Mech 3: The Empress (29 page)

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Authors: B. V. Larson

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BOOK: Mech 3: The Empress
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Hours later, in the depths of the night, they coupled repeatedly. Aldo was still unsure of exactly
why
she allowed the activity. He sensed in her manner a deep, resentful anger. What was she hiding below the surface?

He could not help but wonder what he had gotten himself into now.

 

#

 

Sixty-Two felt increasingly safe as his army marched on through the wilds of Twilight toward the frozen wastes of Nightside. Each clanking step took them farther from the warmth and light of the red star behind them. The sun was still visible, a crimson gleaming line on the distant horizon. The suntrees were gone now, no longer capable of surviving in this environment. They’d been replaced by sticky, cauliflower-shaped fungi that hugged the ground and caught on one’s foot as they were trampled down. The temperature of the air was dropping, and the wind speeds were increasing. Soon, there would be snowy patches on the ground and flakes swirling around every mech in his army. Sixty-Two felt like a thief in the night—but a happy thief that has escaped unscathed into the gathering dusk.

The mechs pressed onward. They found a small, frosty lake and saw crusts of ice accumulating on the farther, darker shore. Sixty-Two broadcast an immediate command: “Enter the waters of the lake. Walk across on the bottom and surface on the far side.”

 Without a moment’s hesitation, his army plunged in, and he followed them. They walked the bottom for two full minutes before reaching the far shore. Sixty-Two led them up into the air again, watching steam pour off every one of his comrades as their hot bodies turned the dripping lake water into vapor.

On the icy shoreline, they were startled by a massive rush of bats—or the equivalent of bats here in deep Twilight. Called ‘leather-wings’ by locals, a flock of the creatures had been feeding along the shores of the inky-black lake. Due to their proximity to permanent darkness, this species used sonar to echo-locate objects around them. When alarmed, they made a high-pitched racket that few enjoyed. The flapping leather-wings screamed and squeaked, hurling themselves from the ground in a swirling storm. Sixty-Two led his mech army through the flock, and he noticed most mechs appeared oblivious to the creatures. A notable exception was Lizett, who flailed with her grippers and made keening noises of distress with her speakers.

Sixty-Two approached her. “Lizett, are you malfunctioning?”

“I hate these things!”

Sixty-Two snapped his orb-shields closed then open again in surprise. Then he laughed. “They can’t harm you, not even if you
were
still clothed in flesh. They only eat fungus and lake mosses.”

“I know,” she said, calming somewhat in his presence. “But they still upset me.”

For some reason, Sixty-Two found Lizett’s dislike of the leather-wings endearing. He marched with her, discussing the growing darkness around them, and what they would do when the sun was gone from the sky forever. Lizett didn’t like the idea of living in darkness, even if her orbs could see heat signatures and would allow her to navigate by starlight.

Sixty-Two suddenly recalled Lizett’s burden and became concerned. She carried the human pilgrim they’d found on the highway in a skin sack on her back. He had charged her with this responsibility because she was the only non-combatant in the group. “What of the man in your charge? Has he survived the trip through the lake?”

“I’m not sure. Let’s check.”

Together, they opened the skin sack. A skinny, wet, shivering man stared back out of the sack at them.

“He lives,” Lizett said.

Sixty-Two looked doubtfully at the wretch. “It will soon become too cold for him. And if we walk through any more freezing lakes, he will surely perish.”

Lizett looked up at Sixty-Two with quivering orbs. “I don’t want him to die. I want to keep him.”

“Yes, well, hmm. Skald, do you have any thoughts toward the betterment of your situation? It will soon be well below the point of freezing, and you are wearing only the thinnest of rags. Would you prefer to walk on the ground?”

The skald licked his lips. He stood in the sack warily and looked around himself. “Are those spiny ground-creatures that surround us dangerous?”

“Quite.”

“Then I would rather ride, but please place me near your heat sinks, Lizett. And allow me to stand up in the sack and examine my surroundings for danger. Lastly, no more underwater excursions, please.”

“Yes, sorry about that,” Lizett said. “I’d forgotten about you.”

“I forgot as well,” Sixty-Two said. “I’ve got an army to lead. You understand, don’t you?”

“It is your army that interests me.”

“You still haven’t told me what you seek in Nightside, human.”

“I seek something lost, and also something found.”

Sixty-Two snapped his orb-shields at this. The human seemed to believe he was speaking in a perfectly clear manner—but Sixty-Two had no idea what he was talking about. The human had explained that a wise, ancient being known as a
Tulk
resided in his skull and referred to this being as his ‘rider’. Sixty-Two had his doubts. Quite possibly, the human was simply mad. But he was more interesting than the majority of his mech companions, and so he’d allowed the odd little wretch to accompany them.

Lizett arranged the skin sack on her broad steel back in the fashion the skald had suggested.  The skald hugged her dorsal heatsink fins, which generated a great deal of warmth when she marched even in this environment.

“Come Lizett,” Sixty-Two said, “we will march together.”

“I don’t like this darkness and cold,” she complained. “It’s getting worse all the time. Why did we have to come here?”

“Fleeing people have sought out darkness for all history.”

“Yes, but I don’t want to leave the sun behind forever. It was too harsh out in the open of Sunside, but I liked the balanced warmth and light of Twilight. I can see why the humans cling so much to that part of the world.”

“Clearly, it is preferable,” Sixty-Two admitted.

“When might we return? When will the humans accept our independence and allow us to share the warm lands, rather than hide from them in these grim deserts of hot and cold?”

“I don’t know, Lizett. Perhaps, someday they will live at peace with us. But that time is not yet at hand.”

Lizett fell into a moody silence, as did the rest of the world around them. After another dozen miles, they left the last scrim of the hundred mile wide strip of land known as Twilight. They’d finally reached the frozen wilds of Nightside. Looking back, there was not even a glimmer of red sunlight to be seen. The only hint of warmth was the pinkish hue of the horizon clouds. Ahead, the skies purpled then finally turned black. Stars dotted the heavens, brilliant, white and pure. A few stars were close enough to stand out among the others. Hanging over the North Pole were the twin stars Thor and Loki, Thor a red giant that fed an endless stream of super-heated plasma to the vampirical white dwarf Loki. Scattered across the central region of the sky was a group of closer, brighter suns.

“Are those bright lights the Faustian Chain?” Lizett asked.

“Yes,” Sixty-Two said in a hushed voice. “What do you think of them, Lizett?”

“They are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I feel the same.”

Sixty-Two marched onward, tilting his orbs up frequently at the starlit sky. Perhaps, he thought, his experiments in freeing the minds of mechs had not been in vain. At least Lizett was able to appreciate a starry night when she saw it. Would it have been better to be happier, but oblivious to nature’s wonders? He wasn’t sure, but the stars and Lizett’s companionship heartened him nonetheless.

He glanced over at the skald, who now stood erect in the skin sack and hugged Lizett’s heat-sinks. Another oddity in his company. This man was stranger than anyone he’d ever encountered. He seemed both fearless and timid at once. Could he really have an alien in his skull, or was he simply addled? Time would tell, he supposed. Sixty-Two made a mental note: in the event of the skald’s death, he would open that skull and have a look at the contents for himself.

 

#

 

Nina trailed the mech army to the shores of a dark, nameless lake. She didn’t like it here. Twilight was an alien place when one came very close to Nightside. There was still life in abundance—but it was strange, twisted life. Creatures adapted to permanent cold were rarely beautiful, pleasant beings. There were fields of spiny predators that resembled sea anemones. They could be found with increasing frequency on the ground, hiding among the fungus. They were deadly to a human with an unprotected foot. Camouflaged to look like a normal fungal growth, their toxic spines would paralyze a warm-blooded creature that dared touch them. Then, over a period of hours, the spiny little devils would cluster on the living victim and suck away every drop of hot blood with leach-like mouths they had at the base of their bodies.

She glided on her mount over the lake, causing silver furls of water to spread behind her. The leather-wings on the far side were stirred up, she saw. They were too smart to fall prey to the spiny leeches, but they were skittish anyway. She snapped on a saddle lamp and examined the dark ground. A thousand slushy imprints told the tale.

“They crossed here?” Old Hans asked, pulling up alongside her.

“So it would appear.”

“Can we be sure they all left the lake, Baroness? Some of the machines could still be hiding down there. Perhaps they plan to rise up and stalk us from behind.”

Nina shook her head. “I doubt it. So far, they’ve stayed tightly grouped. I doubt they even realize we’re in pursuit. No. They are driving hard—but where are they headed?”

The question had troubled her increasingly as she continued her march after the mechs. She also worried she would lose them in the wilds of Nightside. They may well slip away from her entirely before she could gather sufficient forces to make an attack. It was frustrating.

Later they made camp. She’d ordered everyone to change into their thermal suits for travel in the bitter cold that lie ahead.

Studying maps in her sealed tent, she received a buzzing summons from Lavender City. Her eyes slid to the ID code. Her lips twisted. It was Duchess Embrak herself, who ruled the rich duchy that included one of the greatest cities on the planet.

Nina took a deep breath, reconfigured her face into a stern, competent expression that befitted a military commander, and answered the call. “Yes, Your Grace?”

“I have granted your request for support troops, Nina.”

Nina stiffened at the informal use of her first name. When not in front of the council, the Duchess had repeatedly ignored her title. Nina felt it was a subtle insult, meant to indicate she was still a mere child. Still, she was glad to hear her requests had not fallen on deaf ears. She had called for her home army back at Droad House, but they had not yet arrived. The Lavender City reserves were much closer.

“Excellent, Embrak,” Nina said, purposefully dropping the Duchess’ title. She did not quite dare use the Duchess’ first name—which was Beatrice. Nina knew the woman wasn’t fond of her name, and would take its use as a direct affront.  Nina wanted her offhand reference to be a subtle insult.

The Duchess’ brow grew stormy. “My title is Duchess.”

“Have you taken offense? I’m so sorry, I mistook your familiar speech for an invitation to drop formalities.”

The Duchess formed her face into a tight grimace. “I shall let it pass. The troops are my own. They will be coming with a new commander—one who I believe is familiar to you.”

“Who might that be?”

“Aldo Moreno. He will be in command of my troops. I’ve commissioned him in the service of my duchy.”

Nina’s mouth sagged open. She snapped it shut again, so as not to look the fool. “I—I don’t understand, Duchess.”

“Duchess again, is it? Very well, I shall explain: he has combat experience. He is a Nexus representative. He was once associated with your father. I’ve selected him to command my troops on this basis.”

“Who shall be in overall command of the mission?”

“It will be a joint venture between the two of you. Did you think I would place my personal army completely at your disposal? I’m not quite as taken with you as the rest of the council. You are young, inexperienced and I find you to be—overreaching.”

Nina fought to control her expression. She swallowed hard, and when she spoke again, her voice cracked slightly. “The Ruling Council has ordained me as—”

“The Ruling Council has no jurisdiction under these circumstances. These troops are my own, the defenders of
my
duchy. I’m free to choose my own commander.”

“In that case, I must refuse your aid.”

The Duchess’ eyebrows shot high in mock surprise. “Really? You will take on the mechs with your one hundred knights alone, then?”

“No. I will await the arrival of my full forces from Droad House. We will lose a day or two, but the mechs will not escape in that time.”

“Ah, I have another point to pass on in that case: the army is to remain on station at Droad House. With the invasion of the system imminent, we can’t afford to have the army roaming Nightside and out of reach. They must be ready to move within Twilight for defensive purposes.”

Nina didn’t know what to say. She’d been set up. She thought about resigning on the spot, telling the Duchess she could keep her troops and Aldo both—but she didn’t. She didn’t want to see the mechs escape her again. She thought of Leon, and how they had killed him. She nodded at last, deciding to endure these insults for now. She had no choice if she wanted to stop the mechs from vanishing into Nightside.

“I will accept your terms, under protest.”

The Duchess nodded, unsurprised. “Very well. Report your progress within the ten-day.”

Nina murmured her agreement. Both women reached out to break the connection as quickly as possible.

Flopping back in her chair, Nina cursed for a full minute.

The slippery Aldo Moreno. How had he managed to maneuver his way into a command position under the Duchess so quickly? Nina had a very good idea what the answer to that question was—and it made her furious.

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