Mech 3: The Empress (30 page)

Twenty

Sixty-Two had managed to reach the border regions of Nightside, but his relief was short-lived. He ordered his group to halt and reorganize, sending out scouts in every direction. The scouts that backtracked in the direction they had recently come from returned with highly disturbing news.

“Lizett, they follow us. We did not slip through Twilight unseen.”

The skald popped up from the skin sack where he resided still on Lizett’s broad back. “We are pursued?”

“Yes,” Sixty-Two said.

“That’s awful,” Lizett said. “Must we kill them all now?”

Sixty-Two thought about it. “There do not seem to be many of them. They are following us at a distance. I would think that means they are waiting for a future moment to attack. We are either running into their greater force, or they are waiting for more troops to catch up. In either case, our relative strength is at an excellent ratio now.”

“We should forget about those behind us and press ahead,” the skald urged.

Sixty-Two flicked his orbs to the odd man. Not for the first time, he wondered why he’d tolerated his presence for so long. Perhaps it was because he was interesting. After working with half-bright mechs for so long, a real mysterious human was stimulating.

“Why do you care where we go, Ornth?” Sixty-Two asked the man in the sack.

“There is a lost place, not far from here.”

“Farther out—you mean deeper into Nightside?”

“Yes.”

“And you want us to take you there? You can’t survive the central region of Nightside, you know. Your lungs will freeze when you take in a breath.”

“We don’t have to go that far.”

“And what do you expect to find?”

“That which has been forgotten.”

Sixty-Two shook his head in bemusement. As he watched, Lizett absently fed the man bits of edible fungus she’d brought along from Twilight for the purpose of his sustenance. The human was wrapped in cloth now, covering most of his face except for those odd, piercing eyes. Lizett had picked up scraps and oddments for her pet on her own initiative. He’d even seen her methodically clean filth from the sack with her grippers.

“We’re going to attack,” he said at last, coming to a decision. “I’ll relay the command to my captains. We’ll turn on these men who follow us, and ambush them. It is unfortunate, but I really don’t see that we have any other choice.”

Lizett didn’t argue with his decision. The man riding on her back likewise said nothing. He only nibbled bits of fungus and stared at Sixty-Two with strange, burning eyes.

#

Nina was aroused by a heavy hand on her shoulder. She lurched awake and half-drew her power-sword before she recognized who it was.

“Hans? What’s wrong?” she demanded in a whisper.

“The mechs, milady,” he said quietly. “We’ve spotted one of their scouts.”

She climbed to her feet and pulled her on clothes. Hans tried not to look at her bare form, but she didn’t care if he did. A commander in the field couldn’t afford to worry about such things.

“How close?”

“Close enough to count our numbers.”

“Who saw the enemy?”

“I did, milady.”

She looked at him. “Why didn’t you fire? Couldn’t you have brought it down?”

“Probably not. But I didn’t want to try in any case. The mechs have built-in radio. There is virtually zero chance to destroy one before it reports to base.”

Nina nodded. “Of course. You did the right thing. Now, they don’t know we saw them. This does little to change things, however. They will come back in strength soon.”

Old Hans hesitated. “You think they will attack?”

“Yes. Immediately.”

“Why are you so certain? After all these days of running, I’d thought perhaps—”

Nina shook her head. “I’ve come to know this mech who apes a man and leads the rebellion. He thinks in a manner similar to us. And he
does
think, never doubt it. He has a cunning mind, fully-functional inside a mech’s body. He’ll attack because we are weak now, and we are trailing him, threatening him.”

“I’ll sound the alarm, Baroness. Every man will stand at arms.”

Hans lifted a signal whistle to his mouth. Nina’s quick hand stopped him.

“You will do no such thing,” she said. “We are going to run, not fight.”

The old knight nodded, relieved. He did not question her bravery. Fighting a thousand mechs with a hundred men was not brave—it was suicide.

They broke camp as quickly as possible, leaving behind much of their equipment in the process. There was no time to pack and store it. They simply mounted up with whatever they could carry, and less than ten minutes later the camp was deserted.

Fleeing southward on their buzzing mounts, they felt the freezing winds buffeting their insulated suits and their panting breath steamed their goggles.

Nina felt like a coward, but she told herself sternly it was better to win a fight than it was to stand and die hopelessly. Still, fleeing in the face of the mech that she’d so wanted to destroy for months was hard on her. She hoped never to have to do so again.

#

Less than half an hour later, Sixty-Two stood in the midst of the human encampment. He walked from tent to tent, but found nothing of great interest. He did learn the name of his pursuer: Baroness Nina Droad.

This did nothing to comfort him. He’d monitored her rise through the nobility of late via the net. The Ruling Council of Lords seemed to favor her. On Ignis Glace, such favor was worth much. They’d given her an army and a purpose: to hunt down and exterminate Sixty-Two and his rebel gang of treacherous mechs. At least, that was how the online articles described the situation.

Lizett approached him as he stood in her command tent, examining what few documents and bits of equipment they’d left behind.

“This place is great!” she said.

He swung his orbs to her in surprise. “What is so enviable about it?”

Lizett showed him the man she’d kept riding upon her back for so long. He was no longer imprisoned in a skin sack. Now, he stood beside her in a dark suit of insulated material. Frosted goggles clung to his face, and he began picking up articles in the tent, examining each as if it were an alien artifact.

“See? I’ve found spare clothes and foodstuffs. Ornth surely won’t die now. Doesn’t he look splendid in a man’s suit?”

“He
is
a man.”

Lizett pouted. “He doesn’t think so. I don’t think so, either.”

“Listen, Lizett,” Sixty-Two began hesitantly. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Ornth. I think it may be best we leave him here. The humans will return, and as he is a civilian, they will no doubt care for him.”

Lizett stopped fussing over Ornth and turned her full attention to Sixty-Two. “What? You can’t do that! He’s
mine
. They’ll know we left him, and they’ll kill him for sure.”

Sixty-Two shook his head. “I doubt that. He seems very adept at survival.”

“They will return soon,” Ornth said, speaking up for the first time.

“What do you know of the matter?”

“They will come, in great numbers. They will come to destroy your forces. Insanity, really. In the very face of an enemy greater than any of you—your absurd species still insists on mutual destruction.”

“How do you know this?” Sixty-Two demanded.

For an answer, Ornth opened a computer scroll and stretched it out. “The signal has been disconnected, of course. But by working with the cached files, I was able to display the last thing the enemy commander was looking at.”

The screen displayed a disposition of forces. Three major groups were prominent. One was the small group Baroness Droad personally commanded. A much larger unit sat at Droad House. A third large contingent, however, was very close to their position and appeared to be moving to join up with the Baroness.

“You see?” Ornth asked. “They’ve pulled back in order to group with a larger force.”

Sixty-Two studied the evidence with growing apprehension. “What do you suggest we do then?”

“March deeper into Nightside.”

“What lies there for us? Will they not pursue?”

“I’m not sure. What I know is unknown. What I—”

“Don’t even try to tell me some nonsense about unknowable wonders,” Sixty-Two interrupted angrily. “Just tell me why I should listen to you and march into the cold and dark.”

“There should be a place—a sanctuary. You can hide there.”

“A sanctuary? Out in Nightside? There are no major structures that I know of.”

“It is not a structure, exactly. There is an entrance to an underground region.”

“Ah,” Sixty-Two said. “Now, we are getting somewhere. What is in this cave you describe? And how do you know about it?”

“I’m not sure what will be there, as I’ve said. Records are vague on those issues.”

“Records? What kind of records do you have? Files, images?”

“Neither,” Ornth said, smiling with half his face. “Nothing like that. My people keep our records entirely within our minds. When we commune with others of our own species, we do it very thoroughly, in effect downloading our experiences to one another over an intense period. It was from another of my kind I learned of this sanctuary. But the records—the memories, as you would call them—are hazy. They have been relayed several times over many centuries.”

Sixty-Two snorted loudly. “You expect me to march to a place that you have only a ghostly memory of? The memory from another of your supposed kind that is centuries old?”

Ornth made a sweeping gesture, indicating the computer scroll and all that was depicted upon it. “You have clear choices.”

Sixty-Two fell silent. He did not like any of the choices he could identify. He could fight the human forces, but even if he won his army would surely be decimated. He could flee into the dark in a random direction, hoping to elude them. Or he could follow the mad mind of this person, who claimed to be something more alien than any mech.

By the time he’d made his choice, Ornth was already riding comfortably again in Lizett’s sack. Sixty-Two found this mildly annoying. How had they both felt so sure which option he would choose?

Marching hard, he led his mechs into the silent, frozen darkness that was Nightside. Every pounding step of their metal feet crushed ancient crystalline structures, snowflakes that had fallen and lain undisturbed for centuries.

#

Aldo rode uncomfortably at the head of Duchess Embrak’s army. The troops of House Embrak wore livery of deep purple over riding suits of black leather. The Duchess did not accept boisterous recruits. Tall and saturnine, they were grim professionals. Every laser pistol was polished until it shone, and every one of their mounts glided over the ground at precisely the same altitude.

He was not used to these flying one-man contraptions which the Twilighters were so proud of. He’d ridden a few living horses on Neu Schweitz, but had no experience with these small flying machines. He found they bent his legs into a painful shape and left his hips aching after hours in the saddle. He had to admit however, for the purpose of crossing rugged terrain they were very effective. They could climb a mountain, glide over a river or weave their way through a forest with equal efficiency, and they never seemed to break down or run out of power.

Aldo suspected the men he led were amused by his lack of skill aboard one of their mounts, which they’d been trained to ride since childhood. Surely, he looked like an oaf to them. Annoyed by these thoughts, he tried to put them out of his mind. He was in command, whether he or anyone else believed he deserved the honor. He had to make the best of it.

The second day after the army turned their backs to the sun and left the Queen’s Highway, they ran into Baroness Droad’s smaller force which fled toward them out of Nightside. Aldo knew from the mapping scrolls they would meet them soon, the Nexus people had helpfully updated his computers to show Nina’s location. Unfortunately, the maps did not show if the mechs were in close pursuit or not.

The two groups met at the border of Nightside, along the banks of a river that permanently flowed with slush. Just cold enough to freeze when still, the water was kept primarily in a liquid state by the motion of the river. Chunks of ice floated everywhere in its flood and the shores were frosted with a dirty glaze.

Nina’s forces pulled up on the far shore and halted. Aldo waved to them. He glanced to either side, and saw that none of his men joined him in waving. They did not call out or in any way greet their allies. Aldo frowned at them. He didn’t really like Twilighters all that much, and these House Embrak knights were positively stuffy.

On the far shore, only a single figure lifted a gauntlet to return his salute. Aldo squinted and thought to make out the bulky form of Old Hans, the knight that forever shadowed the Baroness. Aldo smiled at him. At least there was one sane man in the bunch.

A single rider detached from the Droad force and slid out over the rushing, freezing river. Aldo figured it had to be Nina herself. The old knight Hans followed her. Aldo glanced from side to side at his captains.

“I take it I’m expected to ride out to meet her? Is this some kind of custom?”

One of the captains, a tall gent with a jaw like a mech, nodded briefly.

Aldo sighed and urged his mount forward. He didn’t like taking it out over water. It tended to bob and shiver when over a moving surface, as the repellers weren’t given an even platform to push against. The sensation against one’s buttocks was one of slipping and bouncing, and he found it disconcerting. Still, he pressed forward and noticed the Captain he’d spoken to had followed him. He would greet Nina as decorum required and merge her army into his. He felt there was little time to waste. He wanted this entire force to return to their station in Twilight, ready for the aliens who were sure to arrive shortly.

“Baroness Droad!” he shouted when they neared one another in the deep blue half-light. “I’m glad you’ve survived your campaign.”