‘That means she wants water,’ said Valve. ‘I sent the Scout to get some. She’s fussy. Seawater is no good; it has to be from the stream.’
‘Okay.’ Kavan gazed at the creature, weighing it up.
‘Four of you looking after her, the humans constantly searching for her. I wonder if it’s worth the effort to keep her?’
‘Oh yes, Kavan, I’m sure it is. There is so much to learn.’
‘In other circumstances I may agree with you. I came fifty miles hoping to question this creature, and now I find that I can’t. The longer we hold her in one place, the more likely the animals will find her. We can’t take her out of here now; they would spot her in minutes. You know, we would do better examining her body, learning how it works. We’ve never had a whole one before.’
The creature was looking at him. Her blue eyes were wider, he could see the whites around them.
‘She knows,’ said Kavan. ‘Look at her; she knows what we’re talking about.’
Kavan wasn’t cruel, it wasn’t woven into him. He was merely ruthless. ‘I should make a decision quickly,’ he said. ‘To do otherwise would needlessly prolong this creature’s agony.’
‘Give me a day,’ pleaded Valve. ‘I’m sure I can find out something of worth.’
‘Like what? How the flying craft work? I have engineers that can do that. What their plans are? We know that. They will continue to expand across Shull. I’ve already wasted two days on this. Kill her and put her out of her misery.’
‘No!’ said Valve. ‘They’re different when they’re dead. They’re not like robots! You don’t understand, the whole body just stops working when the mind dies. I need to examine her whilst she’s still alive. Let me block the mouth so she can’t make any noise. I can cut her open, see how the parts move.’
Kavan held the creature’s eye. She did know, she had some inkling about what was being said. She was terrified, and yet, she was fighting not to show it. He admired that.
‘No,’ said Kavan. ‘That would be too cruel. We’re robots, not animals. We kill for a reason, and we do it quickly. We don’t torture. Shoot her in the head, do it fast so she doesn’t know.’
One of the infantryrobots raised its rifle and fired. Grey gel, streaked with red, splattered over Kavan’s body. The dead creature slumped to the ground.
‘It’s a pity,’ said Kavan, stirring one of the creature’s legs with his foot. ‘Maybe later there will be a time to get to know more about them, once we’ve regained control of Artemis City.’
‘If we regain control,’ said Valve. He looked wistfully at the dead creature. ‘I would have like to have spoken some more.’
He brightened up.
‘Still, at least now we get to take a look inside a healthy one.’
Kavan began to wipe the grey gel from his body.
‘What now?’ asked Calor.
‘I think it’s time,’ said Kavan. ‘We’ve spent enough time here on the periphery.’
He looked down at the dead animal. Strange to think that something so soft could cause so much trouble.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I think it’s time to return to Artemis City. Send out the word.’
The evening sky was flushing a deep red: it was the colour of the forge reflected on the roof of the world. The world was warping all around him, its struts and beams under pressure from the animals who had come from the stars.
The city was a slowly heating pyre, out there in the hot summer countryside robots were being moved to rebellion.
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do watched as the lake turned black, saw the red fire withdraw as the sun set behind the city.
The night was approaching.
Even as he waited for the enemy, there on the dark terrace, the stars switching on above him, even as felt the fear that hummed in the city below, even as he struggled with that mix of boredom and anticipation of the coming attack, even then Wa-Ka-Mo-Do still found the human guns incredibly erotic.
There was something about the machinery, the way the impossibly smooth metal slipped seamlessly together, the dark sheen of the alien alloy, the way that it shimmered in star light as if it were slicked in oil. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do had touched a barrel, revelled guiltily in the sleek smoothness, the absolutely zero static charge. What was it about these weapons? Did the humans deliberately build them to look so feminine? Were they even aware of what they had done? Wa-Ka-Mo-Do doubted it. It was obvious that the humans had little regard for what robots thought.
The land seemed darker in contrast to the brilliance of the rising moon, but the lake… The lake reflected the universe in curdled white clouds. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do looked at the stars, shining in the water. That was where the humans had come from, he thought. What else lurked out there? For that matter, what else was lurking here on Penrose, just beyond the horizons? The robots of Yukawa had lived in splendid isolation for so long. Now the universe had come looking for them.
He wondered how La-Ver-Di-Arussah and Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah were getting on. He had sent them down into the city to try and calm the population. The streets below sounded quiet for the moment, but he knew that wouldn’t last with La-Ver-Di-Arussah down there. Still, if she had remained up here the two of them would probably be fighting each other by now.
It was peaceful for the moment, though. An island of calm under the stars. Somewhere out there humans were grouping to attack. Land ploughed up and covered in alien crops that poisoned the native life of Yukawa was being trodden by robots speaking openly of rebellion. And here he stood, in this square with humans on one hand and robots on the other, and somewhere in the Copper Master’s house Li-Kallalla would be piecing together the parts of the radio, and for the moment keeping quiet about what he, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, had done. How long would this suspended moment last? He was happy to have nothing for company but these darkly fascinating machines, singing with that strange alien electricity.
The guns suddenly raised themselves into the air and turned as one to face the same direction. A rapid pumping sound started up. There was remarkably little noise, it was almost a rippling of the air, but Wa-Ka-Mo-Do saw the electromagnetic field formed by so much metal being sprayed through the planet’s own magnetic field. Orange light flared, out there in the distance of the night. The firing ceased, the guns turned their heads a little and then immediately resumed. Another orange explosion. The guns moved once more. Something was coming out of the night, so fast that one of the guns set up by the Copper Master’s house was cut neatly in half. Now it was the turn of the house itself. Tiles shattered in a line of destruction that snapped off as suddenly as it had begun. The guns were firing once more, pointing at the third orange explosion lit up in the distance.
After that the guns seemed to lose interest, they lowered themselves, resting. Alien women, exotic and fascinating – they were moving! Up and turning to face the opposite direction, too late…
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do was tumbling over and over, clattering metal, scraping red paint on stone. The ground was shaking and cracking; Wa-Ka-Mo-Do’s vision was filled with static, he felt his thoughts fold themselves around each other for just a moment, felt time jump forward a few seconds, as he moved from a scene of motion, dust and stones and tiles sliding and shaking through the air, to one of stillness, of the world recast after the explosion; the rubble and debris settled.
‘What happened?’ He was speaking out loud, to whom he didn’t know.
The human guns were dancing around him, bobbing up and down in their bizarre dance, spinning this way and that, lighting up the sky in orange balls, lighting up the distant hills, the far horizons, casting deep, fiery reflections in the lake below.
Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah was running towards him, flanked by two humans, coolant water shining on their faces.
‘What have they done, Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah?’ cried Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. ‘What have they done to the Emperor’s city?’
‘Half the west side of the city is gone,’ said Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah. ‘The Street of Becoming is buried beneath the houses that once lined it, the human weapon pierced through to the rock below!’
Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah had lost most of the panelling from his body. His grey electromuscle was smeared in carbon: he sparked as he moved.
‘I’ve failed, Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. ‘I’ve failed in my duty.’
‘No, Honoured Commander. The city still stands!’
From somewhere deep below them, half felt, half heard, came the sound of rock cracking, the shifting, sliding rumble as more of the city collapsed upon itself.
‘Wa-Ka-Mo-Do!’
He turned to see Gillian, the human commander. The green cloth panelling that she wore was torn, her headset crackled as she spoke.
‘They hit us with a mini-nuke, high radiation yield,’ she explained.
‘Do you understand those terms, Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah?’ asked Wa-Ka-Mo-Do.
‘No, Honoured Commander.’