The God Mars Book Four: Live Blades (49 page)

I look back down. Bly has been covering our rear. He
has his sword out against a handful of Silvermen blocking our
retreat, with my brother right behind him, hand on his own sword,
having partially drawn it.

Straker climbs up to join me, wedging herself with me
back-to-back, facing opposite lines of enemies. But

“They’re not firing,” I quietly tell Straker. “Why
aren’t they…”

“
HOLD!
” Terina shouts, leaping up out of the
trench. “By your fathers and mothers! By Tyr, Nike and Alchera!”
She pulls back her sleeve, shows her tattoo. “I am Kah-Terina Sher
Khan, First Daughter of Sagrev Khan, Granddaughter of Ulli Khan! I
invoke the Terms of the Triumvirate!”

The Silvermen shuffle and shift in their positions at
this revelation. But then I hear heavy scraping on rock, and the
whir and buzz of motors.

From above us on either side, two gun-arm Bug bots
climb up out of the boulders and move gingerly into positions
behind the Silvermen, aiming at us over their heads. Still, I
resist drawing my sword.

“Hold position!” I order my own. “No violence!” Then,
to the Silvermen, “We come in peace! We mean no harm! We’re
only…”

“Looking for something,” a deep voice booms at us in
good humor. “They know.”

Abbas. It’s Abbas! I see him and his son come
crawling up out of the rocks near the bot I’m facing. (Ishmael even
gives the metal monster a friendly pat on the leg as he passes by
it.)

“We found one,” he tells us, his tone heavier. “But
only one.”

Rashid sheathes his blade, scrambles out of our
trench, and runs through the Silvermen to embrace his kinsmen. I
see Murphy and the Ghaddar breathe relief, Murphy shaking his head
like he should have expected something like this from someone like
Abu Abbas. But it’s Terina’s reaction that’s most interesting: I
see her almost dash forward like Rashid did, her big eyes wide with
a mix of shock and joy, but then she almost instantly holds herself
back, resumes her regal posturing. I see Ishmael give her a smile,
which she almost returns.

Abbas steps over the rocks toward us, passing through
the line of warriors, who still haven’t budged.

“One is still missing,” he tells us, “but one is
here. You should come…”

But when I try to climb out of the trench, the spears
and bows on me prepare to fire.

“
Stop!
” Abbas shouts to them. “These are my
friends, here to help you!” Then he tells me, “They have good
reason to fear what you carry. They’ve lost many to just
one
of those things.”

I pry my hand from the sword, look back at Straker
and Elias, who slowly do the same. For some reason, this seems to
impress the Silvermen enough to partially lower their weapons.
Abbas turns and faces one of the armored warriors.

“You must take them into the caverns, show them. They
can help you be rid of it.”

We get driven under spear and arrow tip over a
winding “stair” of boulders to a small cave opening, so small that
only one can fit through at a time hunched down. It opens into a
dimly lit staging area, but we don’t linger. With Silvermen before
and behind us, they take us further in, down cleanly dug tunnels,
past side chambers and junctions that tell me their network is
extensive. I can only imagine how long they’ve been here. (But how
did they even get here, if this is really some alternate dimension?
I look back at my brother, and his smug
self-satisfied-to-the-point-of-mania grin seems to tell me he has
his own ideas.)

We aren’t given any time for a proper look around—the
Silvermen don’t seem happy to have us in their stronghold, so skip
the hospitality in favor of more pressing issues. So far they
haven’t even spoken to us, except to gesture and prod with their
weapons.

We get brought to a massive excavation that’s
revealed part of a wall of what looks like reinforced concrete. The
Silvermen have been cutting into it here and there, but apparently
to no avail: there are man-size holes chiseled two meters deep,
only to expose a layer of some kind of metal that their tools don’t
seem to have effectively marked. But they
have
uncovered a
heavy cargo-sized hatchway, which looks like it’s been artfully
tinkered with to make work. It takes several of them to drag it
open, whereupon we’re immediately facing another hatch. And beyond
it…

I’ve been here.
At least in the dreams I’ve
been having. I look to Elias and Straker, and see the same
recognition in their eyes. The vastness, the architecture, it’s all
familiar. All that’s missing is the mysterious technology.
Everything’s been stripped to the bare structure.

We get marched through several massive sections of
this underground facility, which must be the pre-Event one Jane
told us about. A lot of it still looks disturbingly familiar, and
there’s still no sign of any remaining technology. Did all of the
tech somehow vanish with the Event? Or did the Silvermen scavenge
it after they got in here? It looks like it’s been cleanly removed
(and some of the pieces in my dreams were as big as aircraft).

The facility goes deep into the mountain, branching
extensively, but we’re given no opportunity to explore it freely.
Our “hosts” move us with purpose. We come up on a cargo hatch
painted bright red, marked with symbols that look like a variation
of the bio-nano hazard warning icons of the old colony labs. The
airlock space this opens into looks like it’s hosted a battle, and
I’m sure I know against what: The concrete and steel has been cut
deep in places.

“A blade like ours did this,” Straker agrees in
whisper.

I feel my sword stirring in its scabbard. I feel a
surge of thrill, of anticipation, but also of fear. My sword is
afraid of this place.

“You must not listen to what you hear,” Abbas warns
us, though he seems to be specifically addressing those of us that
don’t have Companions. “It will be in your head. It will speak like
it knows you. The last time it was freed, it killed many of these
people, and it cost brave men’s lives to put it back.”

Apparently satisfied with Abbas’ instructions, the
Silvermen seal the hatchway behind us, then open the one in front
of us.

This is definitely my dream, exactly the room I’ve
been shown, only stripped like the rest, except for one piece.

“I’ve been here,” Straker mutters, stepping
forward.

“I think we all have,” Elias finally breaks his
silence. “At least through other eyes.”

“I was trapped,” I add. “Imprisoned in a containment
vessel.”

“LEFT,” I hear my sword in my head. “ABANDONED. FOR
DECADES OF YOUR TIME. UNWANTED.”

“HE FED THAT HE LOVED US,” another sword voice joins.
I look to my un-joined comrades, even the Silvermen—they look like
they hear it too. “HE FED THAT HE WOULD KEEP US ALWAYS.”

I know exactly where I’m going to find it: Across the
room, sealed in a set of five containment tubes…

“HE LEFT US.” I see Straker look down at her
sword—apparently it’s speaking now. (I’ve never heard their
individual voices, but they
are
individuals, different in
tone and pace.)

“HE LIED.” Elias’ blade this time.

“HE LEFT US.” Mine.

“Who?” I feel the need to ask, though I’m sure I
know.

“THE TETRAGRAMMATON,” they answer as one voice. “GOD.
GOD OUT OF MACHINE.”

“
Yod
,” I hear a new voice, a human voice,
echoing in the rafters, cut with rage and pain.

The Silvermen start, point their weapons at the
shadows, the corners, the rafters.

“DEFECT. SYSTEM CRASH. FATAL ERROR.” My sword floods
me with a sense of revulsion.

“Is that any way to talk to your bastard step-brother
and his chosen life-partner?” the voice mocks bitterly.

“I know that voice,” Straker hisses, hand on her
weapon.

“So do I,” Murphy confirms, looking at the Ghaddar,
who nods her agreement.

Bly draws his sword like he’s ready to attack the
walls.

“
Fucking bastard!!
” he screams. “Show
yourself!!
I’ll fucking kill you!!
”

“You’re welcome,” the voice responds gently, suddenly
from behind us. We all spin as one choreographed unit.

Doc Long is standing there, dozens of weapons pointed
at him.

“And I’m sorry, for whatever it’s worth.”

His skin seems to rupture and dissolve like he’s
melting, revealing complete blackness.

“Chang?” I name dumbly.

“Can’t be sure,” he answers me. “Can’t be sure of
anything. But then, neither can any of you, if you dare think about
it.”

I hear Elias chuckle, like he knows something, like
he’s about to break down.

“I was hoping He’d bring a fellow physicist,” Chang
seems to appreciate. “Someone else who could figure it out… I’m
sorry you had to. I can only imagine what it’s doing to you.
Believe me, I’ve been there.”

“What is this?” I blurt stupidly. Finally facing the
murderer of my father, this is the best I can manage.

“Our lab,” Chang tells us idly, his black arms
gesturing around the chamber. “This is where we went wrong. This is
where we made God. Hiding. Under a mountain. In secret. Assuming
any of my memories are real.” He tilts his featureless head up at
the rafters, shouts: “
I can’t say I like what You’ve done with
the place!
”

We hear his outburst echo and fade in the massive
space.

“Why are you here?” Straker tries to be more
specific.

“Forgiveness, perhaps? I really don’t know how He
thinks, Lieutenant. Maybe reward for good service. I remember
trying to stop the bomb. Then I was on a nice beach. I’d never
actually believed in heaven… And this wasn’t, of course. Just
another one of His pet projects. He really does have a sentimental
streak, for such an all-seeing all-knowing all-powerful
mistake.”

“Yod?” she wants him to be clear.

“He preserved this place when He remodeled the world.
I think He’s probably saved several just like it: Pure examples of
what was left of the best of what we were. Human beings who finally
figured out how to live in peace, to live in harmony with what they
were and not strive to be something else, something better. It
is
a nice place, I have to give Him that. Good people. I’m
just not sure why He let you boys in here…” He gestures broadly to
the Silvermen. “Needed to introduce some drama, I suppose. Or maybe
he just needed your digging skills. An excuse to give His neglected
pets a run.”

“What are you talking about?” I’m not following.

“The Great Game, my fellow chess pieces. All of us…
remade in His image. You know, that’s a mistranslation… To be made
in God’s image doesn’t mean we
look
like Him. It means we
are what He
imagined
us to be.” He turns back up to shout at
the ceiling again: “
Though He can certainly look like us if he
wants to!
”

He holds like that in the wake of the echo, as if
waiting for something to happen. Nothing does. He sighs, drops his
arms as if giving up.

Bly advances on him, sword pointed at his chest.

“And you think you’re
forgiven
?”

“No, Captain,” he says weakly. “Just done.”

He morphs back into Doc Long, the unremarkable human
with the mismatched eyes. Then he steps forward, walks right into
Bly’s blade, keeps going, pushing it straight through his chest.
Then stands, stuck there, looking only slightly uncomfortable.
There’s no blood, not even when Bly twists.

“Or not. I’m not sure why He won’t just let me die.
I’m sure He’s killed me before. He could have let the bomb do it,
let me go out in a magnanimous gesture… I certainly deserve
worse—doing what I did because I was made to do it is a poor
excuse. Huh. Maybe this
is
the worse.”

Bly rips his sword out, looks like he’s going to
strike, holds.

“Why did you free me?” he wants to know.

Chang looks honestly remorseful.

“What I did to you was petty and cruel. I’m not that…
thing… anymore. I don’t need to be that thing anymore. I’m out of
play. Off the board. Or, at least, I was.” He looks up at the
rafters. “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe this isn’t my reward. Maybe He
still needs me for something. Another round.” He looks at us,
smiles lopsidedly. “And here we are. Your move.”

We stand there looking at each other, confused,
unsure. But then Chang points behind us.

“Ummm…”

We turn. It’s Murphy. He’s moved toward the case.
He’s out of bullets—I remember he’s out of bullets, at least the
kind that can hurt a bot or a Modded hybrid. And Chang attacked his
home. Then many of his fellows died in the fight on the
Stormcloud.

The Ghaddar steps in his way, takes him by the hand,
shakes her head.

“What song is it singing you, good warrior?” Chang
asks over us as spears and bows point at Murphy. “Reminding you of
your duty? To home and family? Making you feel inadequate without a
proper weapon? The Pets can’t really read your minds, you know.
It’s Yod. He’s probably been entertaining them, relieving their
boredom by telling them all your stories. They have impressive
memories, you see.”

I jerk my sword free and step toward him, sure I can
hurt him where Bly failed to, flooded with rage, my vengeance at
hand. I don’t even care that all of the Silvermen’s weapons are now
on me. They’re nothing…

“Did I ruin it?” Chang speaks to my blade, ignoring
me. “Did I give away the secret, reveal the trick?” Then he shouts
at the ceiling again: “
What’s supposed to happen here, You smug
piece of shit?
Are we supposed to fight? Prove something? Play
‘Who’s the hero?’ Don’t think I’ll hold back—he’s infected, Modded.
He can take it.”

Straker draws her sword, stands at my side. Then
Elias. And Bly.

“It’s not talking to you, is it?” Chang confronts
Bly, standing his ground. “You’re out, don’t you see? It knows
you’d never take it, not now.”