The Tea Machine

by Gill McKnight

  “No, no,” Kronos said and nodded at his men. Before Sangfroid could register what was happening, a guard snapped a heavy manacle around her ankle.

  “You’re not gonna ride on her,” Kronos continued. Sangfroid pulled at the iron chain attached to the manacle. It disappeared under the gate and into the pen. “You’re gonna partner her,” Kronos said, far too chirpily and swung the gate open wide. The chain led to a larger manacle around the elephant’s leg. “She’s gonna be your dead weight.”

  “What in Hades?” Sangfroid shouted. She couldn’t be expected to fight with a damned elephant chained to her leg! But Kronos was already walking away whistling a cheery tune.

  “She’s a good girl.” The guard told Sangfroid. “I liked her.” Sangfroid noticed the past tense. “She can be a bit stubborn at times. Tends to sulk.”

  “What do you call her?” Sangfroid asked. The information might be useful.

  “Aphrodite.”

  Aphrodite heard her name and trumpeted. She began to sway to and fro in her stall; the sudden movement yanked Sangfroid clear off her feet. She hit the floor with a thump that winded her completely.

  “She’s hungry is all.” The guard helped Sangfroid back up. “Starving in fact. They stop feeding the herbivores when they come down here. It’s not like they’re going to fight or anything. They’re just food for the predators. She’s been starved for days now,” he said sadly and opened the gate wider.

  Aphrodite slowly lumbered out into the corridor, and Sangfroid had to dodge out of the way before she was squashed against the wall. She got a much better look at Aphrodite once she was out of the stall. She was a large, adult-sized, bush elephant, and three of her limbs were organic, the last was skeletal metal with a piston knee in polished bronze. Her concave back was wrinkled and leathery but her sides bulged with the clockwork mechanisms that seemed to push along her digestive systems and somehow power her through various steam vents. Sangfroid was unsure exactly what she was looking at in the depths of her guts, but it creeped her out. Aphrodite’s metal tusks were her glory, long and curved and even in the dull light of the corridor Sangfroid could imagine how awe inspiring they would be polished to a high shine. Money had been spent on this creature’s creation. She was an expensive trinket, and Sangfroid wondered at the hedonism of an Emperor who could have such a magnificent beast built, only to cast it aside like some sacrificial gambit.

  “Come along now. There’s a good girl.” The guard began to herd Aphrodite along the corridor, encouraging her to follow the other animals. Sangfroid had no choice but to keep up. And quickly. One step for Aphrodite was three for her, despite her long legs.

  They blundered up through a maze of lower corridors, following the herd of pitiful animals until they emerged into a long, wide tunnel. The gates at one end lay open and the noise from outside was terrifying. Felons were being pushed out into the arena. Sangfroid could see their stunned faces as the noise hit them almost as hard as the sunlight after days in darkness. Then the animals came bowling out after them, terrified and skittish, crushing anyone too slow to get out of their way.

  Aphrodite smelled the fresh air, her trunk lifted and waved from side to side scoping out the breeze, and then she was off, moving quickly towards the gates. The noise did not unnerve her as much as it did Sangfroid, and she wondered at the clarity of the elephant’s hearing. They were the last to leave the tunnel and enter the arena. Sangfroid felt physically assaulted by the electric atmosphere. Half the city had turned out for the spectacle, and the crowds rose, tier upon tier all around her. Their roaring was stupendous.

  The sand bowl they were to fight in was all heat and dust, and she had to pull air hard into her lungs to breath. The light was intense after the gloom of the tunnel, and this, more than the gigantic roar that greeted her entry, spooked Aphrodite into a stampede. Sangfroid had to sprint to stay alongside her. Aphrodite barrelled through the throng, smacking into several horses and a camel. Felons were flung sideways by her, and an unfortunate ox ended up on its snout before the elephant came to an exhausted halt. The living parts of her hung slack on her frame and Sangfroid could see in the clear daylight just how famished and weak she was. In fact, all the animals looked as failed as the criminals. She was standing shoulder to shoulder with the dregs of the Empire.

  On the far side of the arena, other fighters were making a grander entrance. These were true warriors, tall and fit and well equipped. Sangfroid squinted at them, her eyes aching with the glare bouncing off their armour. Amazons! The breath caught in her throat at seeing this long extinct, legendary tribe. They were giantesses, graceful and strong, and as dusky as the hills of their homeland. Sunlight spilled off their helmets and breastplates. Their weapons and teeth flashed as they paraded before their audience, and in response the crowd screamed out its appreciation. There were only a half dozen or so Amazons, but their bravado filled the arena so it felt like there were a million of them.

  Sangfroid noted the Amazons were chained to each other at the ankle. What was it with Kronos and chains? Couldn’t he let people just get on with it and fight? And why were the Amazons even here? Surely they were meant to fight beasts, not Amazons? She hoped so; she’d rather face a steam lion than an Amazon any day.

  A third gate crashed open, dragging her attention away from the Amazons. This gate stood midway between the other two gates where Sangfroid and the Amazons had each entered. Out spilled a riot of keening, howling beasts. Lions and bears. Tigers and wolves. Hyenas, bulls—anything with sharp horns and sharper teeth. The sun blazed off their clockwork engineering and skittered across the exposed gears and cogs that churned alongside the living tissue. The hides of these fantastical creatures had been flayed away to reveal bunched muscle and sinews, and the pumping pistons that gave the animals motion. Their jaundiced eyes, maddened by pain and hunger, took in all about them with sly cunning. Oily saliva dripped from mechanical jaws that snapped in calculated time and with vicious precision. It was as if Hades had vomited up every rabid, mutant mongrel ever conceived. Sangfroid’s blood ran cold. Time stood still for one chilling, hell-bent moment.

  And then the crowd went wild.

  CHAPTER 24

  The third gate crashed open, and the bowels of hell spewed forth. The man-eaters they were to fight were automatons! Millicent felt her knees give way and began to sink to the sand, only Gallo’s vice-like grip on her upper arm kept her upright, though at a severe list.

  In a fast, synchronized movement, unhindered by their chains, the Amazons formed a barrier in front of them, and she lost sight of Sangfroid, though the towering elephant indicated where she was in the fray. They had been in so many scrapes together, battling alongside each other, that now it felt strange for this gory arena to separate them. Millicent felt more exposed than ever not having Sangfroid with her. It should be her hands holding her up, her strength fortifying Millicent’s terror. Everything felt skewed and sinister. There was no control on this journey either in the way they had entered into it, or in how it would end. There was no Hubert on the other side to save them, and no Sangfroid beside her now. They were facing death alone, and this time there was no going back.

  “Remember,” Alkaia shouted over her shoulder, “your task is to keep your face attached to your skull. Anything, and by that I mean any man, beast, or automaton, comes near you, you kill it.”

  “You got it,” Gallo shouted back. Her eagerness astounded Millicent. Together they watched as the mechanical beasts spread out and plunged into the men and women on the far side of the arena. “Hey, half those poor bastards don’t even have weapons?” Gallo frowned, her rapture tainted. “That’s not very fair.”

  “I don’t think fairness is a concept of these games. I think the general idea is not so much to fight honourably as to die horribly,” Millicent said. Her trident felt alien in her hand, but at least she had a weapon. She had no idea how to use it, but in the screaming chaos ar
ound her, she realized she would have to. They were close to the arena walls and Millicent gave a sharp cry as a putrid orange hit her on the shoulder. Several more landed near her feet.

  “The crowd are pelting us with rotten fruit,” she cried in outrage. “As if life isn’t hard enough.”

  “They want us in the thick of it, not lurking back here,” said Gallo, ignoring the missiles hurled their way. The thick of it was now a morass of screaming felons and animals that the automatons were easily carving through.

  “Yooou’re shit. Yooou’re shit. Move your arse and take a hit.” The crowd chanted behind them.

  “Well, really.” Millicent was flabbergasted at their rudeness. “Do they not understand tactics? We do have a plan.”

  The bedlam before her was terrifying. Beyond her guard of Amazons, she could make out a huge lion crunching on the head of a prone man. Its metal teeth ground his skull to pulp in seconds. According to the bookmakers that was the favoured fate for her. She felt ill.

  Other felons fought to keep the beasts at bay with vain swipes of their swords and spears, their arms growing weaker and weaker and their parries less effective with each passing second. She saw several hyenas surround a man, dodging in and out, nipping and butting him as he spun with his short sword, trying to fend them off. It was an orchestrated game, and Millicent realized these creatures moved with a calculated cunning far beyond their normal nature. They were hardened to the arena and its means of providing food. They had developed new skills to bring down their quarry in this man-made feeding frenzy. And how much of that cunning had been pre-engineered through their mechanization?

  Beasts of various kinds were tearing into unprotected flesh. Some fed, but most were on a killing spree. The dead and dying lay scattered about as creatures abandoned their mauled victims to go after those still trying to flee. They enjoyed the chase more than the kill, crowding in on those who chose to stand and fight. They were merciless and slow to bring about the inevitable end.

  Two lions played tug of war, tearing their victim asunder. Horses and oxen, the easiest game of all, were dragged to the ground. A camel ran past with a tiger clawing at its back. The sandy arena floor became a mire with the blood and entrails poured onto it. Millicent looked for Sangfroid, but she was lost in the melee.

  “Kill the urn. Kill the urn. Cut her up and watch her burn.” The crowd flung out their new chant along with their pieces of rotten fruit. A tomato hit her between her shoulder blades.

  “They seem to particularly dislike you.” Gallo pointed out unnecessarily. “Must be a tea thing.”

  “More a tax thing. If they don’t shut up, I’ll throw this trident at them.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Gallo grinned. And again, Millicent couldn’t believe Gallo’s jubilation in the face of such awfulness. She was definitely a born warrior, and Millicent was glad to be chained to her.

  “Millicent! Millicent!” The call finally penetrated Millicent’s consciousness. “Yoo-hoo!”

  She squinted up into the hostile crowd, scouring the hordes sitting in the cheap seats. Suddenly, she picked out the worried face of Jana giving her the thumbs up with a grim little smile. In this setting, it was very heartening. She gave Jana a weak smile back and waved her trident. Jana pointed up to her left and then made a face. Millicent followed her gaze and saw Cybele sitting in a private box surrounded by her weak-chinned entourage.

  “Who’s that?” Gallo looked over at the box and its inhabitants.

  “No one important. Just the head heifer at the tea temple,” she said and turned back to the havoc at the far end of the arena. “Can you see Sangfroid?” she asked worriedly. “I can barely see the elephant in all this chaos.” Gallo was taller and had a better view.

  “No, but she can look after herself,” Gallo answered. “Just keep an eye on the predators. They’ll be turning their attention on us next.” She gestured with her sword to the massacre on the other side. “I reckon that lot is the appetizer.”

  Across the arena, Sangfroid swung her spear into the eye socket of a huge mechanical bear. It shook its head violently breaking the shaft in half before keeling over. In a blink two hyenas tore into the living parts of the creature and saved Sangfroid the worry of dispatching it. She grabbed an abandoned sword to replace her lost spear. The hilt was greasy with blood. Looking closer she found part of a human scalp in her palm. She flicked it away and adjusted her grip. Beside her, Aphrodite trumpeted her alarm and sideswiped a lion out of her path with a whiplash crack of her trunk. She stood confused, swaying from side to side in the middle of the bloodbath. While Sangfroid was pleased she had finally stopped running, she now presented a huge blindside. She could see the elephant was not able for a fight; she had neither the strength nor sense of self-preservation to survive long out here. The sideswipe to the lion had been a lucky reflex. Already she was dead weight; if she fell over, Sangfroid was stuffed, there was no way she could move, nevermind fight with a dead elephant glued to her side.

  A huge wolf rushed her, and she beheaded it with a mighty, but beautifully executed, sweep of her short sword. It lay with its mechanical legs still pumping even as its head bounced several yards away. These creatures were proving a demon to kill; it took a maximum hit to do any damage at all.

  The felons were mostly done for. They lay in tattered heaps all around her. She began to worry that she and Aphrodite would soon be the only things standing. The felons hadn’t managed to dispatch even one beast, she noted with exasperation, unless they’d choked one to death while it gorged on them. Sangfroid had hoped for better odds, but in reality, these hapless criminals had never stood a chance. She watched a lion drag down a horse by its throat, and another leap on a woman who didn’t even try to save herself. The screaming of the animals was harder to take than the dying cries of men.

  A tiger tore its way up Aphrodite’s left flank—the side Sangfroid could not reach. The elephant reared in terror, nearly wrenching Sangfroid’s leg clean off. She pulled a trident out from under a nearby body and hurled it with all her might at the tiger now biting down on Aphrodite’s back, hoping to at least unbalance it. The tigers were big beasts and highly automated, and she doubted if a puny, blunt projectile would inflict much damage. Her luck was in. The creature lost its footing, but instead of falling off, it ripped its way down Aphrodite’s side, digging its claws into her flesh to slow its descent.

  Aphrodite screamed and reared even higher throwing the tiger off. The trident bounced back and landed with its prongs on either side of Sangfroid’s foot. She swore at the lucky miss. The tiger followed. It crashed to the ground between Aphrodite and Sangfroid, far too close for comfort. Once it found its feet, it would be on top of her. She swung back her sword ready to make a quick and hopefully decisive strike when Aphrodite thundered back down onto all fours. Her massive metal foot landed on the tiger’s chest, and with a loud pop, its metal guts sprang loose.

  “Good girl.” Sangfroid breathed in relief. “Now just do that twenty-seven more times.”

  It was all too much for Aphrodite. She continued her sag downwards and lay flat out on the ground exhausted and in shock.

  “No, no, no!” Sangfroid yanked on the chain pinning her leg inches from the reclining elephant. She had barely room to move, nevermind defend herself. “Get up, you lazy cow!”

  A humongous bear came lumbering up. It reared on its hind legs and Sangfroid jabbed it hard in the guts with the trident. The prongs cracked against metal plate under the belly fur and jarred her wrist painfully. She was unable to move, Aphrodite had her pinned to the spot, and her weapon was useless. This was it! Even an old soldier’s luck could only last so long. The bear roared straight into her face, marinating her in halitosis and saliva, then it raised the huge claw that would finish her off. Sangfroid was aware of two things—the world around her moved into slow motion, while sound separated out and amplified until she could clearly differen
tiate every shrieking voice, every murmur, every creak in the entire building. And above the hullabaloo came the trill of many, many imperial trumpets.

  “Severus ex Machina, your Emperor!” A voice boomed out, and the crowd bellowed approval. The central balcony filled up with slaves waving palm fronds, and soldiers ushered in a man bedecked in gold-plated armour and swathed in royal purple. Slaves wafted the greenery over his head while others threw cypress under his feet to perfume, as well as cushion each step. Severus Ex had finally deigned to arrive at his own honorary games.

  Aphrodite lifted her head. Her trunk waved towards the balcony where the smell of cypress, leafy laurel, and sweet scented bowers breezed through the stench of death. She trumpeted hopefully, and lumbered to her feet following the scent of food with a shambling awkwardness. Then she took off like lightning. Sangfroid was instantly swept up with her and whisked away like linen blowing on a clothesline, leaving the bear to swipe at empty air. Aphrodite moved fast towards the scent of fresh foliage. She stomped on hyenas, crushed lions, and swept bears and wolves aside. Her concentration was on only one thing—food. She gained momentum and cannoned towards the lower terraces, focused on her goal. The spectators in the lower stalls began to panic at her relentless advance.

  Aphrodite charged headfirst into the arena wall like a huge, bronze battering ram. Dust and debris flew into the air. An entire section of wall slid away. The plank seating cracked and shattered toppling screaming spectators into the arena. From the turrets on the topmost tier archers shot at Aphrodite. Their job was to shoot down anything trying to escape the arena floor. Most of their arrows bounced off her body plate or thudded into the crowd causing even more panic. The few that did pierce her living flesh made her angry but did not stop her. She ploughed on through the terraces, crushing all in her way and heading straight for the Emperor’s balcony. Sangfroid clung onto her side plates as best she could. She had long ago given up on trying to keep up with Aphrodite, electing instead to jump onboard and hang on for dear life. If she lost footing, she was dead. Simple as that. She wedged her fingers between metal panels that ground against her fingertips so tightly she worried they would be cut clean off.