Upon Stilted Cities - The Winds of Change

by Michael Kilman

  “We must all do our part,” a strange woman’s voice shrieked.

  A mantra repeated. “We must all do our part. We must all do our part. We must all do our part.”

  And Alexa, with words and thoughts now so powerful that she could likely rip a hole in the very fabric of the universe, responded to the voice in one single phrase that ended the existence of the red creature.

  “I am, bitch!”

  Light came. Gradually the images of the sisters and the library fled back into Alexa’s vision. But something was wrong. Many of the sisters lay motionless on the floor, and even Noatla was shivering, gripping onto Alexa for dear life.

  Alexa asked. “What happened?”

  “We, we don’t know. Nothing like this has ever happened... before... the initiation... something... where did you go?”

  “What do you mean, where did I go?” asked Alexa.

  “You don’t know? One moment you were there, the next you were gone, the next you were there again. When...” Noatla desperately tried to catch her breath, and the other sisters were beginning to stir. “The shrieking, in our minds. Was that you?”

  “Yes, that thing, that red thing, and the poster, it came for me.”

  “Poster? Red thing?” Noatla sat up, mustered all her will, and focused on Alexa. “Quickly, you must tell me everything that happened from the moment you awoke for your inspector duties to this moment. Do not spare any detail. It is of vital importance you leave nothing out.”

  Alexa told her of her trip to the Runner Docks and the poster she had seen on the ceiling on the people mover. She told about being summoned here, her impressions on the initiation, and finally what had happened to her after she had drunk the wine glass.

  “So it’s true. She is alive.” Noatla whispered.

  “What?”

  “Alexa, if I am correct in what just happened, then all of us owe you a great debt, you may very well have saved our lives. But now we must close the circle; we must rest and heal. There will be time for discussion about the events of this evening later, but for now, I think you have bought us some time, Alexa. She will certainly be hurting, and she will need to recover. Come, sisters, wake and embrace our new sister. Alexa’s eyes are open.”

  One by one, the sisters rose from their half-conscious states and moved closer to Alexa. Suddenly she found herself surrounded on all sides, each woman embracing her in turn. They formed a protective circle around her, but it was also a circle of gratitude and love.

  “Say the words now, sisters. Close our meeting, close our meaning, but open our eyes.”

  Then, inside her, words began to resonate with Alexa. They rose toward the back of her throat, and she found herself saying the words of the Order, words she had never known before, in chorus with the other women.

  “We shall not control, only shall we serve.”

  “We shall not fear, only we should have love.”

  “We shall not destroy, only we should create.”

  “We shall not dishonor, only honor.”

  “We shall not harm, only bring hope.”

  “We shall not run, only should we stand.”

  “Life is our covenant, Life is our mission, and we shall restore the Earth.”

  It was done. She was now Alexa of the Order of the Eye.

  Alexa’s thoughts turned to 17. She could feel him. He was at a nexus point, a choice point, at that very moment, his actions would decide if he lived or died. Alexa knew then with that if he died, the city would fall. If he died, so would all.

  Chapter 18

  The Second City

  “All fixed, Sir.”

  “Thanks, Walters, I appreciate you making quick work of those repairs.” Daniels patted the engineer on the shoulder.

  “Of course, Major Daniels, happy to help. Besides, all of us down in engineering want to do our part to make damn sure you catch the son of a bitch who killed Patton.”

  Daniels grunted and nodded. “How’s his family holding up?”

  “His wife is taking it pretty hard, Sir. His son... well, he’s only 2. Doesn’t understand what’s going on. Keeps asking for his Da Da... but...”

  “Look at me, Walters.”

  Walters did.

  “We will catch that son of a bitch, and justice will be done.”

  “He’s too good for the Core, Sir.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I said sir, whoever did this, they’re too good to be in the Runnercore. That son of a bitch needs to be recycled.”

  Daniels hesitated. He knew Walters was one of Patton’s best friends, but did he know what he was asking? He wondered if Walters had ever encountered the Recycled.

  “There will be justice. You have my word.” He reached out and shook Walter’s hand. He took it and Daniels, who rarely did such things, pulled the man in for a hug and patted him on the shoulder.

  “Thank you, Sir.” His voice quavered. “It’s always an honor to serve under you.”

  Daniels let Walters go, and he could tell that he was holding back tears, but only just. Both the murder and the bombing were having a significant impact on the morale of his staff. He needed to find the murderer soon, especially with a probable city around and a possible war looming.

  Walters turned and walked out through the main doors, and Daniels moved up into his chair. He looked at the most recent reports and noticed, not surprisingly, one particular person who had failed to report back into the docks.

  “Manhatsten, where in the hell is 17?” yelled Daniels. His whole staff stopped, turned, and looked. Perhaps Patton’s death was getting to him a little more then he cared to admit.

  “Searching, Sir.” It took a moment before the AI responded and Daniels tilted back his command chair, running his fingers through his hair and grabbing the back of his skull. “Sir, based on the last known coordinates reported by the EnViro Suit AI; he seems to be right on the edge of a massive sandstorm approximately fifty-nine kilometers due east.”

  Daniels groaned in frustration. “Of-fucking-course he is. Does that Runner ever go a single mission without trouble?”

  “Yes, Sir, in fact, in the seven thousand, eight hundred, and fifty-three missions that Runner 17 has participated in, he has avoided trouble on one hundred and eight of them.”

  Daniels rolled his eyes. He wasn’t looking for a literal explanation, but damn was that number telling.

  “Sir, I must also inform you that 17’s vitals during the last transmission were a cause for concern. Before I lost the signal in the storm, his AI was reporting significant blood loss.”

  The AI was now consistently offering information without query. So far, the diagnostics on its system hadn’t shown that anything was wrong with it, but Daniels would have to contact Solidsworth and a few others from the scholar school soon.

  “Blood and 17? So what else is new?” Daniels breathed a heavy sigh. “Send two Runners toward his location for assistance, but tell them to steer clear of the storm.”

  “As you wish.”

  Daniels sighed. “Johnson, what’s the status of the Runnercore? Are, they up and running?”

  “Yes, Sir. It looks like the last of the Core is ready to go. Most are waiting on standby in the dock, but there are several patrols around the perimeter of the city.”

  “All right, good. AI, I want to know if that storm even looks like it is turning back this direction. With so many Runners deployed, we’re sitting ducks.”

  There was a loud commotion just outside the main doors of security. Daniels heard what sounded like a woman’s voice yelling at the top of her lungs.

  “Private Garret, what the hell is going on out there?”

  “Sir, it’s Senator Tera Reevas. Apparently, she is demanding to see you.”

  “Ah, Christ.” Daniels detached his shoulder mounts and stepped down from his chair. “Let her in.”

  Tera Reevas pushed her way through the guard and the second door opened. She marched right up to Daniels, stared him straight i
n the eye and said, “Could you please tell me why security has forbidden anyone from the Mids to cross up into my apartments?”

  “Reevas, I don’t have time for your horseshit right now.”

  “I will go, just as soon as you have answered my question and removed security barring the way to my apartments.”

  “You know damn well there is a murderer out there. That security is there to protect all Senators. You are a possible target. Especially with your... nightly activities.”

  Tera’s voice was high and shrill. “My personal affairs are of no concern of yours, and frankly, Daniels—"

  “Sir, you need to see this,” said Johnson cutting her off.

  Tera ignored Johnson, “Your security forces not only prevented my guest from entering but also insulted them, and I have had–"

  “Sir, it's an emergency, sir,” said Johnson.

  Tera said, “I don’t care if the sky is falling. I will have my say here and furthermore—"

  Daniels said, “Shut your hole, woman. Let him speak. What is it, Johnson?”

  “It’s here, Sir. The city.”

  “What?”

  “The city. It's Saud, Sir. They've just moved inside sensor range."

  Even Tera Reevas fell silent.

  Chapter 19

  The Mistress of Storms

  Roderick’s second in command glided down out of the sandstorm toward where the motionless figure lay. Her boots thudded against the ground, and the wafts of dust caught in the wind, immediately joining the currents of the storm. Her storm sail, made in part out of an emergency Runner shelter, a solar fusion cloak taken from the back of a dead Rih, and long flexible metal rods, provided her with the ability to glide and surf the winds on the edge of the sandstorms. It was a talent which sadly she alone possessed.

  It was because of her skills moving through storms that the other members of the Children of Gaia, and even Roderick, had taken to calling her Mistress or Miss, short for the name they had given her. She was known as the Mistress of Storms. Some whispered and said that she was like the storms that she navigated. All but Roderick, Rocky, and a few of the other Lieutenants feared her and for a good reason. Miss’s strength and abilities in combat were a match even for the Rih. Notches lined the wooden frame of her bunk for each of the men she had killed in combat. The bedpost was full.

  For the first time in several days, she thought that she had spotted Roderick and began walking toward the crumpled figure. It lay just beyond the threshold of a raging storm. Without intervention, the storm would certainly swallow the Runner. She had to act quickly, grab the motionless body, and catch the wind before the core of the storm caught her. If she waited even a few moments too long, she would find herself thrown into the hard, rocky earth not long after liftoff. Thanks to Rocky’s modifications, her storm sail could now haul two people. He had re-engineered it to carry more weight just before Miss had set out to look for Roderick.

  With the storm on her heels, there was no time to worry about whether or not the Runner was Roderick. As she approached the body, she noticed a great deal of dried blood mixed with the dirt in pools of darkened mud. The wound was fresh enough that the earth had not gobbled up the moisture greedily. There was a large hole in the person’s EnViro suit. It was obvious to anyone who had engaged in EnViro Suit combat that the hole had come from a blade, probably a Rih blade.

  Rescuing a Runner was sometimes beneficial to the Children of Gaia. Some Runners hated the cities and would do anything to see them destroyed. Even if they weren’t interested in joining the COG, they would usually be happy to live in Atlantis base as opposed to continuing their Runner career. So, bringing back a Runner usually meant, if nothing else, more parts for the COG’s arsenal.

  The problem was, a lot of the Runners were violent criminals. Miss, on more than one occasion, had needed to kill some of the fuckers after they decided that she was nothing more than a weak female and wanted to take advantage. Little did the arrogant pigs know that Miss’s ability to sail storms wasn’t the only reason she was second in command. But, her notoriety only extended to Atlantis base and so she had to be wary of each new Runner she encountered.

  She shook the motionless body and tried to turn it over. This Runner wasn’t stupid; he had managed to dig himself down into the ground a few dozen centimeters and lay face down in the hole. It was a wonder she had spotted it. The Runner probably hoped it would protect them from the passing storm; it was a desperate move, but not an entirely stupid one. There was a small chance they would survive that way, very small, but still a chance, assuming the Runner didn't bleed to death.

  With the body turned over, Miss could tell right away that it wasn’t Roderick. The EnViro suit contained none of the markings or symbols that the Children of Gaia painted on theirs. Roderick had numerous symbols up and down his suit but this suit, though worn, was mostly just standard issue. Aside from a few decal stickers that Miss didn’t recognize, the suit was mostly plain. This Runner had made no modifications to its suit, probably wasn’t allowed to. He had to be from Manhatsten, the COG was currently only tracking Manhatsten and Saud in the area, and the Rih wore those ridiculous solar capes; this runner wore no such cape.

  “Hey, can you hear me? We got to get out of here?” She nudged the Runner with the side of her boot. She gripped her long knife with her left hand, considering the amount of blood everywhere it was doubtful this one would try anything, but she always liked to be cautious.

  A groan escaped the Runner's lips. Through the storm, it was barely audible over the external speakers, but it was a response. The Runner would need medical attention as soon as they found shelter. Luckily, she had a few regen patches on her, though she wasn’t sure if it might be too late for that.

  The Runner squirmed a little and tried to push himself up out of his little hole, but he was barely able to budge. The crumpled body shook. Miss knew that was a really bad sign. She considered the blood on the ground again. It occurred to her that this Runner might not make it anyway and that maybe she should turn and go while she still could. But, she hated to leave a wounded person behind, after all, Roderick had not left her behind.

  “Come on; we have to find shelter. That storm’s going to be on us in seconds. Can you stand?”

  Again, only a barely audible groan, but this time the Runner pushed himself up to a sitting position, and that was enough. She could see the Runner was a man. She had seen that face somewhere before, but now wasn’t the time to worry about it. Miss grabbed him under the arms and pulled him the rest of the way up. She quickly mounted the Runner to her makeshift harness that Rocky had designed for Roderick, and she felt the straps click into place.

  Her storm sail deployed. It wasn’t going to be easy to take off with the extra weight, but it wouldn’t be the first time she had to do something like this. She had been on search and rescue detail after the battle of Langeles, and with Rocky’s modifications had managed to grab a half-dozen men before a storm had hit the ruins.

  The wind caught the storm sail, and she leaned a little to the left, testing the tension of the wind, feeling for the correct pressure on her sail. She lifted her grappling hook with her left hand. Rocky had modified it to shoot as kind of kite/parachute that would catch the wind for initial lift off. The torque when it caught storm winds was incredible. The first time she had used it, she had dislocated her right shoulder, and it had almost killed her. When she got back to base, she broke Rocky’s nose for the what she thought was a poor design. Later, though, she realized there was no other way for the device to work, it was that torque that provided the initial lift necessary to get her moving.

  Her line yanked hard and coupled with her boosters it pulled both of them upward with a hard jerk. If she weren’t careful, she would have whiplash from takeoff, but over the years she had learned how to loop the line around her body in a way that prevented that. They began to sail up into the storm. The Runner she carried grew much lighter as the storm lifted them both and s
he began gliding around its edges like a surfer catching the crest of the wave. The difference between Miss and a surfer was that there was no wiping out, no falling back into the crest of the storm, that way meant only death.

  When Roderick had first seen what Miss could do, he had commissioned her to train several of his best in an attempt to form a kind of aerial attack unit. He had thought that this would provide an amazing advantage for attacking cities. Miss had tried to train others how to ride the storms, but over and over, they kept dying. Even some of the most promising individuals made small and foolish mistakes that had ended their lives. After twenty-three others had lost their lives during training, Roderick had called it off. He had even suggested to Miss that she give up storm sailing because it seemed to be only a matter of time ‘til it caught up with her. She had returned the suggestion with nothing but an icy stare. Roderick had never brought up the subject again. Miss was relatively free to do as she wished, largely because Roderick didn’t want to end up with a broken nose, and also it was because she was good at what she did.

  The air pressure changed suddenly, and the sail buckled. It sent the two of them spinning ‘round in circles. They were descending fast. Miss twisted her body and the handles to the right and into the spin. She spun both their bodies around several times in a barrel roll and then gradually the spin lost its momentum in the face of gravity. She shifted her sail with her left arm to catch the wind from a different direction and turned herself back up to face into the storm. She was going backward now, but she had some semblance of control. Now the tricky part, she had to disengage the sails just for a few seconds so she could drop, turn, and catch the updraft of the storm to right herself.