‘I’m sorry, we have to move on.’ Melt flexed his arms and shoulders.
‘We understand.’
‘I want to thank you for your help,’ said Melt. ‘If there is anything we can do for you?’
Through the smoke that filled the chamber, Karel saw how Gail and the rest of the robots smiled at that.
‘You could accept a gift from us,’ said Gail. ‘Would you do that?’
‘We would be delighted,’ said Melt, not seeming to notice the look that Karel directed towards him.
‘Then, please, take these, as a token of our respect for you.’
Gail held out both hands. A scrap of silver wire lay on each palm.
‘Thank you,’ said Melt, reaching out to take one. Karel pushed the leaden robot’s hand away. He leaned forward suspiciously, to get a better look at the gifts. Two pieces of metal, two scraps of silver wire.
‘What’s the matter, Karel?’ said Melt. ‘It’s only metal…’
Karel peered closer. It was only metal. So what was wrong? And then he saw it. They were moving.
‘No!’ shouted Karel, slapping Gail’s hands away. The two twists of metal flew somewhere in the room.
‘Oh Karel,’ said Gail, in such disappointed tones that Karel felt ashamed of himself. ‘It was a gift!’
Melt lurched to his feet, heavy body at the ready to fight.
‘What is it, Karel?’
‘Worms!’ said Karel. ‘No wonder they care so little about metal!’
‘Worms?’ said Melt, confused.
‘A story from the Northern Lands. Worms that creep into your head whilst you are sleeping, they twist themselves into the metal of your mind. They work on your thoughts, twisting the wire in your head into copies of themselves.’
‘They bring peace and happiness and understanding,’ said Gail. ‘How can you condemn what you haven’t tried?’
‘And you did say you would accept our gift,’ reminded Levine, the former princess. She had retrieved the two twists of silver from where they had fallen. Now she held them out on one thin, bent palm. Karel saw them wriggling, sensing the lifeforce in his mind, turning their little blunt upper ends in his direction.
‘We’re leaving now,’ said Karel turning to go. Something was blocking the mine entrance. Fleet. There were four other robots with him. These robots were nowhere near as badly rusted as Gail and the rest. Two of them wore the bodies of Artmesian infantry.
‘All the robots who take the worms return here in the end,’ said Gail. ‘They come back to the spawning ground.’
‘Try it,’ said Levine. ‘You promised.’
Melt swung a heavy cast iron arm and smashed her hands away.
‘Stop that!’ shouted one of the infantryrobots by the door.
‘Peace,’ said Gail. ‘Metal doesn’t matter, Kerban. You will see that in time.’
Kerban? That was an Artemisian name! To think that an Artemisian would come to believe that metal was not important! They had to go, now.
‘Let us past,’ he said.
Fleet moved to push him back into the chamber. The two infantryrobots stepped forward to help.
‘Hold them down,’ said Gail. ‘Once the worms enter their minds we will let them go as they please. They will return here in the end.’
The two infantryrobots seized Karel’s arms. He tried to tug them free.
‘Easy,’ said one of them.
Karel kicked down, dented a robot’s shin. It didn’t care.
‘Melt!’ he said. ‘Run!’
Run? The word was ridiculous. Even scraped of metal as he was, Melt could barely walk. He knew it. Gail knew it. She hadn’t even bothered to try and restrain the heavy robot.
‘Let him go,’ said Melt.
‘Melt, don’t be stupid! Get away!’
‘Are you suggesting I have so little honour?’ said Melt. ‘I used to be a soldier.’ And he reached into the fire with both hands and pulled out two burning coals. The robots in the chamber watched, frozen, as he pushed them into the neck of one of the infantry-robots, screwing them back and forth, squeezing hot coal past the panelling. The robot let out an electronic squeal and Karel pulled his arm free of its grasp. Now Melt clasped his hands together and brought them down as hard as he could on the head of the other robot, badly denting the metal skull.
The other robots moved forward. Melt took hold of one of them and pulled backwards, using his considerable weight against it. He swung the robot around and slammed it into the others with a ringing crash.
‘Now we run,’ said Melt.
Out of the cave, into the darkness, sliding down the rain-soaked grass.
Karel and Melt tumbled down the slope, rolling back towards the town, scraping on stones, slipping on the turf.
They reached the bottom in a tangled clash of metal. With some difficulty, they got to their feet, bodies badly dented.
‘They’re not following us,’ said Karel, looking backwards.
‘They won’t. We’re too much trouble.’
‘Where did you learn to fight like that?’ asked Karel, eyes bright so he could see Melt in the darkness.
‘I… don’t remember,’ said Melt, and again Karel knew he was lying. But that was for later.
‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Maybe Morphobia Alligator was right.’
‘In what way?’