by Neal Asher
‘We’ll send another relict digger here.’ Eller stabbed a thumb behind. ‘There might be other stuff underneath that lava flow.’
Rune acknowledged that with a nod. This was confirmation of what he had told his apprentices and of what they suspected.
The road around Meeps wound down to the main road where Rune took the truck up a few gears, then slowed again when the trailer showed signs of beginning to fish tail. An hour of driving brought them down onto the agricultural plain – fields pale green with spring barley and young vegetable plants, fruit trees shedding their blossoms across the road, which slowed him down further. They reached a checkpoint where Eller unnecessarily showed papers to the guards, for it was obvious they recognised him. He then stepped out and barked orders and they brought out cans of diesel to fill the truck’s tanks. When one of the guards strayed close to the trailer he drew his sidearm and fired once in the air, and barked some more orders. They then quickly raised the barrier to let them through.
Warehouses and factory units steadily displaced fields and the traffic increased. Most of it was military or ecclesiastical – there being little distinction here. Rune noted one area that had been hit, piles of rubble and broken fibre sheeting lying between monolithic presses and furnaces, some bodies yet to be removed by those in hazard gear picking through the wreckage. The air became thicker, smoky with the stink of burning coal and oil. Larger buildings began to appear: ecclesiastical bureaucracy, ministries and clean manufacturing blocks. Rune thought they might be heading straight into the centre until Eller directed him elsewhere. Eventually they pulled into a yard while the man spoke on his radio. Large doors opened in the warehouse ahead. Within, Rune eyed the men in black and kaki overalls, the beams in the roof and winches up there, and all the other equipment and work benches scattered all around. Had this been quickly prepared since he found the drone, or was it something they had prepared for a long time?
Even as he drew to a halt workers began scrambling over the trailer, pulling off the tarpaulin while the big doors closed behind. Eller climbed out and he did too, moving back to watch the work. The workers quickly wrapped heavy straps, which seemed to be a mix of metal and fibre, about the drone attached a series of winch cables from the ceiling beams. They began hoisting the thing up even as someone else climbed into the truck and drove the trailer out from underneath, taking it out again through doors that were open at the other end of the warehouse. Next they came in with heavy steel pallet jacks and began raising them as the cables lowered the done. It came down with a crunch. Someone climbed on top, cutting the ropes and stripping them away, the feet dropping down to the floor in eerie silence as if the thing were getting comfortable. They brought in further jacks and, using the hoists, again raised the claws level with the drone’s eyes.
But he wondered what now? They had their X-ray machines but they were all but useless in penetrating that armour. They had many tools and machines, but nothing that could dismantle this drone. They would now measure and catalogue it, write tracts about it, break their machines on it and finally consign the drone to some hidden location and pretend it had never been found. That was, of course, if it just remained there totally inert.
Eller showed him to quarters attached to the warehouse and there he installed himself. The accommodation was modern but austere, though food had been provided in a noisy fridge in the corner, and he cooked himself a meal on the smelly coal gas stove. He then washed and changed and went back to see what was occurring. Yes, they were measuring the drone and meticulously recording detail of its shape. They even managed to obtain its weight from the jacks underneath. As he arrived they were pulling away a pedestal drilling machine, many blunt and broken drill bits lying on the floor.
‘I would be interested in how you would approach this matter,’ Eller said to him, as they spectated from a couple of packing crates. ‘How do we learn from this thing if we cannot even penetrate its armour?’
The question was casual and loaded. Eller had understood that Rune knew more than he was letting on, and now intended to test his utility in this matter. Rune looked around the interior of the warehouse. Buss bars ran around the walls and twenty feet in from the walls into which they could plug their various machines. They carried a heavy current required by those same machines.
‘I suggest feeding it,’ he replied.
Eller turned and looked at him in puzzlement.
Rune shrugged. ‘It must have a power source inside that is probably dead. It must also have methods of recharging that source on or about its exterior.’
‘Really?’
Rune turned to him. ‘You know about photo-optical cells – they made one in Foreton some years ago, but considered the technology nowhere as useful as generators and batteries.’
‘Yes, I know about that.’
‘I am sure I saw a claw move at one point, and luminescence from those eyes. I suspect that exposing it to the sunlight allowed its system to garner some energy. I suppose that it must have other methods of doing the same – quite possibly it has charging points like a battery.’
‘But that might result in damage to things inside we have no idea about.’
‘I suspect that if we do something wrong it will have numerous ways internally to prevent damage. It is a war machine and therefore all vulnerabilities are likely covered.’
‘You seem quite confident about this?’
‘Not confident, no, but I do know that we have to try things and take risks if we are to gain anything from this find beyond reinforcement of doctrine.’
Eller looked at him for a long moment, then said, ‘What do you need?’
‘The heaviest cables you have available that can reach the thing from the power here… and some big clamps to hold them in position.’
They walked over to the drone where Eller called over a man and a woman dressed in long hide coats and small narrow-brimmed black hats. Rune recognised them as researchers from the Divinity College, though of course he did not know them personally because he had never been there.
‘Tell them,’ said Eller.
Rune looked at the two and knew at once that they would not agree with his idea and would vehemently defend what they now considered their territory. He pointed to the nearest buss bar. ‘I propose running cables from one of those. I think it unlikely to matter what current or voltage we use. Attach them up front and back on the drone. I think it highly likely it has numerous resources for gathering energy from its environment.’
‘Ridiculous idea,’ said the man. ‘And quite likely you’ll damage the relict!’
‘I don’t think so,’ Rune replied. ‘It’s undamaged, as far as we can see, from having been swamped in lava.’
‘And what precisely do you expect that to do?’ asked the woman snootily.
‘I expect we’ll perhaps see some activation of some of its parts,’ Rune replied. ‘We can then continue from there. We will learn something at least instead of simply recording what is easily evident.’
‘And what is easily evident?’ she asked.
‘That it is a rugged war drone made in the shape of a scorpion and all but impenetrable to the technology we have available.’
‘In your expert opinion,’ the man derided.
‘And,’ said the woman, ‘supposing this does manage to activate something, it could be very dangerous.’
Rune focused on her. ‘Are you saying that a Polity relict could be dangerous to us?’
She suddenly looked scared and shot a glance at Eller. The man looked too – both of them unsure of their ground now. Eller had watched all this with an amused expression and now bowed his head in thought. Without looking up he said, ‘We will do this.’ He looked up. ‘Presumably we have a suitable way of controlling the current?’
‘I don’t know that we have anything like that,’ said the man. ‘And, Hand Eller, we should be proceeding with extreme caution at this point.’
‘So you
do feel this Polity relict might be dangerous to us?’
The man swallowed dryly. ‘Of course not. It is certainly God’s plan for us to find such things and to have found this.’
‘If I may interrupt,’ said Rune. He pointed to a large metal box on wheels over by one wall with cables strewn all around it. ‘That looks to me like an arc welder – perfectly suitable as a controller.’
Eller looked too, then gave Rune some consideration before turning back to the other two. ‘We will take it from here. I suggest you head back to the College and do some more research. Perhaps, if I allow you to return, you’ll have some useful suggestions?’
‘Sir! The Bishop instructed us –’
‘The Bishop put me in charge,’ Eller interrupted. ‘Until he says otherwise I say what happens here. I suggest you leave now before I have you removed.’
They really did not want to go, moving off to have a whispered conversation over by the personnel door beside the main entrance doors. Rune had no doubt that they would be going directly to the Bishop and quite possibly he would intervene, though possibly not since the Hand had the man’s confidence. It didn’t matter. Any intervention would come too late now. Certain events would have occurred, or they simply were not going too.
‘The cables for the welder are long enough,’ said Rune, as the two departed. ‘It must have been used for fixing any of the stationary machines in here.’
‘Cold forges,’ Eller replied. ‘Now in another factory underground – used for making shell casings.’
‘Very well.’ Rune headed over. Upon reaching the welder he spotted the heavy plug lying on the floor with its cable coiled underneath it. He picked the thing up and towed its cable over to the buss bar nearest the drone, pushed it in and secured it with one twist. Eller had followed him and together they returned to the welder and pushed it over to the drone, dragging its power cable with it.
‘Everyone away from the drone,’ Eller called. ‘It’s about to be live.’
Never a truer word spoken, thought Rune.
The clamp for holding thick arc rods opened wide enough to close firmly on the drone’s sting. The other clamp for the item being welded he pulled round to the front of the thing and closed about the tip of one claw. He then returned to the welder. On the upper face was a rotary rheostat switch, four position switch and one large power switch. In a concession to Eller’s concerns he clicked to the lowest of the four settings and wound the rheostat down to zero before turning the thing on. The box jerked as it hummed into life. He wound the rheostat up to its top setting then back down before clicking the four-position switch up to its next setting. As he wound the rheostat up again some sparks dropped from the clamp on the claw. That, he knew, would damage the clamp and not the drone’s armour, but he turned the welder off to go and check anyway, shifting the clamp to a more secure position. Up through each power setting nothing much happened until he reached the top one. As he wound the rheostat up on that the drone shuddered and shifted.
‘My God,’ said Eller, but with excitement in his voice. They walked over to see what had moved. The scales on the jacks had dropped to zero for the thing now supported its own weight. Checking the claws he found a piece of card and slid it underneath, showing that they too had risen from their jacks. He turned to head back to the welder.
‘Look!’ Eller exclaimed, drawing his attention back.
The tail began to rise, slowly coming up off the floor towing the attached power cable with it, then with a flash and shower of sparks the clamp came off, and with a crash the drone slumped. The dials on the sides of the jacks shot up again, and one of them released a squirt of oil from a faulty hydraulic connector.
‘Damn,’ said Rune. ‘I’ll have to wire those in place.’
‘But we have results,’ said Eller.
‘We certainly do, but I suspect it will be a long while before we get any more than this. It will have to sit on charge.’
‘What makes you suspect that?’
Rune waved a hand at the drone. ‘It’s very heavy and I can only assume that its power supply must be immense, perhaps something we haven’t seen before.’
‘Very well.’ Eller turned away from him to the workers standing around watching. ‘Who’s in charge here?’ he asked.
After a moment a man walked over. ‘You are, sir,’ he said.
Eller smiled. ‘And below me were our two friends I sent away. Who is next down in the chain?’
‘That would be me,’ said the man.
‘What’s your name?’
‘Gaston.’
‘Very well, Gaston.’ He pointed to Rune. ‘While I am gone you are to take instructions from this man. You do whatever he tells you.’
‘You’re going?’ Rune asked.
Eller grimaced, and waved Gaston away. When the man was out of earshot he said, ‘I need to report to the Bishop as I’ve no doubt Glade and Reynolt have gone to him. He needs to know that we’re getting somewhere here without them. I wasn’t too pleased about the idea of College researchers in charge here – too concerned about religious matters, rather than military ones.’
‘Curious to hear that from the Bishop’s Hand,’ Rune noted.
‘I am a curious fellow,’ Eller replied. ‘Get back to work on this and do what you can. I am hoping you’ll have more for me when I return tomorrow.’
‘I hope so too,’ Rune replied.
As the day drew to its close Rune found himself in charge of a lot of workers and little idea what to do with them. He told Gaston this and the man sent many of them away. The remainder Rune got to work on making two good solid clamps for electrical contact with the drone’s sting and one claw. Others he had working in close with small chisels, taking out the stone hardened in various holes all about its exterior, like the barrels of the obvious weapon attached to one claw. By the time the clamps had been fashioned and tried out, one of the workers had cleared out two square holes just behind its head on top. He refrained from pointing out that plugs could be made to push into these and inject power more directly, because obviously that would show he knew far too much.
‘Okay!’ he called once the clamps, with cables attached, had been positioned and tightened. ‘Stand clear!’
The remaining five workers hurriedly moved away, and he switched on the welder and quickly wound it up to full power. The drone shrugged and raised its weight again, and this time when the tail rose it did not shed its clamp. With Gaston at his side and the others trailing, he walked round it making a visual inspection. This time the eyes were a deep dark red, as if they had filled with blood. Pieces of stone still in some of its orifices now fell out. The air around it felt prickly, telic.
‘I think we should call it a day now,’ Rune said. He had noticed one or two of those remaining looking at a clock over on the wall beside the main doors. ‘We’ll leave it charging like this overnight and see what the morning brings.’ They all stood watching him. ‘You can go home now,’ he added.
Back in his apartment, Rune first prepared and ate a light meal. The changes continuing inside his body needed their fuel just as the drone needed power. He also emptied out his pockets of items he had picked up in the warehouse: the swarf of a wide variety of metals, plastics and carbon, a mixed bag of metal salts and other chemicals he had found while apparently making an inventory and deciding what might be needed for work on the drone. These he now wrapped in bread and swallowed, because the changes in his body were not what they would describe here as wholly organic. His digestive system, being about the first to upgrade, handled these without problem, while his nanosuite and much changed body quickly began distributing them where required.
He went to lie on the bed and, not needing sleep, next focused his vision inwards. The mechanisms of this aspect of his full being were coming along nicely, and soon communication with his full self would re-establish after three years. It amused him to think of the reaction of Eller and the like should he all
ow them to take a look inside him with one of their primitive X-ray machines.
As the changes continued his temperature rose but, adapted for this, he did not need to reduce it. Sweating would not have worked in that respect anyway, since he was now wondering about getting off the bed and stripping off his clothes before they scorched. But all the while, as the changes continued, he kept his external appearance as locked down as he could. Four hours later he realised he needed more materials for the changes inside him, so stood and headed back to the warehouse, taking a loaf of bread with him.
A stair led down from his apartment directly to a door into the warehouse. On the level just below his apartment a window had been inset and, through that, he saw guards patrolling outside. As he entered the warehouse he wondered if they would be there too, but could see none, and he could see clearly, too, without needing to put on the lights. He began walking around, senses now tuning up so he could recognise the things he needed should he see them. He scraped up copper, magnesium, iron and aluminium swarf, made selections from the chemical store, noting a need for potassium and calcium salts. Steam rose from his clothing and tremors in his muscles seemed to hint they might explode. He walked back to the door leading up to his apartment and beside it shed his clothing, stacking it neatly on a crate. It didn’t matter if someone came in now, anyway, since he had grown enough chromatophores and other technology in his skin to render himself invisible.
He returned to searching out the things he needed, at one point opening a crate and taking out an artillery shell, using the tools here to open it and ingesting the contents. The prime chemical he needed from it was phosphorous, which he mixed carefully with machine oil before drinking down. Internally his density had now increased to five times that of a standard human being and yes he did feel ready to explode, but still he had to maintain the facsimile of something approaching the humanity of this world for a little while longer. Finally deciding he had taken himself as far as he could for now, he decided it was time to go back to his bed and turn himself off for a few hours. But first he went over and stood before the drone.
