Blood and Iron p-2

by Tony Ballantyne

  ‘For the moment.’

  ‘Are you sure? I thought you didn’t trust him.’

  ‘I don’t. But we said we would follow him.’

  And at that Melt heaved himself onto the ledge and began to follow Simrock along it. Despite the weight of his body, he moved with surprising grace through the mountains. He seemed at home here, up amongst the sheer slopes that tilted their faces to the sky.

  Karel was not so comfortable as he brought up the rear, edging along the narrow path. It turned a corner, and he took a last look back at the Northern Road before it was lost from view.

  The trail they followed was ancient and strangely constructed. Karel wondered at the mindset of the robots who would build a path that sometimes climbed near vertical cliff faces, cutting grooves with which to pull themselves forwards. More than once Karel and Melt found themselves lying on their fronts, fumbling in the darkness for the grooves that had been carved into the rock so they could pull themselves forwards. Karel’s body was badly scratched and so full of grit: it constantly irritated his electro-muscle. As for Melt, he didn’t even have the comfort of looking forward to a chance to strip down and clean his body. Or was that such a comfort? It was all that Karel thought about now, and it made the irritation worse.

  Still, they walked and climbed and crawled on, heading south all the while.

  ‘What was that?’ called Melt.

  ‘What was what?’

  Karel was too busy keeping both hands on the rocks. Despite his heavy body, Melt leaned back, one hand and one foot wedged into a wall.

  ‘It’s Simrock. He’s speaking to himself. Is that what the Spontaneous do?’

  ‘Ruth?’ said Simrock. ‘That’s an unusual name. Where do you want to meet? The village? It’s not that far.’

  ‘What village?’ asked Melt.

  ‘It’s just around here!’

  ‘Who were you speaking to?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Simrock didn’t seem concerned. ‘I can’t see anybody.’

  Karel hurried to catch up.

  ‘What’s going on, Simrock?’

  Simrock pointed. ‘There is a village just around this corner. I know it’s there!’

  ‘Who is Ruth?’ asked Melt.

  But Simrock had already gone on ahead.

  ‘I knew it! Just here! Can you see it yet?’

  ‘No!’ called Melt.

  ‘He’s not speaking to us,’ said Karel.

  They rounded a corner and halted, gazing down at the scene below in amazement.

  Karel had never seen the village before, and yet he felt as if he knew it. He had the image woven into his mind, along with other tales and stories of childhood. This was how robots used to live, back before the villages had grown into towns and then states. Back when there was enough iron in the ground for all the robots on Penrose.

  The village was a huddled collection of little circular buildings, all of the same basic design. Triangular sections of iron were riveted together to make bulging domes, which were fixed into place on stone foundations that rose to about the level of the knee. Flakes of orange rust peeled from the metal.

  ‘It’s not been abandoned for that long. No more than forty years, I would say.’ Karel looked around in wonder. ‘The village is set back on this ledge, it wouldn’t be visible from below, the rock is too shear above. But surely someone would have come up here?’

  Melt said nothing, he pushed on, following Simrock towards the village. It was surrounded by a low stone wall; beyond the wall the ground was paved in wide, broken flags.

  Karel followed him slowly, looking around in wonder. He felt as if he had stepped out of his own world and into another. At any moment he expected ancient robots to emerge from the antique buildings, waving to him with simply constructed limbs, peering at him through poorly focussed eyes. He imagined them coming forward and touching his body, admiring the metal, the smooth curves of its construction, scratched and damaged though it may be.

  He heard Simrock’s voice, calling out.

  ‘Ruth? I’m here! Where are you?’

  There was movement up ahead in the village. Two, three robots emerging from amongst the low, round buildings.

  No, not robots! Karel halted in astonishment. Melt had recoiled, had clumsily assumed a fighting position.

  They walked like robots, they had arms and faces like robots, but they weren’t made of metal. They were animals!

  Wa-Ka-Mo-Do

  Once, when he was a young robot, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do’s father had taken him to visit a tanning factory. He had seen the dead bodies of the cattle, flayed of their skins, lying in a pile, waiting for processing. There was something so exotic and other about the shapes of their internal frameworks, their skeletons, yellow bones smooth and curving in that weird way that suggested intelligent design. But what robot mind would bend and deform a structure in this fashion he didn’t know.

  ‘You say that,’ his father had said, ‘but I think we could learn a lot from such constructions. The material is light, but it’s strong! Look at the way the curves give strength.’

  Organic life was like that, reflected Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. It looked so flimsy and soft, like you could squash it with one hand. But look at the damage it caused…

  The west side of Sangrel reminded him a little of the tanning yard. The buildings had lost their roofs, their tiles blown away or shattered. Only the metal skeletons remained, twisted and blackened and illuminated by the fires that still burned orange and white below. One row of houses had been cut lengthways by the explosion, the further half collapsed; flames could be seen flickering through the broken windows. And beyond there, the centre of the blast, a crater punched into the very rock of the city itself, molten rock glowing red at its heart. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do knew about atomic weapons. Those robots close to the blast would find their minds subtly altered, their life spans drastically reduced. Not that anyone would care.

  Columns of smoke held up the starry sky, cold and aloof above the damaged city.

  ‘How many are dead?’ wondered Wa-Ka-Mo-Do aloud. As he spoke, the crackle of gunfire sounded once more. Instantly he moved, searching out the sound. ‘Over there,’ he pointed.

  A bell tower, the cap lost in the explosion, the bell still tolling slowly as it swayed in the night, and there, silhouetted by orange flames, two robots, firing down at the lower end of the Street of Becoming. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do looked closer. There on the ground was La-Ver-Di-Arussah, directing her troops to fire back. Successfully. First one, then the other of the two robots fell, the bell still tolling all the while, metal bodies smashing to the ground, shattering into fragments. They wore pig-iron bodies: cheap metal was all the poor of Sangrel could afford.

  More shots, from further away, and La-Ver-Di-Arussah turned her troops towards the new attackers. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do saw how the robots were massing, saw how they were approaching the Street of Becoming in ones and twos, silhouetted bodies clambering over the rubble, carrying knives and guns, rocks and stones and metal bars.

  He became aware of the slow throb of other bells ringing, all over the city, and he realized that the steady pulse wasn’t the result of the after-effects of the explosion, but rather that the robots had picked up on that rhythm and had taken it for their own, a sign of their rising anger.

  Now La-Ver-Di-Arussah and her troops were retreating, coming back towards Wa-Ka-Mo-Do.

  ‘We need to hold this gate,’ said Gillian, appearing at his side.

  ‘Get back!’ shouted Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, pushing her back with one hand as a bullet ricocheted from the wall nearby. More shots rang out. ‘Get back into the square, you idiot!’

  ‘Take your hands off me, robot!’

  Gillian unholstered a pistol and raised it to eye level. She squeezed the trigger, and Wa-Ka-Mo-Do heard three faint pops as she fired at the nearest rebels.

  ‘Get yourself a proper weapon,’ she said, and she turned and stalked back into the safety of the square. She had a warrior’s temperament, if nothing else.

  Th
e steady tolling of the bells was rising in volume. It seemed to Wa-Ka-Mo-Do he could feel a pulse of electricity behind it; the long pent-up rage of the robots of Sangrel building up to discharge itself in one lightning burst.

  La-Ver-Di-Arussah and her soldiers came running up.

  ‘They are approaching from every direction, Honoured Commander.’

  ‘What about Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah?’

  ‘He got through. The humans soldiers are already organising themselves, getting ready to escort the civilians up here.’

  ‘Good. We’ll help bring them to safety and then hold back the peasants until the humans have left. After that we will begin the job of restoring order to the city.’

  ‘Get the humans to shoot them all for us,’ said La-Ver-Di-Arussah. ‘It will come to the same thing in the end.’

  Wa-Ka-Mo-Do said nothing. He couldn’t help thinking that she was right. Events had moved way beyond his control.

  ‘Get up to the square and organize a defence,’ he said.

  ‘Very well.’

  ‘We will do everything we can to help the humans. I want them out of my city as fast as possible.’

  The slow tolling of the bells was increasing in volume, the fires burned on, the smoke climbed to the stars, cold and silent above. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do suddenly swept both his arms out wide, blades extended, expending so much built-up power in one crackling burst. He felt better for it. Centred, composed once more, he turned and made his way back up the hill to Smithy Square.

  The humans had dragged one of their female guns to the top of the Street of Becoming. It sat there, looking down at him with that sleek, deadly expression.

  ‘What’s going on?’ asked Wa-Ka-Mo-Do.

  ‘We’ve reprogrammed it to only attack robots,’ said Gillian.

  La-Ver-Di-Arussah was watching the gun with interest.

  ‘What about Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah?’ he shouted. ‘What about the rest of the escort who will be bringing the humans back up here?’

  ‘They’ll turn it off when our troops approach,’ said La-Ver-Di-Arussah.‘They’ll turn it off now,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do coldly. ‘Gillian! Move this gun away. You will not harm my citizens!’

  ‘I thought they were the Emperor’s citizens?’

  ‘Rust the Emperor!’

  The words were out before Wa-Ka-Mo-Do could stop them. A horrified silence fell between him and La-Ver-Di-Arussah. They gazed at each other, realizing that Wa-Ka-Mo-Do had crossed that final line. La-Ver-Di-Arussah recovered first.

  ‘Very well, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, if that’s your wish.’ She wore a cold smile.

  ‘It’s not my wish,’ said Gillian. ‘The gun stays on. I will not jeopardize the safety of my people.’

  ‘Nor I mine,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do.

  ‘You are outnumbered, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do,’ said Gillian. ‘Would you fight all my troops?’

  Wa-Ka-Mo-Do looked around the green-clad humans, their guns swinging in his direction.

  ‘I think I would,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, blades extending at his hands and feet.

  One of the humans did something, and the strange gun raised its head, turning round to face Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. They stood, gazing at each other. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do stared up into the round eye of the barrel.

  ‘Shall I tell them to arm it?’ asked Gillian, coolly.

  To think was to move. He reached out, caught the human woman, pulled her before him, wrapped an arm around the middle of her soft body, placing her between himself and the gun.

  ‘Tell them,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do.

  They stood there, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do and Gillian, the female gun looking down at them, the slow tolling of bells pulsing in a night filled with the orange glow of burning, surrounded by bars of smoke, the stars cold above them. The human faltered first.

  ‘Turn it off,’ she said.

  Karel

  Simrock walked up to the leading animal.

  ‘Hello. Are you Ruth?’

  The animal smiled.

  ‘I am! You must be Simrock! And who are your friends?’

  ‘This is Melt, and here comes Karel now.’

  Karel came forward, looking at the animal in astonishment. She was female, he knew it. She looked so like a robot woman. Her pink animal body was stuffed inside a padded silver thing that enveloped her body. Now he was close to her he could see animal eyes behind the dark glasses that covered half her face, he noted the white grease smeared around the rim of her mouth. It was bright but cold up here, and he wondered if these animals were at the limits of their tolerance.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ asked Melt, suspicion hard in his voice. ‘Where are the rest of you?’

  ‘Melt, what’s the matter with you?’ said Karel. The animals unnerved him, the way they walked like robots, but so did Melt’s attitude. He had never seen the robot so angry before.

  ‘There are just the three of us,’ said Ruth, answering Melt. She wore something over her head. A little light flickered as she spoke. ‘I’m Ruth Powdermaker. The guy with the big feet is Brian Kovacs and the pretty young woman is Jasprit Begum.’ The two other animals smiled as their names were mentioned. The male one waved a hand in greeting. ‘We’re .’

  Karel heard the sound of the word as it emerged from her mouth, wet and hissing.

  ‘I’m sorry, there seems to be no robot equivalent. We study groups of people.’

  ‘Did you make that talking machine?’ said Karel.

  ‘Never mind that,’ interrupted Melt. ‘Where are your weapons?’

  ‘Here,’ said Ruth, patting a holster at her side. ‘Plus, Brian’s got a rifle packed away on board the ship. But they’re only for our own protection. We’re not part of the group on the plain. We’re here purely for research.’

  ‘Research into what?’

  ‘Life here on this planet. Contact with humans will change your society. It’s already happening. We want to try and capture all that we can about conditions before we arrived. That’s why we’re up here. Plus, there are so many of the Spontaneous here.’

  They all looked at Simrock.

  ‘How were you speaking to him?’ asked Karel.

  ‘I hear her voice,’ said Simrock. ‘Like when I was below the ground.’

  The animal called Jasprit was carefully examining Simrock’s head. What was she looking for?

  ‘And is that normal?’ asked Ruth. ‘Is that what you all experience?’

  She was gazing at Karel.

  ‘Hearing voices?’ he said. ‘No. Only the Spontaneous can do that.’

  ‘Is that right, Melt?’ asked Jasprit. She was smaller than the other two, her body a darker colour. Her eyes were dark and bright. Melt looked at her with undisguised hostility.

  ‘I don’t know anything about the Spontaneous. And I don’t know anything about the three of you, either. Karel, I think we should go. Now.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Look at this place. These buildings. And then these humans turn up here.’ Karel had never heard the word before, but Melt said human in the same way he might say rust. ‘I say we go. Now.’

  ‘The buildings!’ said Brian with the big feet. ‘They’re strange, aren’t they? Not at all like the other ones we’ve seen here. Why is that do you suppose?’

  ‘Why do you keep asking all these questions?’

  ‘Melt!’ Karel looked at the big robot in astonishment. ‘What’s the matter with you?’

  ‘These animals. Don’t trust them.’

  ‘You’re suspicious. I can understand that,’ said Ruth. ‘Have you met humans before, Melt? We’re not all the same, you know. We’re not like those down on the plain.’

  ‘You mentioned that before,’ said Karel. ‘What do you mean, the ones on the plain?’

  ‘There is a big robot state to the south of these mountains. It controls the southern part of this continent. Do you know of it?’

  ‘Artemis!’ said Karel.

  ‘Of course he knows Artemis, Ruth.’ Brian stepped forward, and Karel noted the cloth panelling that covered him was streaked
with grease and oil. ‘He’s wearing the body of one of their soldiers. Are you part of that state, Karel?’

  ‘Me? No. They destroyed my home. Have you heard of Turing City?’

  ‘Turing City? No. Where is that located? If I showed you a map, could you tell me? I’ll just be a moment?’

  Karel looked around in bewilderment as Brian dashed off around the side of one of the old-fashioned buildings.

  ‘We could follow him,’ said Ruth. ‘There is an open area in the centre of this village where we have set up camp. All our equipment is there. Would you come with us? Would that be all right?’

  She looked at Melt.

  ‘If you’ve met humans before, you’ll know what our guns can do. If I wanted to harm you, I could have shot you as you approached. I could shoot you as you leave. That wouldn’t help me do my job though, would it? Come and speak with us! Please?’

  ‘I think we should go with them,’ said Karel. ‘They might be able to tell us things we need to know.’

  ‘What about your wife?’ said Melt. ‘Don’t trust them, Karel.’

  ‘Why not, Melt? What do you know about these humans? Why won’t you tell me anything?’

  Melt glared at him, eyes glowing.

  ‘They said that there were humans in Artemis,’ said Karel. ‘I think we need to find out as much as we possibly can.’

  ‘Very well,’ said Melt. ‘But watch out. Their words are lubricated in the finest oil. Don’t trust the animals!’

  Wa-Ka-Mo-Do

  The night passed under the brilliant stars to the tolling of bells. The noise from the city was increasing, the steady stamping, the gunfire. More than once Wa-Ka-Mo-Do thought he should go to the aid of Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah, but each time Gillian had dissuaded him.

  ‘They are coming,’ she said, oblivious to Wa-Ka-Mo-Do’s concerns. ‘Our soldiers are more than a match for a few civilians.’ Didn’t she realize that, but for a lingering concern for the Emperor’s authority and for the fact that he wasn’t sure just what to do for the best, he would have given his robots the order to open fire upon her and her troops?

  The gun at the top of the Street of Becoming was deactivated. The other human guns were mostly still now. Every so often one of them would twitch and send a brief stream of bullets into the night before lowering its head and resting once more. There was a sense of calmness and isolation up here at the top of Sangrel, a feeling of being temporarily removed from the trouble below. They all felt it, human and robot alike, staring into the surrounding darkness.