‘Susan, you misunderstand! I don’t care!’
The pale-green robot sat down on a seat by the metal desk that overlooked the yard and spread the foil out before him.
‘I keep trying to explain, I don’t run this city. I don’t make decisions about which lands we should conquer, or about where we build our forges, see? My mind wasn’t twisted to do that. What I do is make sure that the goods on the railways are picked up, and that they are deposited at their destination. If anything passes beneath this gantry, then it is my business to know about it. Do you understand that?’
‘Yes, I understand.’
‘Good. Then understand this, Susan. I don’t care who you are, I don’t care if you work for Kavan or Sandale or Spoole. I don’t even care if you’re in this for yourself. In a few weeks’ time such things will probably all be irrelevant anyway!’
‘Yes, so-’
‘So, ask me anything you like, and I will be delighted to answer!’
At that Gresley sat back in his seat and smiled.
‘This state has rust in the mind,’ said Susan.
‘It may well do,’ said Gresley, ‘but as long as the railways run properly, I am a happy robot.’
Susan took the piece of foil from the desk.
‘My friend was taken into the human compound on this service,’ she said. ‘I want to follow her in there.’
‘There we are!’ said Gresley. ‘Why didn’t you say that at the start?’
He leaped to his feet and walked to the other side of the room, where he examined a piece of foil pinned to the wall.
‘Now,’ he said, examining it carefully. ‘As I said, there are no direct services to the human compound planned. However, there are a number of troop trains being prepared for a direct attack on the compound.’
‘They’re going to attack the humans?’ said Susan, in astonishment.
‘I didn’t say that,’ said Gresley, ‘but you can’t just call up a train from thin air. These things have to be prepared. Someone is obviously planning ahead.’
‘Who?’
‘I don’t know. It could be Spoole, it could be the Generals. It could even be Kavan. Like I said, he may be in the city already.’
He pulled a sheet of foil from a book and scribbled something on it with a stylus.
‘Here you are,’ he said. ‘Line 4 point 16 point 3. The lines are numbered from the right. That’s line four down there, the one with the ore hoppers passing by at the moment.’
Susan looked down at the yellow stone-filled hoppers that rumbled by beneath them.
‘Just follow it up and count the branches. You should be able to join the train, dressed like that. I’m sure another infantryrobot would always be welcome.’
‘What do you mean dressed like that? I am an infantryrobot.’
‘Of course you are,’ said Gresley, and he turned back to his desk. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me…’
At that he picked up a pile of foil sheets and began to read his way through them.
Susan watched him for a moment, and then turned and headed out to find her train.
Ka was a city caught between worlds, a city built half on sea and half on land, a city caught between the harsh realities of whaling and the culture and civilization of the Empire.
It was a shifting, animate city. Whales were dragged from the sea, their bodies taken apart and separated into piles of metal. That metal was taken to plate the bodies of robots, robots who would then strip the metal from themselves and use it to construct new buildings, buildings that would then be dismantled and rebuilt elsewhere as more robots flowed into the city, or taken to line the new roads that were built into the sea. Metal would be formed into cranes and used to construct the little ships that carried metal up and down the coast, then the ships themselves would be dismantled and the metal used to construct new buildings.
Ka had moved up and down the coast over time; it waxed and waned like the tide. It was anchored only by the Whale Road, running as it did from the long-unused jade and stone buildings of the Emperor’s Sea Palace, all the way back through the provinces and cities of Yukawa to the Silent City itself.
Not that many of the Emperor’s robots travelled to this harsh town, grey and utilitarian as it was, lashed by the sea rain and choked with the smoke of forges.
This place was left to the strong and uncultured robots that worked there. Mostly male minds, full of lifeforce that powered big, heavy bodies, suitable for pulling whales down to the sea bed. Minds that thought nothing about ripping open the panelling of the huge creatures, and reaching through to disable the electro-muscle beyond.
Robots who had fought back.
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do saw the signs almost immediately he entered the city.
These robots had fought against the humans.
With guns and harpoons, with swords and spears and anything else that came to hand. Rocks and stones and metal bars lay discarded all around. The ground was still soaked with the red blood the humans carried within them. He saw the bloated remains of their bodies, long stripped of any useful materials, the yellow-white bones poking through the bare flesh.
The robots of Ka had swatted the flying craft with cranes. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do wandered through the docks, the grey sea splashing beside him, and he saw one of the human craft lying broken on the ground. Close up, it seemed so fragile: metal skin as thin as gold leaf, the transparent plastic cockpit bubble bulging and torn by the metal girder that had pierced its length. Two humans lay dead behind it, the fluid that had once filled their bodies dried and rusted around them. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do held out a hand near the red patch. There was iron there, just a trace. So these creatures had a little in common with robots. He inspected the face of the dead human. Had it felt pain or fear as it had died? He couldn’t tell.
But the dead humans were only part of the story.
There were dead robots, too. Dead robots lying everywhere in the streets. The humans had dropped one of their electric bombs here, too, though it hadn’t been anywhere so near as effective as in Sangrel. Many more robots still lived. Going about their work, clearing the streets, sorting the body parts into piles for re-use.
When they saw Wa-Ka-Mo-Do pass by they obviously recognized the handiwork of the Vestal Virgins, but this didn’t seem to bother them so much. If anything, his slow fight against the agony within his leaden shell seemed to grant Wa-Ka-Mo-Do a certain respect.
A man came running up to him.
‘You have one of these?’ he asked, handing Wa-Ka-Mo-Do a flexible metal mesh. ‘No? I thought not! Put it around your head and shoulders if the humans return. If they drop the electric bomb again, I mean.’
‘Thank you.’
The man hesitated. He gazed at the dark metal of Wa-Ka-Mo-Do’s body.
‘That is, if you can reach up to your head. Will your hands move that far?’
‘I can manage.’
The man’s eyes glowed.
‘Spread the word, brother. I say, let the animals return. We’ll be ready for them next time.’
With that the robot turned and dashed off.