The city had become the target for every grievance, grudge and dream on the continent. Even the railway lines seemed affected: where once they had seemed to spread across the land, carrying Artemis across the continent, now they seemed to converge upon the city.
Kavan had divided the Uncertain Army into two wide columns. It had been his original intention to plunge the army straight into the heart of the city, but, in consultation with Ada, that plan had changed. Calor and the other Scouts had brought him word of other troops, also marching. There were robots heading towards the city from all directions. The remnants of Stark, armoured divisions who had long waged guerrilla war against Artemis from the central mountain range, were approaching the city from the west. A company had emerged from the sea near Turing City State and were marching north. And then there was Goeppert and the robots who had joined them from Raman and Born. ..
Kavan spoke a lot with Goeppert and Ada as they marched south, the Uncertain Army raising trails of dust into the bright sky. They were discussing tactics, constantly updating their plans on the basis of information brought to them by Calor and the rest.
It looked like it was going to be a siege, not that Kavan should have expected anything else from Spoole and the Generals. Actually, it was a sensible tactic on their part. They held the advantage. This land had long been stripped almost bare by Artemis. The little metal that remained was now being removed too. Kavan saw the last trains retreating ahead of them, loaded up with coal and ore and the disassembled parts of the few scattered forges and factories that had lain on this plain. After they had passed by, the railway lines themselves were taken up and pulled back into the city.
‘How much further?’ Kavan asked Calor.
‘One day’s travel. You’ll be there tonight.’
‘What will I find?’
‘There are three huge moats dug around the city, one inside the other. They have left troops marooned on the banks of the trenches, conscripts mostly.’
‘Good. If we lay bridges to them, then they will join us.’
‘There are Storm Troopers amongst them, Kavan. They will make them fight to the death, one way or another.’
‘Is there no way around the moats?’
‘None. The city is completely isolated. Beyond the trenches, they have built a wall of iron. One hundred feet high and twenty feet thick.’
‘It won’t be solid iron,’ laughed Ada. ‘That would be ten and a half million cubic feet of iron per mile!’
Calor glanced at Ada and buzzed in frustration.
‘Go on, Calor,’ said Kavan.
She turned back to Kavan. ‘Every three hundred feet there is a guard tower, and on each tower there are cannons.’
‘I wonder how the people within the city feel about that? They will know that hiding behind walls is not Nyro’s way.’
The morning was bright and still cold from the night. It felt good to march across the flat plain, electromuscles pleasantly cool, the ground firm beneath his feet. Despite the fact he had rarely been there, Kavan felt as if he was coming home. The other robots felt it too, he was sure. There were so many of them, they were marching with a purpose towards Artemis City. They could see it in the distance, like a ship sailing across a calm sea, trailing smoke behind it.
‘There are already soldiers taking up positions around the city,’ said Calor.
‘Where have they come from?’
‘Some of them are your own troops, Kavan. Scouts and infantry-robots who have gone ahead of the pack. Some of them have just turned up on their own.’
‘And what have the people in the city done?’
‘Nothing, as yet. A few stray shots, the odd canon shell.’
‘Then they’ve lost already,’ said Kavan. ‘If I were in that city I would have sent out a party of soldiers to wipe out small concentrations of the enemy before they had a chance to set up their positions. Why make things easy for them?’
‘They can’t come out,’ said Calor. ‘They are trapped behind their own moats.’
‘There are no drawbridges?’
‘There isn’t even a gate in their iron wall.’
‘Then they’ve not only locked us out, they’ve locked their own robots in.’
‘They’re not true Artemisians.’ said Calor.
‘No,’ said Kavan, but he was experiencing something very rare. Doubt. Spoole wasn’t a fool. Why would he trap himself like that? What were they planning in there?
Kavan had travelled a long way. Starting alone on the northern coast of Shull, he had walked over a thousand miles, through hills and valleys, over the mountains, and finally over this vast plain, all the while picking up an army as he went.
Well, an army of sorts.
It lacked discipline and organization, but to Kavan it was just another tool to Nyro’s purpose. All that metal would end up in the forges and furnaces of Artemis City one way or other. Even himself.
And now he was finally arriving at his destination, just as night approached. He walked near the centre of the army, as he had done all the way here, not quite a leader, not quite a prisoner.
Ahead of him two streams of metal were flowing around the city. The sparks and flames from the distant chimneys danced, half seen, against the darkening sky. The tiny figures of robots could be seen on the top of the iron wall, rushing this way and that, getting themselves into position. Kavan thought he could hear sirens sounding from inside the city.
Closer and closer, he became aware of something that had been a growing presence in his life these past few weeks, something he had put from his mind: the sound of marching feet. The hum and spark and crash of so much metal, striking the ground as one. He realized something else: that over time these robots, this ramshackle array of men and women, had gradually begun to march in time with each other. Order had arisen from the chaos, and Kavan felt an incredible sense of inevitability as to what was to follow. He looked at Goeppert, marching nearby, strange elongated body keeping perfect time, and he was struck by a sudden insight. He, Kavan, was in the middle of a story, a story that would maybe one day find itself written in the Book of Robots – if indeed such a thing existed.
Now he had reached the place where the columns divided, and he followed the left-hand stream. To his side he saw, not four hundred yards away, the edge of the first moat. And beyond that, the grey bodies of infantryrobots, marooned there to fight him and his army. They just stood and gazed at the seemingly endless stream of robots that marched past them. No one on the moat raised a gun in challenge, nor did any members of the Uncertain Army.
Kavan marched on, following the length of the iron wall to his right. From the ramparts, more robots gazed down at him, their gradually darkening silhouettes lit by the golden light behind them.
A flash of silver, and Calor appeared at his side.
‘Something’s up, Kavan. They just stand there, watching us.’
‘They’ll be hoping to settle this by words,’ replied Kavan.
The robots ahead were coming to a halt; a wave of stationary metal seemed to travel back through the moving stream.
Kavan, Ada, Calor, Goeppert and the rest stopped. They turned to face the city.
‘Now what?’ asked Calor.
Kavan looked to the left and right, searching for any signs of weakness in the seemingly impassable wall. There were none. For the moment.
‘Now what?’ repeated Calor.
‘Is there any question about it?’ said Kavan. ‘Now we attack.’
Years ago, Karel had told her about the Centre City, long before the war had come to Turing City State.
‘It’s the utility of the place, Susan,’ he had said, eyes glowing as he remembered his recent trip. ‘Everything is just iron and steel and brick. There is no decoration, no paint, save what they use to keep the rust at bay. I walked down streets surrounded by grey and green and blue robots, and I saw nothing there that didn’t have a purpose.’