak his tunic with tears. He scarcely felt any happier himself.

  "Some damn major reconfiguration, I'll bet," said MULTIPLIER 8 to

  PORT 3A.

  "Don't be a dummart," he replied. "They're going to shut down the Calculor." They sat in silence for a moment. "They can't do that," said MULTIPLIER 8. "What about our work? Who's to do it?" "Contract labor? Perchance the may orate itself is no more, perchance

  Southmoors have crushed the mayoral armies and are advancing on the

  "None of that's in the beam flash traffic. Things is quiet, and except that inflation on the royal is up to three point two percent."

  "Then this is it, then.." the end of the machine."

  "No, it's a new configuration."

  As he spoke there was a deep clack at the back of the Calculor hall.

  heavy curtains that divided the hall began to be drawn back along the wires.

  they bunched up at the wall, the double doors between them opened. A

  entered carrying a scroll bound with a black ribbon and sealed with black

  It was a decree from Tarrin, and the System Controller appeared followin him. He was going to read it in person. When Tarrin reached the rostrum the System Herald banged his rod for tent ion in spite of the near-complete silence. "Attend the System Controller!"

  "My fellow souls in this great machine, the Calculor of Libris," he be breaking the seal on the scroll. "I have here a decree from Jefton, in his capacity as the ruler of Rochester. It reads thus: "Be it all magistrates, servants and officers of the Mayor, and citizens of the of Rochester, the machine known as the Calculor of Libris is hereby declared be decommissioned. All components who were formerly felons are hereby a mayoral pardon. All components who might have been pressed into the culor's service although not felons will be granted their freedom, fifty and full restoration of their property. Your service in the Calculor of Libris changed the very world itself. Accept my thanks." "

  He lowered the scroll and surveyed the Calculor Hall. There was no movement amid the ranks of faces focused on him. He raised his voice again.

  "There will, of course, be administrative assistance for those who have difficulty in readjusting to life outside Libris. All Dragon who are acting as regulators will be redeployed to other duties with no loss rank. Please go to your cells and pack your possessions. The doors will be locked. Components of the Libris Calculor, on behalf of the goodbye and good luck."

  He stepped down from the podium and began to walk back along the through the center of the Calculor. A component stood up as he passed.

  "Fras Controller, what will replace us?" the component pleaded, his open and extended.

  "This is our home," called PORT 3A from nearby. "This is our our world. You can't take it away from us." ' '

  There was a rumble of assent that rippled out across the Calculor.

  shrugged hopelessly as he looked from component to component. "There are smaller calculors, and even mechanical devices. These over much of the work of beam flash decoding and records control." "We won't go!" shouted the component in front of him, and his shout was echoed by both the walls and scores of other components.

  "There's stores down in the vaults to last months," cried the regulator who had been sitting beside MULTIPLIER 17. "We can stay here."

  "This is none of my doing. I fought hard and long for the Calculor. The Mayor will have us removed if we don't go."

  "We can arm the components!" cried a regulator. "Twelve thousand components is a fearsome army!"

  "Aye, and most of us has been felons," bellowed a gruff voice. "We can shoot, hit, an' stab withe best of 'em."

  Tarrin looked about him, bemused. "But most of you must want to go!"

  "Those who want to go are welcome to go," PORT 3A shouted out across the ranks of the components. "We choose to stay!" The cheering that erupted was deafening, and components and regulators closest to the doors ran off to tell the off-duty components what was happening. Tarrin was surrounded by angry, shouting components, and was unable to move.

  Beyond the g
ates of Libris, the delegates and supporters of the Rochester and Southeast Alliance Human Rights Association waited in vain to welcome the newly liberated components of the Libris Calculor. When an hour passed with no result they demanded to send in a delegation, refusing to believe that the components had barricaded themselves inside, and that the regulators and guards had joined them. The delegation was beaten up and ejected. The candles in their party globes began to burn out; then it began to rain. The letters in the banners that they carried began to run, and were soon illegible.

  The siege of Libris lasted only a few hours, during which the Libris Calculor was again made operational. A message arrived under the Overmayor's personal code, and it declared the entire Southeast Alliance to be in a state of general mobilization. Civil rights were now subject to the provisions of martial law, and the Calculor was most definitely not to be disbanded. Tarrin was carded shoulder high from the Calculor Hall by the components, all grateful for his long series of court battles to keep them where they were.

  John Glasken emerged from the beam flash public office after three hours, too exhausted from arguing with the clerks and lackeys to feel rage. Ettenbar joined him and they strode off down the road.

  "Morgan! They shipped that bloody third rocket to Morgan and the only reason that it didn't get as far as the marshaling yards in Rochester is that the gauge of the rails changes from broad to narrow at Morgan and they didn't have a suitable flatbed available with narrow bogies! Misrouted beam flash message, that's what the Controller of the Morgan Paraline Shunting Yards said. The beam flash system really is letting standards slip."

  "The Overmayor will not be pleased!" "The Overmayor will blame me! Fools and incompetents, they're all around: me--present company excepted. I'm going to get that rocket back to on time if I have to strap a saddle to it and ride it there."

  "A trifle extreme, Fras 3084?" Ettenbar ventured.

  "STOP CALLING ME THAT!" Glasken shouted, his voice hoarse. "Ah, yes, and I am sorry, Fras Johnny. Under stress I tend to revert to serenity and discipline of the Libris Calculor. Still, you prevailed."

  "That I did, and now I'm going to have a drink, then catch the next train to Morgan Railside." The tavern was packed with patrons, and after another long and wait Glasken emerged with their pies and his tankard. They sat on a pile of roofiJ shingles and began to eat.

  "Lot of worried folk in there," said Glasken between mouthfuls.

  about an IW10 code. Everyone was saying it was an IW10 code. Come to of it, there was mention of it in the beam flash office as well."

  Ettenbar turned to him at once, eyes wide. "That is Invasion War alert at level ten."

  Glasken frowned, put down his pie and took up the tankard of black "War, eh? There's always a war somewhere, I bet it's the Southmoors It's as inevitable as the Call. Or maybe some castellan's sent his gamekeepers shoot at his neighbors again--hope it's not one of my old man's neighbors. last thing I want on my doorstep is refugee parents." He took a thoughtful low of ale.

  "Fras Johnny, level ten is a very large war, with an invasion fifty thousand."

  "Fifty thousand!" Froth sprayed over the edge of Glasken's

  "There's never even been an army that big. I--Etten, what's wrong? The got to you?" Glasken followed his gaze. Ettenbar was looking down the street, to a lone rider was slowly approaching on a lame horse. It was a tall woman. her hair roughly bound back, and wearing a ragged wayfarer's cloak. bandages covered her left arm, and dark splotches of blood showed through. she drew near they could see that she had bound a saber into her injured and there were fang marks in her boots and the flanks of her horse.

  "Overmayor!" shouted Ettenbar, dropping his rice pie and running out the street. Glasken followed, tankard in hand. Zarvora reined in her horse and looked down at them, but her eyes unable to focus. "Beamflash tower," she managed in a slurred whisper.

  Having stopped, the horse was unable to walk any further. Glasken for a stabler as he helped Zarvora from the saddle. She could hardly stand, after a sip of his ale she regained her senses. "Beamflash, take me there."

  "Frelle Overmayor, you need the attention of a medic ian first," began Ettenbar.

  "Take me to the nearest tower at once," she replied emphatically, a contralto tone returning to her voice. That was enough for Glasken. "Aye Frelle," he said as he lifted her in his arms and began to walk toward the beam flash tower. He was surprised at how light she seemed, just as Ilyire had been when he had lifted the drunken Alspring Ghan into a stolen cart. Ettenbar followed, and behind him was a small crowd who were muttering about it being the Overmayor.

  "Overmayor, do not be afraid," said Ettenbarrassuringly. "We are your loyal servants, two FUNCTIONS Of the Dexter Register."

  "Calculor FUNCTIONS? I can hardly believe it," she mumbled.

  "He's raving, Overmayor, it's Glasken and Ettenbar," added Glasken. At the beam flash office Glasken suddenly found himself given far more deference than had been forthcoming for the previous three hours. The deputy captain of the tower ushered them straight into the counterweight lift and they were raised to the beam flash gallery itself. Glasken was still holding Zarvora in his arms. The tower captain met them as they stepped out into the gallery.

  "What news is there?" Zarvora asked. "I have been traveling two days." "Hawker has just fallen," said the captain, assuming that Glasken and Ettenbar had a high security clearance. "Before the signal was lost there was word that Wirrinya was under attack and unlikely to last another day. There was a fierce attack on the walls of Woomera itself, but grapeshot from the bombards drove the Ghans back. The Great Western Paraline's rail sides received a destruct order from Kalgoorlie last night, so the rails have been blown up and the roiling stock burned as far west as Naretha."

  "Good, the desert will do Kalgoorlie's fighting for now. What else?" "The Barrier Paraline has been taken from Nackara to Cockburn, and the Ghans have captured at least two galley trains and several wind engines. The citadel at Brocknil had held, but the city proper and the rail side have fallen. Also, the Southrnoors seem to have an alliance with the Alspring Ghans. The Darlington beam flash tower was destroyed by Southmoor bombards yesterday. Contact with the Central Confederation has been lost."

  In the background Glasken and Ettenbar listened to the litany of disaster with near incredulity. "The Ghans attempted to cut off Peterborough, but for once their lines were overextended. The Peterborough Mayoral Musketeers Cavalry stopped them in a battle ten miles to the east."

  Zarvora shambled over to a map on the wall where she ran her finger over the names of several towns.

  "So, someone is a match for them," she said with her finger poised Peterborough.

  "There is one more piece of good news, Highliber. A suicide squad fifty Ghans got all the way to Morgan. They blew up a section of par aline and detonated another charge against the wall of the beam flash tower before militia killed them. Luckily they had used too little powder, so the tower is standing and in operation. Also the par aline track that they blasted turned out be a shunting line, so traffic is still getting through."

  Just then a medic ian emerged from the lift to tend her, and as her hand being unwrapped she accepted a honey cake from one of the beam flash crew.

  "Without help they could not have moved so fast and far in three days," she said to the tower captain. "There must have been advance parties sent all coordinated to act at the same time. There must also have been help within our own system. How many galley engines are there here at enough?"

  "Two, Frelle Highliber. Three others were ordered north on the second of the fighting, and were destroyed on the line near Hawker."

  She removed two of the four pistols from her belt and handed them to ten bar He immediately began cleaning and reloading them. "Tell the Mayor to seal the town, begin rationing, and prepare for a siege. Assemble all sheep and horses that cannot be fed out of stores and them overland to Morgan. They must not fall into the hands of the Ghans. Set the gangers destroying track to
the north and east of the town. Put much rolling stock behind the two galley engines as they can pull at low and load the train with all the noncombatants that it will carry: women, and wounded. I shall take it south to Burrat."

  The tower captain nodded at each of Zarvora's instructions, but his had no sense of urgency. "Overmayor, that would be unwise. The townsfolk to you for leadership. Your place is here, defending your dominions invaders." '

  Zarvora waved his objections aside with her newly bandaged hand. would see me isolated, Fras Captain, for this town is surely to be besieged the invaders."

  "So you will leave us, Frelle Highliber?"

  "Yes. Now obey my orders." In spite of his misgivings, Glasken decided that being close to the represented his best chance of survival. He and Ettenbar were sent to make that all was in order with the galley engines and to pass on Zarvora's

  By the time they reached the streets the town had erupted into bedlam, with truth about the invasion finally common knowledge. Prices had increased within minutes, women and children were being hurried along toward the hastily assembled train by grim-faced men, and agitators were shouting to the crowds that Rochester and the Overmayor had abandoned them. The train was standing ready, with the galley engines Firefly and Iron Duke coupled to pull it. The crowd around it was unruly, a mixture of weeping women, hysterical children, and un certain men being harangued by yet more agitators.

  "Good old Glasken, you've picked another winner," Glasken said aloud as they left the cabin of the lead galley engine after delivering Zarvora's messages.

  "Friend Johnny, this is no time to think upon horse racing," admonished Ettenbar.

  "Ettenbar--look here, have you ever been in a war?"

  "Why, no." "I have, but it wasn't like this. A few hours ago people were worried about whatever was happening with this rumored war, but they were still loyal. I should know, I stood farting and complaining with them in the queue at the beam flash office. Suddenly there's all these men shouting the same message against the Overmayor. This isn't a spontaneous rabble, this is organized."