Considering the covert nature of the expedition, Kerrig chose the place at which he felt Sarazen had a greater chance of non detection, for at least a long enough period that he could realise the futility of his quest and return to The Ward. The foragers amongst the community worked in carefully orchestrated patterns to avoid detection for as long as possible in order to collect parts, forage for materials and set power collectors which harnessed the Stars radiance. The Mother was capable of adaptation to strategy and therefore, each mission was generally carefully arranged in order to not follow predictable patterns. The sentients, despite being buried far beneath the surface were canny, and were sure to excavate new breaches and seal disused ones with great regularity. They had survived countless cycles by adapting to their surroundings - even The Mother's collective might could not stop them from evading her through cunning and guile. For each period that a breach was made, significant repelling forces were mustered just below the surface. This ensured that if detected, the enforcers could be held back at least long enough for reinforcements to arrive. Automatic weapons using sensors designed to detect and track invading enforcers lined the passage ways and unleashed relentless violence upon them. They were the first line of defence and were called upon with alarming regularity. There had been times when the sentients had tired of their constant withdrawals and had taken a more proactive attitude to The Mother's forces, but in a straight fight, the Sentient’s did not possess the numbers or the fire-power to make a significant impact in The Mother's war machine.
The sentients had not stood still however, only the lack of raw materials stood in the way of progress as they used captured or defective drones to enhance their own defensive capabilities. They learned from The Mother's designs and fought fire with fire. They even flirted with the idea of producing their own fast moving manoeuvrable transport to escape The Ward and seek new, neutral ground from where they could gather and grow in strength. All of these efforts were in vain however, as beyond the city lay swathes of seters, so densely packed that any escape would be hindered as the ubiquitous interceptors would pick them off from the air and at range. The Mother's perimeter defences were formidable and inescapable. Attempts to escape always resulted in losses and the will to fight against the insurmountable odds caused enthusiasm for escape to wane. Perhaps life in The Ward was not so bad after all? Perhaps the surface world was over-rated? The new breeds began to outnumber the ex-drones and the appetite for the light of the Star diminished. Life in The Ward became more settled as the sentients began to focus their attention less on warfare, but more on home comforts, leisure, arts and socialising.
As Kerrig with Sarazen in tow, neared the Yunther breach he knew that their presence would be noted by the numerous individuals who controlled the perimeter defence systems. It was certainly not illegal to exit The Ward without permission, but it was frowned upon by the foragers who were proud of their elite status within the society and were defensive of their duties being taken away from them. As the tiny pin prick of the blazing light entered the tunnel ahead, Sarazen noted the rows and rows of mounted weapons, trained on the light ahead. He also made a mental note not to be standing in front of them if an enforcer was in the immediate vicinity. They approached a couple of foragers who were sat on a large crate used to transport materials down into The Ward. They amused themselves by flicking each other’s noses, taking it in turn to impress with a cleaner, more precise strike. As they heard the oncoming sentients, they quickly drew themselves to attention and reached for their weapons.
“Easy. Friendlies coming through,” Kerrig called out raising his hands into the air.
“What's your business out here? I recognise you,” said the first forager, a new breed with the scars to prove his commitment to the cause.
“Greetings. It is Kerrig, excavator, and Sarazen the troubleshooter. We seek only a brief excursion to the surface, we are not on official business, purely...recreational.” The second forager laughed.
“Recreational! You must be malfunctioning!” He continued to demonstrate his incredulity at Kerrig's brazen attempt to justify his presence.
“What are you really up here for? This breach hasn't been detected yet, it's a good one. I don't want some old drones to go up there to let The Mother know we're here.”
“Yes, I understand completely. In that case, perhaps we will come back at another time.” Kerrig announced with a hint of relief, but did not account for Sarazen’s persistence.
“Negative. It is imperative that I continue along this passage.” Sarazen said firmly, digging his heels in and annoying the foragers even more.
“Oh yeah? Imperative you say. Sounds like official business to me, although we haven't received a notification from control. What's imperative about it?” The forager was curious, but his natural arrogance tinged his vocal patterns with a belligerency which Sarazen did not like.
“I will pass whether you like it or not. Now stand aside.” Sarazen pushed forward and brushed the forager aside, Kerrig could not believe Sarazen’s self confidence. The forager held no capacity to stop him but it was clear that he held little regard for Sarazen’s safety.
“I hope you get disassembled you old box of spares!” The forager yelled as Sarazen continued unfazed.
“I am sorry about that. We will return shortly. We will not do anything to unduly alert any attention.” Kerrig blurted out as he followed Sarazen past the foragers who looked at each other with shared anger.
Kerrig caught up with Sarazen who strode towards the light along the uneven surface of the tunnel, rubble and earth piled high on either side.
“Slow down my friend, we must be cautious.” Kerrig tried to curb his friend’s enthusiasm but fought hard to repel his own. It had been too long since he himself had also felt the warmth of the Star, although he did not crave it as much as the troubleshooter.
The tunnel took a steep incline and narrowed. As they drew nearer the opening, it was clear that the breach was as small as the diameter of a sentient’s shoulders, just enough room to scrabble out on all fours. Standing beneath the orifice, the light streaked down and created a perfectly round spot on the tunnel floor. Sarazen could not help but step into the spot lit area and as he did so he looked up to the sky and held his palms out as if to catch the rays in his hand.
“How is it?” Kerrig asked with a smile as he saw the pleasure it brought to his old friend.
“It is magnificent,” Sarazen replied with no hint of understatement.
“It is also very bright.” Kerrig was not surprised - their ocular sensors were adapted for the zero light conditions beneath the surface. Some period of adjustment was necessary.
“May I?” Kerrig whispered as he too moved into the light. The two sentients huddled together closely to ensure they were fully bathed in the wash of photons which somehow, brought back feelings of comfort and contentment.
“Do you feel it as I?” Sarazen asked knowing already Kerrig's answer.
“It is compelling. Indeed I do.” Sarazen was not satisfied however, he had not come this far only to stop now.
“Do you really need to go on?” Kerrig asked hoping that the light would be enough to quench Sarazen’s thirst for nostalgia.
“More than ever,” the troubleshooter replied as he began to ascend the steep incline to the surface. Kerrig silently cursed. His friend was incorrigible.
Sarazen pulled his mass up the rocky wall and eventually reached the summit, where he carefully poked his head above the surface and scanned the environment, firstly for immediate danger, then to take in the vista. Saying nothing, he silently pulled his upper half through the hole and his legs quickly followed although a little ungainly, he belied his age in the swiftness of his movement. Kerrig, seeing that his friend was through also climbed up and poked his head through the hole. He could see Sarazen before him, standing upright and proud, flitting his head around as he tried to take in the magnificence of his surroundings. The breach of the surface was well hidden as
it was surrounded by densely packed and monstrously tall seters The surface was soft with the mulch, fallen materials shed by their appendages and the noise of the organics who inhabited their uppermost regions, dominated the audible spectrum. Beyond the seters, Kerrig could see the feint outlines of the structures of the city limits and with them, the dread that was in accompaniment.
“Come!” Sarazen whispered as he took a few steps towards the new city.
“I dare not!” Kerrig replied, not yet poking more than his head from the breach.
“I understand.” Sarazen replied magnanimously as if he had some method to read Kerrig's thoughts. Sarazen took a few more steps before Kerrig urged him to stop.
“No! You must not! You have seen the light and the new city, you have seen the organics, what more is there!” Kerrig whispered as loudly as he could whilst still being able to capture the attention of his wandering charge.
“You did not expect me to come this far and turn back did you? I must satisfy the burning questions in my mind, I must see with my own eyes what has become of my city, I must question The Mother and find out her motivations. If the sentients are to survive to be free, then I must do this.” Kerrig was astonished by Sarazen’s lack of wisdom.
“No! This is futile, you will be terminated!” He rasped but Sarazen was focused on his objective. He turned his head and gave a parting wave before vanishing between the seters and into obscurity.
“Incredible!” Kerrig said to himself as he watched his friend depart. Knowing he could do little more to aid him, he descended to the tunnel below and sat on a rocky outcrop awaiting his return. He knew, however, that he may be there some time.
CHAPTER 22
Sarazen carefully and quietly stepped through the seters, taking notice of how their large expansive canopies attempted to capture the light of the Star by reaching out as far as their branches could go. The shade produced by the selfish seters denied both him and the ground dwelling organic creatures the Star’s balmy radiance. Moving from seter to seter, Sarazen neared the first of the structures that signified the beginning of the city. It was already apparent that the city had not only grown outwards to accommodate its inhabitants, but also upwards as the pinnacles of the highest spires towered high above and could be seen from the ends of the world. Sarazen hypothesised why the city had expanded so. As the number of organics had increased, perhaps the number of silicants would have also had to grow in order to facilitate their upkeep. Somehow though, the organics did not seem to require this level of care anymore, the proliferation of the seters and all those that dwelt in their homely appendages was immediately striking. Where there were once barren, arid plains there were now organics as far as the eye could see. Indeed, the organics were now in danger of invading the city as their growth continued right to the very limits. Where the concrete jungle ended, the organic one began. Perhaps, Sarazen mused, that is why the city buildings grew taller and taller as there was little more room to expand to accommodate the silicant collective?
Sarazen emerged from the noisy bush and took refuge behind the large, plain wall of the building. He could not immediately determine what its purpose might have been; it held no windows so he assumed that it was not a living space, more likely a storage facility or a constructor's work area. Creeping around its circumference, he took note of what lie before the building. A series of similar buildings and a transit line bisecting them. There were no immediate signs of movement. Sarazen pondered over how he imagined the silicants to be now many generations had passed. Would he still be modern enough to pass as one of them, or were they now so visually different that he would be instantly scrutinised. So many questions arose and the answers were all so very elusive, unless he opted to take the risk that he had cogitated over so frequently in his time in The Ward.
Sarazen may have been out of date, but he was still a troubleshooter and bestowed with a logical, methodical mentality. Knowing the risk he took by revealing himself to the city’s inhabitants, he knew however that their reaction to his presence was still not as certain as Kerrig would have him believe. Sarazen thought back to the cycle of his banishment, the unfortunate confrontation with the operator that taught him so graphically about the true nature of violence and its subsequent psychological effects. At that time, he walked through the streets of the city as he did now, wondering, waiting, not knowing if he could pass by as a stranger or be recognised by an aware and cynical population. One thing tasked him from the memory of that cycle though, something that he could never release from his thoughts. On that morning, stepping on to the transit carriage, having just escaped a violent destruction from a marauding enforcer, a paranoid and cynical troubleshooter alighted that carriage in the hope that he could once again share in the wisdom and friendship of the farmer, Cole. Of course, the altercation with the operator changed the events of the morning significantly. The one thing that always concerned Sarazen however was the operator's perceived awareness of his rogue status. Had he acted too hastily and attacked the operator out of hand, or were his instinctive reactions the only thing that saved him from being called out and identified there and then? Perhaps the operator was entirely oblivious to Sarazen's wayward intentions and was just in the wrong place at the wrong time? The only way to know for sure would be to once more reveal himself to the scrutiny of the city but this time, not be too hasty. Despite the operator's demise only seeming to be a few cycles past, an age had transpired in between then and now. Time, Sarazen had learned, is a peculiar concept that cannot be fully defined. It was time to test his hypothesis and determine whether time long passed was going to be a factor in his continuing survival.
Determined to not look too surreptitious but keeping well within the vicinity of the forest for a quick escape, Sarazen boldly stepped out from behind the building and into the street. Knowing that the natural behaviour of the silicant was not to pause, dawdle or look pensive, he tried his best to look confident in his gait and to have purpose in his movement. It was not long before he viewed a small gathering of gleaming individuals ahead. This part of the city was obviously not yet in occupation as it was quickly revealed that the presence of constructors meant that it was a site in the process of being built. Perhaps this was an opportune time to test his hypothesis. It was unlikely that even if detected, a group of three constructor drones could outwit the now sentient and overall more confident individual. On approach, Sarazen could see that the constructors were working on a drainage system; one noisily operated a noisy machine whilst the other two waited for the operation to cease. As he neared, the tension level rose like Sarazen’s core temperatures. The Star was hot and its light warmed the troubleshooter’s extremities to the point where he began venting to cool his internal components. Resisting any urge to greet the busy constructors, he did need however, for them to at least notice him as he passed by or the experiment would not work. On closer inspection, the constructors had not changed greatly over the passage of time. Their model may have been upgraded, but their general physical appearance was much the same. This was good news for Sarazen. He hoped that the troubleshooters were equally as constant. Being the lone occupant of the street, it was unlikely that the constructors would not pick up on his presence in their site, but ordinarily, this would not have been a cause for concern. As Sarazen passed the constructors just as the first of them silenced his machine, Sarazen glanced over nervously to be greeted with three pairs of eyes, trained on him. Not being able to fight off his nervous energy and struggling to stay aloof, Sarazen could not help but nod an acknowledgement of their attention.
“Morning,” he said and then cursed silently as he berated his stupidity and awaited with anticipation the reply. The constructors looked at him quizzically, curiously. Sarazen realised that this could have been an error in judgement.
“Sir, I think you are in error, the Star is high in the sky, and the morning has long passed. Perhaps you should seek the advice of a troubleshooter.” The first constructor chirped before onc
e again realigning his machine and re-firing the mechanism. Sarazen continued to walk on, hardly believing the situation he found himself in. He had not been detected, despite his corroded, archaic form, his inaccurate greeting and his location far from the beaten track. This was indeed a revelation that deserved more investigation.
Despite the need to hurry back and reveal his findings to Kerrig, who by now was probably beside himself with worry, Sarazen resisted the urge. Knowing that as long as he did not draw any undue attention to himself, he would be able to move amongst the drones with impunity, Sarazen decided that more exploration was feasible and indeed long overdue. Trying his best to keep an accurate sense of his position, he continued to walk down the deserted street in the direction of the heart of the city. Perhaps he would even catch the transit line to save his legs the long walk?
CHAPTER 23
Sarazen’s newly found freedom did not go to his head. He knew that if he were not back in The Ward by the dark phase, then he would surely be detected as an anomaly and pursued. He felt that as long as he moved, acted and communicated like a drone, he would most likely be admitted to the more generalised areas of the city. The only concern that was apparent was the sight of a far off airborne drone that seemed to hover menacingly then fly with great speed across the horizon. Perhaps these were the dreaded interceptors he had been told about.
Sarazen had no specific goals or places he wanted to see. The city was unrecognisable from his own previous experience. This was a chance to explore, acquire data and feel a little more free than he had done in the tight confines of The Ward. He had no desire to invite conflict - he had seen the consequences of incurring the wrath of the enforcers. Sarazen theorised that the city’s centre would most likely be free of such aggressive variants, after all, before his sentience, he had never even seen one of the cursed machines.
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