Spinning Wheels: Mecha Origin 3

by Eve Langlais

  Ever since falling into the chasm, she’d suffered an intense sense of foreboding. Having something finally happen, actual danger to explain her trepidation, did more to relax her than the amazing sex.

  Sex with the two men just proved how much she wanted to live and not die in this place that oozed of wrongness.

  Moving away from the spinning blade, they jogged up the hall, only to sharply turn right as a wall suddenly slid into place, blocking them.

  “How are we supposed to find the center if the maze is fighting us?” Ray ducked just in time as a bar of metal swept past where his head was a moment ago.

  “I don’t think it’s fighting us. More like it’s the parts moving in a giant machine.” Zak crouched and peered around them.

  “It looked like a labyrinth.”

  “I didn’t realize machines had to look a certain way,” Zak retorted.

  “A machine with what purpose? Killing intruders?” Ray took a step then cursed as he threw himself back. The tile he’d been standing on dropped with a clang. A waft of steam shot through the hole, and the clanking was louder for a moment until the tile slammed back into place.

  Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. The Lake, silent since the first stone room, now hummed in agitation. Wringing its spectral presence.

  But there was no running way. They had to see this through. So they maneuvered the maze, even as it chose their path, shifting walls, blocking their way, sending danger slicing through.

  She had to be wary at every moment. Having traversed a section with a perforated floor that steamed and promised to boil them alive if they lingered, they came across an open section looking down upon a different part of the machinery.

  “Are those molds?” Zak pointed to a moving chain of rock, bearing indents into which molten metal poured.

  “It’s making gears.” Ray breathed. “Mecha parts, fresh from the factory.”

  “This is where they’re made?” she asked.

  “No, those are too big for bodies,” Zak claimed with a shake of his head. “More like repairs for this place.”

  “What is this place, though?”

  A question they couldn’t yet answer.

  “I wonder if it’s trying to make the parts it needs to reverse the calamity,” Zak mused aloud.

  “Make this place habitable? Why bother? There’s no one living here to care,” Ray stated, peering around a corner.

  “Can it even be reversed?” she asked.

  Zak shrugged as he cast her a glance over his shoulder. “Only the Mecha Gods would know.”

  “They weren’t gods,” she practically yelled.

  “How would you know?”

  She sealed her lips. She’d already said too much.

  Ray, however, wasn’t giving up. “You keep talking like you know more than us.”

  “I don’t.” But she was beginning to have a suspicion. She wished she understood why they were so convinced the gears were holy. Could they not sense the perversion permeating the very air? If only she could explain how the presence of the Lake within moaned in agitation, sick at what it felt.

  “And you’re lying.” Zak blew out a breath, his expression disappointed. “You know something, and I’ll bet it has to do with your initial reaction to us being some kind of sickos because of our choice to take gears.”

  “I don’t think that anymore.” Hadn’t in a while. Not since she’d gotten to know them and realized that what was inside them didn’t make them bad.

  More discussion proved impossible, as they were chased by a massive zipper that split open the hall. A good thing they found an intersection. Then they had to jump from metal rod to metal rod, riding them up and down across a field of moving pistons.

  Her sense of unease increased, and she didn’t need the sudden hush within to know they’d nearly reached the center of the maze. They also found their first sign of life.

  Piles of refuse littered a room, the first they’d seen without moving parts. Probably because they hung broken, gears spinning without a matching cog to turn, sprockets littering the floor, lonely rods dangling with nothing to attach them. The room stank of rot, the odor rising from the mounds of discard, consisting of cloth, leather, and the remnants of bone. More interesting, the punctures in the metals walls and even the ceiling.

  Zak pointed. “I think we found those who came before us.” Their skeletons littered the room, broken into pieces. Not a single chunk of flesh remained stuck to the bones. Most of them had been cracked open and the marrow sucked out.

  “What did this?” she asked.

  “Doesn’t matter. Weapons out and be ready. I think we’re being watched,” Ray said softly. He drew a gun in one hand, a knife in the other.

  Just in time, because the bellows came from left and right, behind and above!

  Shaggy creatures, especially notable due to their stench, filth coating their thick and tangled fur, came rushing. A horrifying sight to see with the claws extending from their six legs—or was it arms? The nails clicked as they scurried across the floor. Their grip on the surface explained the holes pinpricking the ceiling and walls.

  As Nema dropped into a battle stance, for a moment she heard her grandmother. No one must know. No one could see what she could do. What she was capable of because the Lake had blessed her.

  But if she died in this place, then her planet would remain in peril, threatened by the evil lurking in this place.

  Ray snapped, “Get behind me.”

  Whereas Zak exclaimed, “Run back to that last intersection and wait for us.”

  Run like a coward? Hide as if she couldn’t fight?

  Ignoring both males, she brought her hands together in front of her, sword hilt clasped between them, eyes shut. She relaxed and opened herself up.

  Mighty Lake, your handmaiden requests thy aid in defeating the enemy. Will you bless me?

  We will.

  The essence within her surged, filling every muscle, nerve, and tendon. Giving her the grace and strength to do battle.

  Nema moved, faster than the creatures, ducking under swinging claws, her sword gutting as she swept past. She popped to her feet and jabbed it over her shoulder, impaling another that would have ambushed. She wrenched it through flesh, ignoring the wet splat, and sliced it down, removing an arm. A leg went flying. Gore spilled on the floor, making it slippery. The amount of attacks lessened until there was nothing left.

  Nothing but her, covered head to toe in filth, and her Siyborgh lovers gaping at her.

  “You can fight,” Ray stated, somewhat stunned.

  “She’s better even than Ursy,” Zak exclaimed.

  “But how? You don’t have any upgrades.”

  Not true. She had the only one that counted. The spirit of her Lake, and—surging high on the adrenaline of battle—it urged her forward.

  “Shall we see what lies behind that door?” One giant round portal stood in their way, a gear symbol engraved upon it. She wiped her hand clean of gore, nicked her finger for fresh blood, and pressed it against the seal.

  For a moment she thought it wouldn’t work. Then, with a grinding of cogs, the portal rolled open.

  They’d found the center of the maze.

  And it wasn’t empty.

  19

  Ray blinked at the man standing in the center of the room alongside a sarcophagus bigger than the one the temple on their world housed. But of more intrigue was the fact that he recognized the figure that beat them to it.

  “You!” He jabbed a finger. “What are you doing here?” The Tinqqer who’d started them on a quest for the God Gear stood within the room, wearing a robe and sporting the same annoying smile.

  “You know this male?” Nema asked.

  Ray nodded. “That’s Marius Snype. The creator of the drones we’ve been tracking. A maker of cogs.”

  “But that’s not my true name,” Snypes announced. “In another life, I was known as Artuur of Avhallonn.”

  The announcement brought a scowl to Nem
a’s face. “The Lake remembers you. Thief.” She spat the word, but the robed figure didn’t flinch, only bowed his head in reply.

  “Hold on a tic. You know him?” Ray asked.

  “I know of the name. It is in our history books from ages ago. Artuur, once the High Lord of the Mountain and husband to the Lady of the Lake. Until he stole that most precious and sacred of fluids.”

  Artuur/Marius bowed his head. “A mistake I’ve come to regret. Which is why I summoned you here.”

  “We didn’t receive a summons,” Ray clarified. “We came looking for some gears.”

  “I know. I know all about your journey.”

  “How?” Ray asked. “Have you been spying on us?”

  “In a sense. I tried to send out my bait far and wide, but not all of it obeyed my command. I have grown weak.”

  The word “bait” hung in the air, and Ray’s gut clenched. “What is this place? Why have you brought us here?”

  “Welcome to my tomb.” Artuur/Marius swept a hand. “The planet where it all began is where I came to lay my head down a final time. The ticking down of the clock should have wiped this place clean of my existence. But in that I failed, too. That which I stole maintained a stronger desire to live than I expected.”

  Nema’s lip curled. “This perversion in the latmevilium is your fault. How could you force the waters you stole to bond with metal? How could you take it so far from home? You betrayed the Lake. Your people.”

  “I did.” Snype kept his head bowed. “And in retrospect, there is no real defense for my actions. My companions and I only wished for a different way of life. However, we discovered too late that the Lake couldn’t just survive within us. We needed a way to share it, a way for it to reproduce.”

  Ray interrupted. “What is this Lake you keep yammering about?”

  It was Nema who replied, staring at Snype the entire time. “It is the most sacred thing on Avhallonn. Those upon whom it bestows its blessing become—”

  “Powerful. Immortal. Unstoppable.” Snype was the one to finish her phrase, and not in the way Nema would have, judging by her frown.

  “The waters are about keeping peace. Being in harmony with oneself and the world around.”

  “Something I learned too late.” Snype sighed. “I thought Avhallonn foolish for remaining hidden. We could have been conquerors. And for a while, after I stole a grail filled with the waters, I was a god. I discovered how to stretch the little water I had. I built temples. Had acolytes. Ruled the universes and had countless worshipping me.”

  “I hear a but,” Zak muttered.

  “Being almighty didn’t bring happiness. In leaving Avhallonn, I lost the only thing that truly mattered. A home.”

  Ray frowned as he processed the unfolding tale. “So you stole some sacred water, which you then forced to bond with the latmevilium, giving it special properties. I get that. What I don’t understand is where the idea for gears came from.”

  “Nostalgia. When I left Avhallonn, I discovered a world of machines. Wonderful machines with intricate parts, each working together with a specific purpose. It inspired me because, while I discovered I could preserve what I had of the Lake by melding it with metal, the result wasn’t at all like bathing in the Lake’s waters. The metal became sentient but required a shape, and instruction on how to enhance its hosts.”

  “You forced it to do your bidding,” Nema said with a sneer.

  Placing a hand on the coffin, Snype bowed his head. “I did. To my eternal shame, I made it a slave to my will and ignored the cries to set it free. Which led to what happened next.”

  “The water you stole changed. Without the source, it lost its way,” Nema whispered, her expression bereft.

  “An apt summary. As with any prisoner, that which started out pure tainted over time.” Snype’s lips turned down. “But I didn’t realize it in time. The taint in the metal grew, as did its sentience. It wanted to live. To grow. To conquer. I went from being master to being told how to create even more. It guided me into discovering innovative ways to blend it with bodies. Enhancing them. All the while I was seeding its presence throughout the universes. For a time, I lost myself. I, and the others chosen to be gods by my side, we did terrible things. Decimated entire worlds and rendered so many extinct.” His face turned sorrowful. “And then, one day, I came to my senses. Too late for the bodies at the bottom of the cliff. They’d hurled themselves to death rather than be infected with the metal I’d brought to their world. Determined to stop the evil I’d wrought, I hunted down my friends. Buried them in tombs and set timers on their world clocks to ensure their destruction. That no one might ever be given that kind of power again.”

  “You kind of failed at that, too. The Siyborghs found your temple on our world. The clock is still ticking,” Zak observed.

  Snype’s expression twisted. “Because the latmevilium wasn’t about to allow me to destroy it. It slowed down the machinery, waiting for a new host to carry out its plan. Even then, a few relics wouldn’t have been so bad. I never realized how badly I’d misjudged its desire to live.” Snype swept a hand. “Despite my destroying the factory, it spent eons rebuilding. Quietly planning to emerge once more, but this time, I wouldn’t be there to stop it.”

  “Er, is it just me, or are you standing in front of us?” Zak pointed.

  “This body is not my own.” Snype glanced down at it. “It belongs to an explorer who made it to my tomb and managed to pry a gear from my coffin. A gear with my spirit inside. Ever since my reawakening, I’ve been subtly working to end the temples.”

  “By sending us on a quest to find parts?” Ray wasn’t sure he followed the logic.

  “Not you. I sought my people.” He jabbed a finger at Nema. “I needed Avhallonn to realize the danger and stop it.”

  “You could have sent us a message.” Her sarcasm was thick.

  “I did. The drones were that message. Programmed to go home.”

  “We only encountered one.”

  “Because the others were decoys. I am not free to act as I wish and had to couch my actions.”

  “I call rusted sludge on that assertion,” Zak interjected. “If you’re such a prisoner to the latmevilium, then how come it allowed you to leave here?”

  “Because it thought I did its will. By pretending, I was able to send out the drones and find someone who could help me stop what I started.”

  “How? I don’t know what you expect us to do,” Ray replied.

  “Destroy it. Destroy it before it eradicates all life for good.”

  Snype said the words, but they whispered all around, trembled through his flesh, and all his cogs spun rapidly in reply.

  But not everything was happy with Snype’s solution. The floor underfoot rumbled, shaking hard enough they had to hold on to each other for balance.

  “What’s happening?” Zak yelled.

  “The factory is upset with my plan,” Snype said.

  “It’s alive?” Doubt filled Ray’s query.

  “Alive? Sentient? Does it matter? It’s been moving toward this moment since I tried to destroy it. Many of the temples did their best to stop what had to happen.”

  “Because no one wants to die.” She sighed.

  “You must right the wrong I started. Find the grail in the heart of the factory. It still holds the water I stole. Free it and stop this madness before it’s too late.”

  “I thought we were in the heart,” Ray grumbled as the floor heaved again. But more ominous was the whirring sound as of hundreds of angry insects.

  “Go, now, quickly,” Snype urged.

  Expression intent, Nema asked. “Where?”

  “A vent beneath my coffin. It goes down to the core of this place.”

  “And then what? How do we get back to our ship?” Ray asked the most important thing. How would they escape?

  Snype never got a chance to answer. The giant sprocket came out of nowhere and slammed into his body. Even Ray winced at the mess.

&nb
sp; “We have to go.” Nema, who didn’t need any rescuing at it turned out, was the first to put her shoulder to the coffin. Zak quickly joined her, but Ray hesitated for a moment.

  A good thing, too, as more things flew from the walls. Springs let loose, sending a stream of cogs. He batted them down with his large knife then held up his geared arm to shield them.

  “I’ll be rusted right through. There is a ventilation grate under here,” Zak exclaimed,

  “Better move fast. We’re about to have company.” The hum increased in pitch, and Ray turned to his friends in time to see Nema drop into the shaft with Zak saluting him before he jumped, too. Just as Ray teetered on the lip, the first buzz smacked him in the head.

  “Incoming,” he yelled before stepping off the edge. Now most people wouldn’t toss themselves into an unknown shaft, but when the situation called for it…

  He plummeted what felt like several stories before he heard Zak yelling, “Boots!”

  A click of his heels and the mini thrusters on the bottom engaged, slowing his descent until he landed beside his friends, who’d already busted through the next grate and stood on a metal catwalk.

  Only as he looked at Nema’s feet, with her ordinary boots, did he say, “How did she stop?”

  “She’s magic!” Zak’s reply.

  Whereas she smirked. “The Lake blesses me.”

  “What else can it do?”

  “Lesson on the Lake later. We have to find the grail and get out of here.”

  Indeed, the angry hum appeared to be getting louder. The thought of having to battle mechanical drones didn’t exactly appeal. And neither did anything in this tomb.

  It was at that moment he realized that, despite the fact the room above had held a treasure trove of gears, he had no interest in any of them. He even felt uncomfortable knowing something created via coercion existed within him.

  “What is this place?” Zak asked.

  At the query, Ray took a moment to glance around, noticing that the upper level that they’d taken for the heart was false. Down here existed the true belly of the factory beast. Cogs of all sizes were piled in heaps, waiting their turn to be pinched one by one by a mechanical arm and dipped in a battered chalice, the metal of it a tarnished green. And was it him or did every dip of a cog result in a moan?