Emissary Metal OMNIBUS 1-3

by Paton, Chris

  “Convince? You mean we are not going to?”

  Seffi pointed at the cloven footprint in the mud to the right of the track. “How much do the feet weigh?”

  “Each?” I picked mud from my eyebrow. “Ten pounds, perhaps.”

  “And do you have a herringbone wrench?”

  “The emissary has one. Inside a compartment in its thigh.”

  “Good,” Seffi nodded. She turned and pointed towards the roof of the bothy. “Macfarlane will be disappointed if we go to the bothy. He will expect us to avoid it at all costs. He'll use it as his base.”

  “You know this?”

  “It's what I would do. He knows we can't hide out here. He can take his time.” Seffi stood up. Scanning the ground behind us she pointed into the distance. “There's another bog, further up the hillside. Do you see it?”

  I stood up and looked in the direction Seffi indicated. “Yes.”

  “We'll get the emissary as far as that bog, submerge it and then remove one of its feet. I need you to walk the emissary directly on the path, Karl. Its footprints need to be visible.”

  “All right,” I pulled on the chest harness and clipped the control box onto it. “Just one question. Why did we have to get in the bog? The emissary I understand. It's too shiny. But us? Is it the smell? You want to confuse the dogs?”

  “Oh, Karl,” Seffi's grin lit up her face. The tension from the journey and the mission sloughed off her shoulders as she laughed. The afternoon light danced in her eyes. I found myself too confused and too wet to be distracted. I waited instead. “Even if the dogs couldn't smell us, we stick out too much for a layer of mud to be any protection whatsoever.”

  “Then why?” I frowned.

  “I needed to think.”

  “You think best when covered in mud?”

  “It's something I was taught, back in the Black Forest.” Seffi paused. “Do you remember Schleiermacher mentioning the wilding ways?”

  “Yes,” I nodded. “But he did not elaborate.”

  “The wilding ways are studied as a means of harnessing the power of the land. To understand the nature of the environment you are in, you have to absorb it, let it seep into your pores. It has to get beneath your skin. In the forest I would rub the moss and lichen into my skin, gathering the woods into me.” Seffi's smile faded and I glimpsed distraction in her eyes as she stared past me to some place in her past. “It is supposed to take time.” She looked up. “That's something we don't have.”

  “So splashing in the bog was a shortcut to getting to know the Scottish Highlands?” I looked at my peat-stained hands. “I don't know the wilding ways, Seffi.” I shook my wet sleeves. “Did I really have to get in the bog?”

  “No,” Seffi stepped onto the track, gesturing for me to follow.

  “Then why?”

  “You deserved it, Karl.”

  “I deserved it?” I caught the creep of a smile dimpling Seffi's muddy cheeks. I decided I liked it when she smiled. Jogging to catch up, the control box swinging from the harness, I tugged at Seffi's arm. “Why, Seffi? What did I do to deserve the bog?”

  “You snore in your sleep.”

  “I snore?”

  “Yes. Like a hornet.” Seffi stopped at the side of the bog. “It's time to wake up your friend.”

  Still thinking of how a hornet might snore, I tweaked the levers inside the control box and the emissary rose up, out of the bog. Dripping mud and sloughing water, Grendel-like the emissary stepped out of the peat and onto the track. The heat emanating through its brass plates caked the mud in a black crust. Seffi nodded with approval and I walked the emissary before us, increasing the pace as the track levelled out.

  “You know, Seffi,” I wheezed alongside her as she strode after the emissary. “I think...”

  “Yes?”

  “I think... once the emissary is set in motion...” I caught my breath as the emissary steamed ahead of us. “There is little one can do to stop it.”

  “That's what I am counting on.”

  “You mean you have changed the plan?”

  “No, Karl,” Seffi pointed at the emissary crushing heather and stamping rocks into the track. “He has.” She beckoned me closer and I jogged to walk alongside. “The emissary was designed to operate in areas where humans are often stopped. This design is the latest and best. Wallendorf learned from the failure of other countries.” She turned to look at me. “Yes, Karl. We have our spies, too.” She continued: “The first emissaries suffered from problems with combustion and motor control. But they were robust. Our emissary shares that common aspect of design.”

  “Once it is set in motion...”

  “Nothing can stop it.” Seffi slowed as the track widened. “Try it, Karl. Make it go faster. All the way to the bothy.”

  “You don't want to stop at the bog?”

  “The thing about letting the wild seep into your skin...” Seffi stopped. “Well, it's all about staying flexible and adapting to the flow of the environment. Look at him,” she pointed at the emissary as I increased its pace. “It looks like he needed to get some Scottish mud into his veins, too.”

  Cricking my neck, I turned to look at Seffi. “You need to get in bogs more often.”

  “What?” Seffi frowned.

  “You're starting to get optimistic, and...”

  “And?” The mud wrinkling Seffi's brow cracked, drying in the wind.

  “You're starting to have fun.” I nodded. “Yes, I told you this would be fun. You, me and...”

  “Careful now, Karl. Don't forget who is coming behind us.” Seffi looked up at the sun as it passed behind a bank of clouds above Suilven. “He will have started now. We had best keep moving.”

  I pushed the emissary as fast as I felt I could, without tripping the machine on the track. It was easier than I had imagined. Avoiding the larger boulders, the emissary crushed everything else in its path. It wasn't subtle, and it left a trail a child could follow, but maybe that was the point? I considered this as I chased after Seffi and the emissary, the controller banging against my chest as I gasped Highland air into my lungs.

  Chapter 6

  We reached the bothy an hour or so later, the early evening northern light marred only by the rain clouds crowding the sky, standing on the shoulders of mountains. The emissary had performed well, striding along the trail at a pace beyond what was humanly possible. Indeed, I felt I had run most of the way. I caught my breath while sitting on a boulder outside the small stone building, the emissary steaming gently beside me, while Seffi looked inside the bothy. I let my eyes wander up the track in the direction we had come, lingering over the emissary's spoor. What was it Archie had called it? Foil. I remembered.

  “If you are going tae get away frae Macfarlane, then you are going tae have tae think like Macfarlane,” had been Archie's advice when he talked to me after dancing with the emissary in the Inverkirkaig courtyard earlier that morning. “Foil is whit Macfarlane will be looking for.”

  “Foil?”

  “Aye,” Archie pointed at my boots. “Your footprints and the marks you leave oon the trail. And his.” He nodded at the emissary. “Fer all it can dance, I have no idea how you are going tae hide that thing on the mountain.”

  I turned away from the track and looked up at the emissary. With a quick twist of the levers in the control box, I shook its head.

  “No, I don't know either.”

  “Stop playing with the emissary, Karl,” Seffi appeared at the bothy door, “and come inside.”

  I unclipped the control box from the harness and set it on the ground by the side of the boulder. Nodding at the emissary, I walked the short distance to the bothy door, wincing all the way as my knees protested the renewed activity.

  The bothy had been built to last, but with no thought or even frivolous notion of comfort. The floor was bare wood. Hard, black, pitted and stained. It was well-used but unloved. I wondered just what Beatrice would make of it? The furniture matched the floor in its sturdines
s, unlovely, but unlikely to fail. Laziness, I imagined, had been the demise of any piece of furniture deemed superfluous, as evident in the scant pile of wood by the hearth. The estate staff would have to transport all material to the bothy, and in the event that travellers, stalkers even, were caught out in the rain, then it was little wonder that the coffee table might be sacrificed for a warm glow at the end of a hard day. I eyed the third of the three chairs in the main room of the bothy, calculating how best to use it.

  “This way,” Seffi led me out of the room, through the remains of a tiny kitchen, and up a steep staircase to the first floor. She stopped by the window facing northwest, the direction we had come. “Macfarlane will come here, I am sure.”

  “Yes, you said he would use it as his base.”

  Seffi nodded. She leaned against the wall to right of the window. “He won't be tired, but starting so late in the afternoon, and with the promise of rain,” she tapped the glass with a peat-stained finger, “he and his men will be wanting a little comfort before they start the hunt tomorrow.”

  “Well,” I looked around the room, sighing at the sight of four low bunks and mattresses. “We can't stay here, can we?”

  “No,” Seffi pushed off from the wall and started to climb down the stairs. I followed. “But we can make it as uncomfortable for Macfarlane as possible. There's an axe leaning against the wall at the back of the bothy. Start by splitting those bunks. You can toss the wood out of the window and we can refuel the emissary. After that, anything else, the chairs, the table, we'll burn it all. There'll be nothing for Macfarlane or his men to sleep on or gain any comfort from.”

  “You're going to really piss him off.”

  “Yes.”

  “Won't that make him all the more determined to catch us?”

  “Yes,” Seffi walked across the room and stopped outside the the bothy door. She stared at the emissary. “But if we are to gain even the slightest advantage, then I want him to be mad. So mad that it becomes personal.”

  “I am not sure about this, Seffi. If he is as good a stalker as they say, as ruthless as Schleiermacher suggested...”

  “Then he will stop at nothing to catch us.” Seffi paused, the hint of a smile quivering across her bottom lip. “What's the matter, Karl? I thought you said this was going to be fun?”

  “This is your idea of fun?” I shook my head as Seffi's teeth flashed white between her muddy cheeks. “You are starting to enjoy this.”

  “I couldn't think during the sea crossing. I was too sick and too angry. Now,” she looked up at the granite clouds gathering above us, “I see possibilities.” She tucked her hands into her belt. “The axe is around the back. You had better get busy, Karl. We don't have much time.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Me?” Seffi turned to nod at the emissary. “I am going to remove one of his feet.”

  ҉

  Splitting the bunks took less time than I had imagined. The heavy axe broke through the frames as easily as Beatrice had cracked the eggs for breakfast. What took time was dragging the feather mattresses down the stairs and outside the bothy. The emissary stared at me from the spot I had it balanced, stork-like, one arm straight, its hand flat against the rough stone wall. I split the wood into pieces small enough to pass through the door of the emissary's furnace, using the mattresses like thick spongy rungs on an oversized ladder in order to reach.

  I hadn't seen Seffi for what felt like at least one hour. Not since she had amputated the emissary and disappeared along the track, the cloven foot strapped to her back. I didn't know how she could lift it, let alone carry it. I stoked the furnace, pressing down hard on the door to close it. Jumping down from the mattresses, I dragged them away from the bothy and returned to ferry the broken chairs and table, walking back and forth until I had quite the bonfire before me. It was when I was considering how best to light it that Seffi jogged into view from the opposite side of the bothy, the rosy glow of her cheeks burning through her muddy camouflage.

  “Seffi?” I held out my hands to steady her as she stopped by my side, her shoulders rising and falling. She panted for air.

  “He's coming, faster than I thought.”

  I flicked my head around to look in the direction of the track. “Where?”

  “Not that way,” Seffi hiked her thumb over her shoulder. “He snuck behind us. Must have crossed the loch in a boat and hiked in from the other side.”

  “He couldn't have all those dogs in a boat,” I started.

  “He didn't. They are coming along the path like we expected. Macfarlane is cutting for foil, working both sides of the loch.” Seffi paused to catch her breath. “He is smart, Karl.”

  “Then what do we do?” I looked at Seffi's back. “And where is the foot?”

  Seffi breathed out, held her breath for a moment and then breathed in again. She repeated this for a few moments, nodding once and holding out her hand, finger raised, while I waited for her to speak.

  “We stick to the plan. Macfarlane will be more tired than if he has just walked up the track we took. We burn everything and move to higher ground.”

  “Move to higher ground?” I turned to point at the emissary. “He only has one foot. Where is the other?”

  “I laid a false trail, for what it is worth. It should lead the men and dogs on a slight detour, long enough to frustrate them. With any luck, both Macfarlane and his men will be hot and bothered by the time they reach the bothy. Of course,” Seffi looked at the bonfire, “the smoke will make them wonder.”

  “And the emissary?” I scratched my head. “Maybe we should have left it in a bog. Without the foot...”

  “I had to leave the foot behind. I was doubling back when I decided to have a look on the other side of the valley. That's when I saw Macfarlane. He was moving quickly. Just him and one of his men and that dog he is so fond of. I needed to move faster, so I hid the foot. We'll need to get it after dark.” Seffi thought for a moment.

  “Seffi?”

  “We can’t have a fire. There's a small lochan just over there. I passed it on the way. We'll soak everything instead of burning it. The mattresses will be too wet to sleep on and the wood to wet to burn. We can still make their lives uncomfortable without alerting them a mile away.”

  “And the emissary?”

  Seffi walked over to the bonfire and pulled out a thick length of wood. A part of the bunk I had yet to chop into smaller pieces.

  “We'll make a crutch.” Seffi pressed the wood into my hands. “If you can make the emissary dance the waltz, you can make him limp up a mountain. Get started, I'll soak the rest of the stuff.”

  “How long do we have?”

  “Not long. Don't think about it, Karl. Just get the emissary moving away from the bothy.” She stopped to point at a long low spur of rock tonguing its way down the mountainside. “Get up behind that. We'll use it as cover as we make our way up the mountain.” Seffi jogged over to the bothy. She disappeared inside, returning with a metal pail a few moments later. “Come on, Karl. Get moving.”

  I picked up the control box, attached it to the harness, and carried the makeshift walking stick over to the emissary. Holding the stick out, I fiddled the levers with one hand as the emissary wrapped its fingers into a tight grip around the top of the broken length of bed frame. Placing both hands inside the control box, I took care to move the levers as little as possible, making small adjustments as I commanded the emissary away from the wall. I moved the emissary one tentative step at a time away from the bothy. The stick creaked, bowing under the emissary's weight.

  “This isn't going to work, Seffi,” I called out as she ran to and from the lochan, dousing the bonfire with peat-brown pails of water.

  “Make it work, Karl.” She kicked a length of wood further onto the mattress. “And get up that mountain.”

  I hobbled the emissary past Seffi, holding my breath as we left the even-tempered ground in front of the bothy and moved onto the hummocky heather and co
urse sedge-like grasses leading up all the way up to the spur. Fully-fuelled and off balance, the emissary moved at an angle that did nothing for my nerves. I was already fretting at the thought of Macfarlane and his men catching us in a pincer movement. Now, with only one foot, the emissary was reduced to a lumbering beast, the thick joint where the foot is attached, spearing the ground with each step. We were fortunate that, using the stick as a crutch, the stump gained just enough purchase on the ground to stop it falling, but it took precious time to pull the emissary free of the ground, slowing our progress and jarring my nerves. Seffi's sudden presence by my side did not help matters.

  “You can't go any faster?”

  “No.” I looked up at the first specks of rain. I could feel them drumming the furrows on my brow. Seffi fidgeted a few steps ahead of the emissary.

  “We might have to leave it,” she tapped her hand against the side of her leg. “This won't do.”

  “We can't just leave it here.”

  “Yes, Karl,” Seffi placed a hand on the controller. “We can.” She pointed at a flat space of ground just beneath a large hummock. “Set it down there. We'll come back for it.”

  “I won't leave it behind.” Without thinking, I twisted the levers, turning the emissary's head to stare at Seffi.

  “Yes, you will,” Seffi gripped my chin between strong fingers. She turned my head towards her face. She used those same hazel eyes, that both enthralled and frightened me with their broad spectrum of meaning, to convince me that this was not a point of negotiation. “If you want to live, Karl, you will do what I say, and you will do it now.” Seffi let go of my chin and walked over the hummock and onto the flat ground beneath it. “Put it here. We'll come back for it later.”

  With a last glance at the emissary, I mumbled an apology and hobbled it over to Seffi. I set the emissary on the ground and closed the control box lid.

  “Let's go,” I nodded at Seffi.

  The feint bark of a dog stirred a sudden burst of adrenalin through my body and I ran after Seffi as she picked her way across the grass and between the boulders as we moved up the side of the mountain. I looked back at the emissary as we reached the tip of the spur. Sitting with its legs stretched out on the ground, its hands folded in its lap, the emissary followed our progress as we moved up the mountain.