Ancestral Machines

by Michael Cobley

  Akreen smiled. The main portal gate was sheltered in a semi-open facility between the capital city, Lantomar, and the nearby launch complex. It would be simplicity itself for him to get private and secure access to the gate for a limited period. He felt Gredaz’s approval as he envisioned the gate facility and how he would place his guards…

  One of the bridge officers approached with the latest batch of status summaries for his perusal, and the news that they were less than twenty drel from attaining orbit around Armag.

  “Good,” he said. “Signal our position to the Shuskar command hub, then be attentive in awaiting their reply. We must be ready to respond with alacrity to our masters’ orders.”

  At least for the time being. The sooner this assignment is over, the sooner I can repair to Drevaul and use the portal gate there.

  Unsure of how to crash the party, Sam Brock had held back in the shadowy undergrowth until the meeting between the rebel Chainer leaders was under way. Now that it was, her initial reluctance to make her presence known was looking like a smart move. Hanging back, she could listen in and make sure she was catching the sense of their conversation.

  “And so we go around and around the matter, like cherliss yearlings pecking at the murrif but unable to get a firm grip,” T’Loskin Rey was saying with undisguised acrimony. “The Shuskar have killed us, enslaved us, tortured us, humiliated us, stolen our children, twisted their blood and flesh and sent them back to us as our brutish overlords–their crimes against us and all the racelines of the Warcage are beyond the counting, are in fact piled up into mountain ranges of horror and suffering and agony. Every single Shuskar alive today carries the burden of those crimes and they must all pay down to the last drop of blood. How can we rebuild all these worlds… how can we hope to lay down the foundations of a new sane future while any number of our former captors, our former tormentors, remain alive? Should we succeed, many millions will still have to live with the scars and the memories of what they have suffered–with the Shuskar expunged from the Warcage the future will at least be cleansed of their poisonous presence.”

  Five figures sat around a burning wood fire. T’Loskin Rey was flanked by two brawny companions, all in body armour that was a patchwork of leather and fibreplate, while G’Brozen Mav seemed only to be wearing ordinary clothes with a bulky overcoat. His companion, a diminutive humanoid, was garbed head to foot in a concealing hooded robe. When T’Loskin Rey was finished speaking, he leaned back, arms crossed defiantly. G’Brozen Mav shook his head.

  “What you demand is nothing more or less than the triumph of slaughter in the name of vengeance. Blood-drenched murder is their hallmark, their habitual trait, yet you would see it perpetuated in the name of the dead in all their generations. And why stop there? After all, the Shuskar could not and did not impose their savage will upon the worlds of the Chains by themselves–they needed helpers and allies and willing pawns, so from your perspective we should go from world to world, rounding up anyone who fought in a bout-army or performed a tour of duty here, there or anywhere, and slay them. And what of the bureaucrats and quartermasters and fabrication techs? The weapons had to be made, lists had to be compiled, cargos arranged, approved, stamped and shipped, so are they any less guilty?” The Chainer leader smiled bleakly. “What would you rather be known as: liberator or executioner?”

  T’Loskin Rey was dismissive. “How many enemies are likely to die if the rebellion does succeed? I take no delight in the loss of life but we must fight or die in shackles. You spout hypocrisy if you imagine that our brute oppressors can somehow be bloodlessly overthrown.”

  “And if they know that there is no possibility of mercy there is little chance of their allies and garrisons surrendering,” G’Brozen Mav shot back. “The fighting will grind on and on and more lives will be lost than necessary. In fact, we might even find entire cities and worlds deciding to throw in their lot with the Shuskar if they know that we are resolved to carry out mass executions. I am not so naive as to think that the enemy’s strongholds can be taken without a shot fired, but your merciless stance will lead to blood and madness–what kind of future can be built on those foundations?”

  T’Loskin Rey laughed. “If only you knew how foolish you sound. We are already living in an age of blood and madness! We are up to our necks in it. The Shuskar have watered the soil of scores of worlds with the blood of their inhabitants for centuries. It is a crime that goes beyond the simple pains and drama of ordinary life but instead encompasses, suffocates, each and every one of us. They must be expunged, removed from the horizons of all our lives if we intend to breathe clean air again.” He pointed across the campfire. “You are the one who is out of step–this is something that is commonly accepted.”

  “By whom? The local Chainer rebel groups on Pamary and Othunex? Wait, didn’t they reject your attempt to replace their leaders with officers drawn from your own circle of lackeys?”

  “That was a misunderstanding, as you full well know.”

  G’Brozen Mav stood. “Perhaps, but there was no misunderstanding when you had Khorr abduct me and my staff then maroon us on that poisonous ruin of a world.”

  T’Loskin Rey shrugged and got to his feet. “But you wouldn’t listen. You didn’t listen to me then and you’re not listening now. Among the sentiments and instincts of the oppressed there is neither the room nor the patience for mercy. You were seen as weak and I was seen as strong, thus the roles were altered—”

  “And how will they see you when Shuskar transports descend from the sky and disgorge thousands of Avang upon us?”

  T’Loskin gave him a narrow-eyed glare. “What desperate ploy is this? What can you hope to gain by peddling such disruptive lies?”

  “They are not lies!” G’Brozen Mav said hotly. “While we were marooned on that planet, a fortunate opportunity brought a spacegoing vessel into our possession which is how we were able to return to the Warcage and make contact with you. Its systems allowed us to overhear messages between the Shuskar Gun-Lords and their subordinates, and they have ordered a small fleet of ships laden with Avang infantry to Armag with the aim of putting down the rebellion.” He gave a dismissive wave. “But disregard this as you like–we will depart this vicinity and pick up the pieces once the slaughter is done.”

  “Lies, brazen lies, fabulous lies! Go on, walk away and take your lies with you…”

  And this is where I come in, Sam Brock thought as she activated Rensik’s personal shield and stepped forward, making the bushes rustle as she emerged into the firelight. Eyes widened and weapons were brought out and aimed in her direction. Smiling, Sam raised open, empty hands.

  “Who are you?” said T’Loskin Rey.

  “Please, gentlemen, I am no threat to any of you. My name is Samantha Brock, and I am an officer in the military forces of the Earthsphere Alliance—”

  “What is an Urzfear?” broke in G’Brozen Mav.

  “Earthsphere, a civilisation whose border is not far from here,” she said calmly. “My superiors are very concerned about this Warcage, and I have been sent to offer help and advice. I and… another companion have been studying all these worlds and your rulers, the Shuskar–and I can safely say that they’re probably the most vicious, depraved gang of bloodsucking psychopaths I’ve ever come across. What little history we’ve gathered suggests that they have butchered their way through entire stellar regions, so we’re here to make sure that they do not commit the same atrocities in this part of the galaxy.”

  The aimed guns didn’t waver, although frowns now accompanied the stares regarding her.

  “You said there were two of you?” said T’Loskin Rey. “Just two?”

  “That is correct, sir.”

  “What kind of help and advice?” said G’Brozen Mav. “Ships? Guns? Troops?”

  “Information,” she said. “We can tap into all Shuskar communications and help you stay ahead of their strategies.”

  G’Brozen Mav exchanged a wary look with T’Loskin Rey
but before either could speak, the hooded figure next to the former raised an odd, swaddled hand.

  “May I ask–are you wearing an armourveil?”

  She regarded the diminutive figure with curiosity. “I am wearing a personal defence shield, if that’s what you mean. And who are you?”

  “I am Toolbearer Hechec,” the small hooded person said. “Forgive me if my query was lacking in courtesy–it is just that we have only heard of such things in our oldest historical records, which themselves are scarce and incomplete. Your civilisation must be very advanced.”

  “Earthsphere has collaborated with some very innovative allies,” she said, trying to sound neither pompous nor opaque. “My companion and I are operating under certain restrictions, which curtail the kind of aid we can offer—”

  “So what kind of information do you have to offer?” T’Loskin Rey said impatiently, still standing with his slug weapon aimed at her midsection. “I should warn you that it will have to be exceptional to overcome even the least of my suspicions.”

  Sam nodded. “You are right to demand assurances. Well, to begin with, I happen to know the identity of the outsiders from whom G’Brozen Mav acquired his new ship.” She turned to the other Chainer leader. “The bold Captain Pyke and his subordinates were the original crew, I believe.”

  G’Brozen Mav was staring at her with a mixture of astonishment and irritation but before he could speak T’Loskin Rey laughed out loud.

  “So that’s why Pyke was on that harvested world,” he said, unable to keep from grinning at G’Brozen Mav. “He was abandoned there… by you!”

  The bearded Chainer leader gritted his teeth. “Because I had to get back here to stop you from leading my men into a disaster!”

  “What? The disaster to be delivered by your imaginary enemy ships?”

  “I’m afraid that G’Brozen Mav is quite correct, sir,” Sam told T’Loskin Rey. “Less than nine hours ago the Shuskar high command ordered three troopships to launch from a world called Venstak and head for Armag. However, my companion left here over six hours ago on a mission to sabotage those ships’ navigation systems and delay their arrival.” She glanced up at the night sky. “Which he seems to have achieved so far, buying us some time.”

  “How much time?” said T’Loskin Rey.

  She turned to regard him. “Hard to say. I’m curious to know how you intended your rebellion to progress in the face of the ships that the Shuskar would inevitably send against you… but there is another mystery I’d like to solve first. You said ‘that’s why Pyke was on that harvested world’, which implies that you have encountered this man Pyke very recently. If so, do you know where he is now?”

  “What is your interest in him? Are you allied to him in some way?”

  “Not at all,” she said. “My concern is that clumsy actions on his part may jeopardise our joint endeavours.”

  T’Loskin Rey was silent for a moment then shrugged. “I have a spy among the senior ranks of the enemy–he sent Pyke to me, explaining that this Human and his crew were skilled at sabotage and shadow operations, making them ideal for an infiltration assault on the Lord-Governor’s tower. I guided them through the outskirts of one of the dead cities and passed them on to Vralko, a local Chainer veteran who said he could get them past the security boundaries, into Armag City then inside the tower. I took it for granted that they would know how to turn the tower’s interior to their advantage while hunting down the noble Lord Gyr-Matu.”

  “And who is your spy?” said G’Brozen Mav. “It’s Khorr, is it not? The two-faced snake you paid to trick us into the portal and leave us on that toxic slagheap of a planet! He also happens to be spying on us for the Shuskar, you imbecile!”

  T’Loskin Rey looked about to leap into angry denial, but Sam got there first.

  “Wait, wait!” said Sam. “You mean, Pyke and his crew are inside Armag City as we speak, carrying out this mission?”

  Still glaring at G’Brozen Mav, T’Loskin Rey nodded. “They should be at the tower by now–Vralko still has many contacts in the city so keeping them out of sight wouldn’t be a problem.”

  “I’m afraid that may not be the case, honoured Rey,” said Toolbearer Hechec, his hooded features inclined towards a half-visible device held in a cloth-swathed grip. “I am receiving updates from our shipboard sensor arrays, one of which is focused on collecting messages between the Shuskar and their subordinate units and commanders. This latest is an acknowledgement sent to Xra-Huld, one of the Gun-Lords, from the Urtesh, a Zavri ship. It reads–‘On Armag approach, landing at tower in ten drel, pursuit immediate–Eternal loyalty–Akreen.’” Hechec tapped the device with something hard and unseen. “In your human scale, ten drel corresponds to approximately sixteen minutes, and this communication was gathered just a minute or two ago. Akreen is the First Blade of the Zavri Battalion.”

  “What does that mean?” Sam said.

  G’Brozen Mav looked sombre. “The Zavri are a race of supreme warriors, and their loyalty to the Shuskar is unquestioned. Pyke and his crew will be outnumbered and greatly outskilled, but I suspect that Khorr, and the Gun-Lord Xra-Huld, want them captured alive–Xra-Huld would then parade them on screens all across the Warcage, accuse the Chainers of colluding with vile outsiders bent on enslaving every inhabitant of every world. Yes, despite the systematic slavery we already suffer, you can be certain that the Shuskar would cast up a wave of fabulous lies.”

  “Such a froth of speculation,” said T’Loskin Rey. “We should keep our minds tied to real situations.”

  “Like this assault force being sent after Pyke and his people?” said Sam, unable to dampen her irritation at the Chainer leader. “It is conceivable that your agent, this Khorr, passed on to his Shuskar superiors information about Pyke’s mission… and why would he assent to taking part in such a risky venture in the first place? He’s actually a border smuggler, from data we’ve gathered—”

  Suddenly G’Brozen Mav, who had all this time been keeping his handgun aimed at Sam’s midriff, suddenly swung the weapon round to point at T’Loskin Rey.

  “Khorr is the enemy’s spy in your ranks,” he said. “Your negligence, and your incompetence has put all the Chainers on Armag at risk! The original insurgency plan included Chainer cadres travelling by portal from Demaal and Orasha, so if they are here the potential losses could be catastrophic.”

  T’Loskin Rey had likewise brought his gun round to aim at G’Brozen Mav, but something in his eyes shrank from the accusations. “This cannot be true–I am certain that Khorr is working for our side—”

  “Oh, it’s ‘our’ side now—”

  “With respect, gentlemen, we don’t have time for this,” Sam said. “This man Pyke and his companions are about to be caught in a trap then used as anti-outsider propaganda. Is there anything that can be done?”

  G’Brozen Mav shrugged. “We do have a ship. If I can contact one of our field commanders I might be able to persuade them to let us have a squad or two of raiders, then I can head for the Lord-Governor’s tower and pray I’m not too late. I owe Pyke that much.”

  Sam nodded. “I should like to accompany you, if that’s acceptable. First-hand experience of this situation is exactly what my mission requires.”

  “You are quite welcome to join us.”

  Just then, T’Loskin Rey holstered his sidearm, and without a word turned and began to walk away, followed by his subordinates.

  “And you are going where, exactly?” said G’Brozen Mav.

  “To ensure my Chainers do not die in vain,” was the flat reply.

  As the other Chainer leader departed, Sam felt deep misgivings and a panicky sense of failure, as if she’d let the encounter deteriorate beyond repair. The whole point of this was to get the two of them working together, she thought. Now look.

  But in the light of all that had come to the surface, any kind of collaboration now seemed very remote. Swiftly, she took out her comm device and keyed in a short message to Rensik,
explaining what had transpired and what she was about to do.

  “Not a surprise,” G’Brozen Mav said. “Rey is a very skilled field commander but wider strategy eludes him. And Khorr made a most convincing rebel.” He regarded Sam. “Am I right in thinking that your companion is actually your commanding officer?”

  “That is so.”

  “I look forward to meeting him–it should be instructive.”

  You have no idea, Sam thought as she followed the Chainer and the hooded Toolbearer away from the camp and uphill towards a wooded vale.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Pyke looked Kref up and down, struggling all the time not to guffaw out loud.

  “Y’know, Kref, old son–this whole adventure has been one long costume catwalk for ye, ain’t it?”

  The big Henkayan was covered from head to foot in a heavy brown robe with thick, ribbed seams. Baggy sleeves almost concealed Kref’s big gloved hands while a pair of boots poked out from beneath the robe’s ground-sweeping edge, a noticeable amount of which trailed behind him. The hood’s appearance seemed to mimic the rest of the bulky outfit, with an upper edge that drooped down like a lip, tapering lappets that dangled on either side and a rear flap that hung down to the middle of his back.

  “S’right, chief,” said Kref, voice slightly muffled by the halfmask which covered his mouth and nose. “This one’s pretty comfy, though. Smells better than the last one, too.”

  “Sure about that?” said Ancil. “What does it actually smell of?”

  The big robed shape gave a brief shrug. “Sort of like baked nuts, maybe.”

  Ancil, biting his bottom lip, shot a glance at Pyke who was throttling the urge to grin.

  “I guess it must be pretty warm under all that,” Ancil said. “Bet everything’s getting baked.”

  At this Kref tilted his head back to glare at Ancil. “Ah, funny, you’re dead funny, Ans. I can’t wait till we get to do a job on a planet full of big people, then I can say that you’re all my nephews from the mountains!” He chuckled deep in his chest, a throaty rumbling sound.