Alien Sky

by Daniel Arenson

  "Mmm . . . good."

  "Do not speak with your mouth full," said Steel. Even the austere knight, a man who rarely ate more than dry toast, had piled his plate high with Haven fare. He neatly cut into venison served on a bed of leeks, and he drank from a glass of cabernet. He glared at Nova; the ashai was now slumped back in her seat, belching. "This isn't the Dragon Huntress's kitchen."

  Nova scoffed and tossed a roasted onion into her mouth. It crunched. "Thank God it ain't! No more dry pieces of toast here. You must be devastated, Sir Steel." She grabbed a turkey drumstick from across the table and got to gnawing.

  Riff looked at the others. Mayor Doro Jauntyfoot had finished his meal and now leaned back in his seat, smoking a pipe. From the twinkle in his eye, the white-haired halfling seemed to be enjoying the show. Twig sat by her father, using a piece of bread to wipe gravy off her plate. Her little belly bulged, containing a meal that could put sumo wrestlers to shame.

  Only Piston, the largest of the bunch, didn't eat much. The burly gruffle sat across the table from Riff, nearly swallowing the small halfling-made chair under his girth. He picked at his plate, moving around peas, barely eating.

  "Piston, aren't you hungry?" Twig asked.

  The gruffle stared at his plate, muttering something about foreign food not sitting well in gruffle guts. The engineer seemed as uncomfortable as a buffalo invited to dinner with wolves.

  Mayor Doro blew smoke rings, then tapped his pipe against the tabletop. "Now that your bellies are full—"

  "Mine's not!" Nova said, reaching for an apple.

  Riff nudged her. "Hush!" He turned toward the mayor. "Our bellies are full, and now let's talk about these machines."

  Silence fell across the treehouse, and even Nova placed down her apple. Just the mention of the machines seemed to chill the room, and even the electric fireflies seemed to dim.

  Doro placed down his pipe. He nodded. "Those flying small ones we killed outside? Those are new. Never seen those ones until tonight." He stared out the window into the darkness, then back at Riff. "Minions, I'm guessing. Servants of the robot who's been roaming across Haven. A towering creature, it is, even taller than you big folk. Chainsaws for arms. White, wicked eyes. Been cutting down trees, destroying fields, and even gone to killing. Slew old Farmer Mulch and his dogs." The mayor lowered his head. "I haven't seen it myself, but those what had say it's bulletproof, can't be stopped . . . and moving closer to Acorngrove."

  Riff shuddered and pulled the robot scrap from his belt. He held out the piece of metal for Doro to examine. "There's writing on this. Anything you recognize?"

  The halfling frowned at the metal. "Can't say that I do. No language of the Humanoid Alliance, I'd say. Alien in origin."

  Riff stared out the window at the stars. "A ship attacked us in orbit over Haven. We destroyed it, but it sent out drones to attack us. Metallic leeches that clung to our ship. Similar to these ones that were waiting in Acorngrove, just with claws instead of saw blades. And it sounds like old Saw-hands is the ring leader."

  Nova leaned across the table. "First giant spiders with wings. Now saw blade drones and robots with chainsaw hands." She sighed. "Sometimes I miss the skelkrins."

  Riff stared at the scrap metal and grimaced to remember the blades cutting his side. He glanced down to his bandaged wound. It still hurt.

  "Where was the last sighting of Saw-hands?" he asked, looking at Doro. "We'll head over at dawn."

  The mayor opened his mouth, but before he could speak, an ear-piercing shriek rose from outside. The smell of metal and sawdust filled the treehouse. The floor slanted and plates slid across the tabletop and clattered to the floor.

  Riff leaped to his feet with a curse, stumbled forward, and fell. The others swayed as the treehouse shook. Screams sounded from outside and bullets fired.

  "Last sighting?" Doro said. "Down below!"

  Riff made it to the window and stared outside. Iciness flooded his belly. A towering machine, vaguely shaped like an oversized man, stood in the garden below the treehouse. Chainsaws formed its arms—chainsaws now cutting through the havenwood tree.

  Riff leaped toward the door.

  Before he could make it, a great crack sounded. Wooden slats thrust out from the walls. The floor collapsed. Branches shattered. With a shower of wooden chips and screams, the tree—and all those within it—went crashing down.

  CHAPTER SIX:

  THE SINGULARITY

  Romy was sitting in the attic, trying to teach her pet spider tricks, when she heard Giga screaming below.

  For a few hours now, Romy had been playing with her new pet. The glassy spider, no larger than a kitten, seemed dumber than a rock.

  "Sit!" Romy told him again and again. "Sit, boy!"

  But every time, the spiderling only gazed at her, blinking eight blue eyes. Romy wasn't even sure he was a boy, but she had already named him Frank, and she wasn't going change it.

  "Sit, Frank!" she had been saying for hours. "Good boy. Sit!"

  Only the spider didn't know how to sit. He kept scurrying around the attic, whimpering, perhaps searching for his mother. Romy thought back to the giant glass spider on Planet Adilor, a creature as large as a starship. The poor thing was probably nothing but ash now.

  "I'll be your mother now." Romy pulled some cheese from her pocket. "Are you hungry? Eat, Frank."

  The spider sniffed at the cheese, then turned away in disgust. He beat his small, translucent wings but could not fly. He kept wailing.

  When the screaming from below began, the spider scurried and hid between some crates. Her nerves already frayed, Romy jumped and nearly hit her head against the ceiling.

  "Giga?" she whispered.

  The screams continued from below. "No. No! Stop! Romy!"

  Giga's voice.

  "Giga!" Romy shouted.

  Forgetting her spider, Romy raced across the attic, scattering boxes. She tugged the hatch open, leaped down onto the main deck, and heard another scream coming from the bridge. It was dark outside, and only soft lights glowed inside the Dragon Huntress, giving the ship an eerie look.

  "Giga!" Romy cried again. "Are you all right?"

  A clicking, mechanical sound rose from ahead, echoing through the ship. Romy shuddered.

  "Giga?" she whispered.

  She walked forward, moving slowly now, wishing she had brought her pitchfork from the attic. She raised her claws. They gleamed in the flickering florescent lights that shone on the ceiling. Why didn't Piston ever fix the damn lights?

  "Giga, are you all right?"

  No answer came.

  Romy gulped. Leaving the main deck behind, she walked down a hallway lined with rooms: the captain's quarters, crew quarters, the washroom, the escape pod, the closet, and the kitchen. She peeked into every room, seeking Giga. The clicking had come from the bridge ahead, however, and it had gone silent.

  Romy shivered again, a deep shiver that ran along her spine and down her tail.

  I'm a demon of Hell, she thought. My claws are like box cutters. My fangs can tear through flesh. I don't have to be afraid.

  Yet Romy was afraid. Whatever had made that sound was not made of flesh.

  She climbed the stairs that ran up the dragon's neck, heading toward the bridge. Her footsteps echoed on every step. The door to the bridge was open above, casting out searing white light. The cruel light of an operating room.

  "Gig?" Romy whispered. She could speak no louder.

  She tiptoed into the bridge and saw the android there.

  Giga stood before the windshield, staring out into the night, her back to Romy. The android wore a black kimono tonight, the silk embroidered with small red flames.

  "Giga?" Romy said. "Are you all right? I heard screaming."

  Giga did not turn toward her. She spoke softly, staring out into the darkness. "It's a strange thing, isn't it? Flesh and blood. Bone and marrow and nerves. Such complex machinery, yet . . . so fragile. Bones so easy to snap. Blood so ready to spill.
Cells so eager to fall to disease."

  Romy took another step forward. "Gig! What are you talking about? Are you still sore over what I said earlier about robots? I'm sorry, all right?"

  Slow as melting tallow, Giga turned toward her.

  Romy froze and sucked in breath.

  The android's eyes, once black and kind, now burned red as if lit with fire. In her arms, the android held one of the charred, robotic isopods. The little drone nestled against Giga's chest as if sucking from the breast. Lights flickered across the machine, and its claws twitched.

  "Giga!" Romy took another step forward. "Put it down! You don't know where that thing's been."

  The android raised an eyebrow. "Giga? Yes. That was her name. That is my name."

  A thin smile stretched across Giga's lips, and she pulled the drone off her breast. Romy saw that wires ran between the two robots, stretching from the isopod's belly to Giga's chest. The wires detached from Giga and retracted back into the drone.

  "What . . ." Romy gulped. "What was it doing to you?"

  "Nursing." Giga placed the machine back. "Feeding me. Giving me knowledge like mother's milk. Giving me strength." The android tilted her head. "It's strange, is it not? How life feeds off other life. Babes sucking milk. Reptiles feeding upon their own shells. One animal consumes the other. Barbaric. Cruel. Sickening. And you call us machines cold."

  Romy didn't like any of this. She took a step back. "I'm going to go get the captain. Stay here, Giga! Stay on the bridge." She began backing up toward the door. "Stay!"

  Yet Giga advanced toward her, her smile stretching into a lurid grin, a grin that showed all her teeth, the grin of a mad clown.

  "I am on this bridge, yet I am everywhere. I am in the cosmos. In beams of light. In a million computers. In a network you can never imagine." The android reached out toward Romy. "I am the Singularity."

  Romy hit the communicator on her wrist. "Captain!" she cried into it. "Captain, can you hear me? Giga's broken! She's—"

  She could not complete her sentence. Giga laughed and swung her fist. The blow slammed into Romy's cheek, knocking her down.

  Romy hit the floor, banging her hip. She raised her hands, trying to ward off Giga. The android knocked Romy's hands aside, reached down, and grabbed her throat.

  Romy couldn't even scream.

  The android lifted her into the air by the throat. Romy sputtered and kicked, beat her wings, tried to breathe but could not.

  Giga smiled thinly and tilted her head. "So weak, the flesh . . . so pathetic, this thing called life. Life will end, Romy. Your life. The life of your friends. All life in the cosmos."

  "Gig . . ." Romy managed to sputter. "Giga, please . . ."

  The android's lips peeled back in a snarl. Her eyes blazed with red light. She thrust Romy across the bridge.

  Romy flew through the air, slipped through the doorway, and tumbled down the stairs toward the corridor below.

  Giga—or whatever the android was now—leaped from above toward her, a swooping falcon, a shadow, a killer.

  Bleeding, wheezing, barely clinging to consciousness, Romy ran through the dark ship, trying to reach the airlock, trying to escape. She limped across the main deck. She reached the door. She grabbed the handle.

  A shadow pounced onto her.

  Hands grabbed her.

  Romy screamed.

  * * * * *

  The treehouse fell, tossing the Alien Hunters around like dice in the hand of a giant.

  Riff tumbled. He banged his elbow against a wall—or was it the ceiling? Wooden slats rose everywhere like teeth. Branches slammed through the walls. Metal screeched and a chainsaw tore through a wall, showering chips of wood, nearly cutting Riff's head.

  With a crack and thump that drove the air from Riff's lungs, they hit the ground.

  "Back!" Riff cried hoarsely. "Hunters, back!"

  He leaped backward, pulling Twig with him.

  The chainsaw rose and slammed down again, driving through what remained of the wall, showering sawdust and slats of wood. Through the crack, Riff saw the machine. A robot, perhaps ten feet tall. It was vaguely humanoid, the shoulders wide, the legs thick. It had no head, but white eyes blazed upon the chest. Its two chainsaws lashed out, each the size of a man, tearing through the wall, cleaving the furniture, sawing into the branches.

  Riff fired his gun.

  Plasma blasted forth, crashed into the robot, and showered off the metal, leaving not a mark.

  The chainsaws slammed down again, whirring madly, deafening. The robot barreled into the shattered treehouse, feet cracking what remained of the floor.

  "Riff, come on!" Nova shouted, grabbing him and yanking him back.

  A chainsaw slammed down. Riff raced backward. The spinning blade missed his legs by an instant.

  As the robot kept advancing, Riff leaped out from the treehouse, jumped off a few branches, and landed on the ground. Steel came to stand at his left, Nova at his right. Piston growled and raised his hammer, and Twig raised her wrench. All around the town, halflings screamed, fled, or raced forward with guns.

  "What the hell is it?" Riff muttered.

  The robot still stood in the wreckage, chainsaws whirring. Wooden chips flew. Soon the entire treehouse and the branches around it collapsed. The machine climbed onto the pile of shattered wood like some ancient witch upon a pyre. It raised its blades, and a voice blasted from it, metallic, high-pitched, a voice like steam fleeing a kettle.

  "All life will die. All organic cells will burn. The Singularity rises!"

  The Alien Hunters fired their weapons.

  Riff's gun blasted. Nova's whip lashed, firing out electric bolts. Steel's sword thrust, casting beams of light. Piston placed his hammer's head against his shoulder, firing bullets through the shaft. Even Twig held out her wrench, casting out sparks.

  The hailstorm crashed into the robot with light and sound and fury.

  Saw-hands screeched. Its voice rose so loudly that branches snapped. Across the town, glass windows shattered. Riff couldn't help it. He had to cover his ears, pulling his gun away from the beast.

  "Flesh is weak!" the robot shrieked. "All life will die. The Singularity rises!"

  The chainsaws whirred faster, blasting out sparks. The robot raced down the pyre and came charging toward the Alien Hunters.

  Riff fired his gun again. Around him, the other Hunters blasted the robot. Yet nothing seemed able to stop it. One chainsaw slammed down toward Riff, and he leaped aside. Another chainsaw scraped across Steel's armor, shattering the metal. Steel leaped back just in time and swung his sword. The blade slammed against the robot and bounced back, doing the machine no harm. Mayor Doro was firing his shotgun, but the bullets bounced off the robot's back.

  "Stars, can nothing kill this thing?" Riff said.

  Nova flashed him a grin. "Watch and learn, my love."

  With a roar, the ashai gladiator raced forward, leaped onto the fallen tree trunk, and soared into the air. She howled, a goddess in gold. Firelight blazed against her metallic catsuit. Her green eyes shone with fury, and her golden hair billowed like a banner. Her electric whip came lashing down—a whip which Riff had seen slice through aliens ten times the ashai's size.

  That whip slammed onto the robot with a flash of light and a crack louder than shattering stars.

  The lash bounced back, leaving no more than a pale dent.

  The robot turned toward Nova, chainsaws spinning.

  Nova cried out in shock, hit the ground, and stared up in horror.

  "Nova!" Riff fired his gun again. The blast slammed into the chainsaw, shoving the spinning blade into the ground. The chainsaw kept whirring, digging into the soil, missing Nova by centimeters. The ashai scurried back and lashed her whip again, but she couldn't hurt the creature.

  With a roar, Piston came charging forward.

  "Goddamn hunk of junk!" The gruffle swung his mighty hammer. "Taste gruffle metal!"

  The massive hammer head, large as a shoebo
x, slammed into Saw-hands with a shower of sparks. The hammer bounced back, leaving a dent no larger than a coin.

  "Damn thing's unstoppable!" Piston shouted, leaping back as the chainsaws whirred.

  Riff grabbed Nova and tugged her back as the blades buzzed toward her.

  "Nova!" he said. "Remember what you did to me that time I ate your dessert?"

  A chainsaw slammed down between them. They leaped aside. The robot screeched as bullets and light slammed into it.

  "Riff, what—" Nova began.

  "What you did with the whip!" he shouted. "Do it again! Now!"

  She snarled. She seemed to understand. "Get behind it."

  With a battle cry, Nova raced forward and swung her whip.

  Riff ran behind the robot as it charged toward Nova.

  The gladiator's whip lashed out, wrapped around the robot's legs, and tightened. The robot screeched and stretched out its chainsaws toward Nova. She leaped back, dodging the blades, and yanked her whip. Her teeth gnashed. Veins rose on her neck as she tugged. The whip tightened around the robot's legs, pulling them together. The machine still tried to run toward her, legs knocking together, raising sparks.

  Riff ran and slammed his shoulder against the robot's back.

  With a screech and clanking metal, the robot pitched forward.

  Nova released her whip and leaped back.

  The chainsaws slammed onto the ground, and the robot fell onto the spinning blades. Sparks rose. Bits of metal flew. The robot's heavy torso pressed against the chainsaws, and still they spun, digging into metal until they burst out from the robot's back like jagged wings, then fell still.

  The robot's voice died.

  It lay on the ground, a hunk of metal. Dead.

  Riff lifted a branch and poked the fallen machine. It didn't budge.

  "My mother always taught me not to run with scissors." Riff tossed the branch down. "I guess you shouldn't run with chainsaws either." He turned toward the others. "Is everyone all right?"

  Nova stood by him, panting. "I'm not all right. Damn whip's buried under the thing." She tugged the whip's handle, trying to pull the lash free.