Twisted Metal (37 page)

‘What did the North Kingdom have to trade with you in exchange?’ asked Kavan.

‘Labour. Slave robots, they would work for us for five years before returning to their northern homes. The slave robots are well regarded, for they are strong and work hard. They have minds that can think, but they have no sense of self. The secret of how they are made is known only to the Northern Kingdom.’

Kavan glanced at Wolfgang again.

‘Such robots are not unknown in the south,’ said the aide. ‘They turn up here and there occasionally, though they usually claim to be Spontaneous. It’s possible, I suppose, that they originate from up here.’

Kavan nodded. ‘Tell me more. What did you see there in the north? What did you learn?’

‘I must report that I saw little, for it was raining during most of the journey. We walked the Northern Road. It is wide and was in better repair back then.’

Kavan and Eleanor exchanged glances, but the woman didn’t notice, and continued to speak.

‘The land of the north is not so mountainous as here, but there are still valleys filled with mist through which one must walk, there are rivers and streams that fill the air with noise of running water, and the ever-present drizzle that makes the rocks so slippery also curtails the vision. I saw very little on the journey there.’

‘But what of the North Kingdom itself?’

‘Alas, I saw that not at all. For the Northern Kingdom lies in the last of the mountains that rise before the Moonshadow sea. It nestles, hidden from sight, within a ring of rock through which there is only one entrance: a maze of rock known as Lazar’s Labyrinth. The way through is known only to those who dwell within.’

‘More stories and superstition,’ said Kavan to Wolfgang. He turned back to the woman.

‘Tell me, how long were these lengths of timber that were to be carried through the maze? Twenty feet? Thirty?’

‘Longer,’ said the woman. ‘For the trees that we grew were tall and proud, and the integrity of the wood was much prized by all that dwelt thereabouts.’

‘So they carried through timber more than thirty feet in length? I don’t suppose, therefore, the maze would be
that
difficult to traverse.’

‘I cannot speak the answer to that,’ said the prisoner. ‘We were not allowed to enter. We found our slaves waiting for us at the entrance to the maze. Twenty of them, tall and hard-working. We got good use out of them for our five years’ worth of labour.’

‘What happened to them at the end of the five years?’ asked Eleanor.

‘One bright morning, beneath the light of Zuse and Néel, who shared the sky with the sun that day, the slaves formed themselves into a group and then marched back home again. There were only eighteen of them still working by then. Two of them had been damaged during their labour for us.’

‘Did the North Kingdom not object to this damage?’ asked Wolfgang.

‘No,’ replied the kingdom woman. ‘The remaining slaves carried the bodies of the broken robots back with them, for metal is the most precious thing in the North Kingdom. Now if we had kept the metal of those bodies, then their retribution would have been terrible to behold . . .’ she trailed off, smiling.

‘Do you fear the North Kingdom that much?’ asked Kavan.

‘We respect them, for the North Kingdom is said to have been established by the robots from the Top of the World.’

‘The robots from the Top of the World?’ Kavan felt like laughing. ‘We heap story upon story! And who, exactly, are they?’

‘A child’s story, Kavan,’ volunteered Wolfgang. ‘The Top of the World is the place where children believe that the first robots lived. Alpha and Gamma. Their children are said to have moved south to inhabit all the rest of the world.’

‘And do
you
believe in the robots at the Top of the World?’ asked Kavan of the prisoner.

‘Well, no,’ she said, her fingers waggling slowly again. ‘No. Not as such. But there are stories. They say the North Kingdom holds a fragment of the Book of Robots. And that, although they are poor in metal, they are rich in knowledge. They know something of the true nature of robots, and this is what gives them power. They say that they can increase the power of their lifeforce just by meditation. This is why they are so respected.’

Kavan was silent.

‘Worried, Kavan?’ asked Eleanor.

‘No,’ replied Kavan, ‘but I wonder about these stories and their power. The robots who dwell here have superstition twisted into their minds. I wonder at how much this superstition will increase as we travel further north. I thank Nyro that our own troops have minds that are twisted true.’

‘Some of them do, at least,’ said Eleanor. ‘We have so many volunteers at the moment, it’s difficult to predict how they think. And don’t forget that some of our troops are now conscripts from here, from the conquered kingdoms of the north.’

‘Hmm.’ Kavan gazed at the prisoner. ‘So tell me more about the North Kingdom. You say they are poor in metal. What does that mean?’

‘There is little metal in the circle of the mountains that form the North Kingdom,’ she said. ‘They say that the robots there do not make their bodies as we do, instead they must make their bones from wood. The wood rots eventually and must be replaced. They say that a robot from the North Kingdom can shatter its own body with its own electromuscle if it squeezes too hard.

‘It is said that they dwell in poor hovels, built on mud through which metal worms swim. They say that the robots shape a nugget of metal into a bell and press it into the mud at night in the hope of attracting a metal worm. If the worm takes the metal, they hear the noise of the bell and pull the worm from the ground.’

‘Metal worms?’ said Wolfgang. ‘That sounds a little like the porphyry worms of Turing City State.’

‘Tell me more,’ said Kavan.

‘I don’t know . . . oh . . . it is said that metal is so scarce that men cannot waste their wire on any woman who might twist an inferior mind. They say that the kingdom locks the men in high rocky towers, and the women must climb up to meet them. The women must surpass doors closed by ingenious locks and puzzles in order to prove their skill at shaping the twisted metal that a man produces, in order that they can then make a mind.’

‘That’s an old story,’ said Wolfgang. ‘I’ve heard something similar originating from Stark. It claims to explain how they rose to engineering dominance. Only there it was the women who were shut away . . .’

‘Okay, is there anything else?’ asked Kavan.

‘Tell him about the Wizard,’ said Eleanor.

‘The Wizard?’ said Kavan.

The prisoner threw a dark glance at Eleanor, but continued.

‘The Wizard is the ruler of the North Kingdom. He is a sterile man. You understand, a man who cannot make the wire that a woman may shape?’

‘I know what sterile means,’ said Kavan.

‘And yet it is said that the title of Wizard passes to the Wizard’s son! This is some of the magic of the North Kingdom!’

‘I thought you didn’t believe in that sort of thing,’ remarked Kavan.

‘I don’t,’ said the prisoner, ‘but—’

‘I think I have heard enough,’ said Kavan. ‘Rumour has settled on this land like rust on untreated iron. If left too long it could weaken even the strongest army. We cannot remain here, counting metal and reading reports, while these stories spread further.’

He turned to Eleanor. ‘Send out the signal. We move out within the hour. We are heading north!’

Kavan

Kavan marched north.

The temperature had dropped, the rain had turned to snow, the wind had increased in speed. Even the elements seemed to be attempting to slow the Artemisian expansion. Still, Kavan marched on, disregarding the omen of the weather for what it was: mere superstition. Kavan’s army was on the move, heading north with Artemisian efficiency.

Silver Scouts cut along the mountain tops, the blades at their feet and arms slicing the wind in two. They reconnoitred the land ahead, leaving signs indicating the best paths for the advance. Already they had been up to the borders of the North Kingdom, setting traps and devices in place for the coming attack.

Black Storm Troopers marched the trails blazed by the Scouts, smashing aside obstacles and crushing what little resistance to their advance that there was, mostly just a few poor robots who were too slow or weak to run.

Behind them, grey infantryrobots trudged through the rocky valleys, the wind driving snow inside their cold metal bodies. They were guarding the engineers who directed the laying of ballast and the construction of bridges, the blasting of cuttings and the supporting of walls.

And behind them all, trains rumbled along newly laid tracks, tilting and clanking as the freshly laid ballast slipped into position.

Kavan, Eleanor and Wolfgang marched amongst a troop of other infantryrobots. The mountains were slipping away behind them, now they made their way through the empty wind-blasted lands and snow-filled valleys that led to the stone circle of the North Kingdom.

‘Don’t you think we’re stretching ourselves a bit too thin, Kavan?’ asked Eleanor.

‘No. Spoole will send us more troops as long as we keep moving north. He can’t be seen to let us fail.’ He wiped snow from his face and peered into the distance. ‘Someone is coming,’ he observed.

A Scout slipped towards them through the wind. Her blades were retracted, her eyes pulled in tight.

‘Small group approaching from the mountains,’ she reported.

‘They’ll be wanting to parley,’ suggested Wolfgang.

Eleanor raised her rifle by way of answer. ‘Artemis does not parley,’ she said.

‘No,’ said Kavan. ‘I want to speak. We know so little about them. I want to know what they think is important. Call a halt. Tell the troops to stand at ease.’

The message went out and the army emptied itself into the available cracks of the land as troops sought shelter in the lee of rocks to adjust electromuscle and clear away snow. But Kavan and Eleanor remained standing, waiting, the blizzard whipping around their bodies.

Two Scouts came forward, leading a third robot between them.

Kavan had never seen its like before. The newcomer was so small and thin. It wore no plating, leaving its bare electromuscle exposed to the wind. Kavan found himself trying to peer beyond the muscle, to see if it were true, that the robots of the North Kingdom really wore wooden bones.

The strange robot raised a hand. ‘The Wizard of the North Kingdom sends his greetings, Kavan, by way of his servant, Banjo Macrodocious.’

Wolfgang spoke at Kavan’s side.

‘A slave name. This robot will have no sense of self.’

‘I suppose that is why it has been sent to speak to us,’ he mused. He looked down at the slave robot, at its small body and ridiculously oversized head. He didn’t bother to raise his own hand in reply.

‘You describe yourself as the Wizard’s
servant?
’ he said. ‘In Artemis there are no servants, for we all merely follow Nyro’s philosophy. Well, Banjo Macrodocious, take this message to the Wizard, that Artemis welcomes all those robots that wish to follow Nyro’s philosophy.’

‘I have no orders to take messages to the Wizard,’ replied Banjo Macrodocious. ‘Rather, I am here to bring this message: that the North Kingdom is mentioned in the Book of Robots, and there it is written that no one shall enter it uninvited. Those who seek to do so are working contrary to the true purpose, and therefore they will fail.’

‘I don’t believe in the Book of Robots,’ said Kavan. ‘I say that we have no creator, we have no purpose, save that which we choose ourselves.’

Banjo Macrodocious ignored this – as he would have been told to do, realized Kavan.

‘It is written in the Book of Robots that those who cross the line of the mountains will have their true nature revealed to them in three ways,’ said Banjo Macrodocious. ‘First their artefacts will fail, then their bodies will fail, and finally their minds will fail. For all that is twisted in metal was originally written in the Book of Robots, along with the works that they should perform.’

‘Kill him,’ said Kavan, and the blade of one of the Storm Troopers swept out of the blizzard, slicing the head of Banjo Macrodocious neatly in two. Kavan peered closely at the wire that lay inside, and saw that it was just like the blue wire of any other robot. Well, almost the same; it had an odd greenish tinge to it, as if the metal used were not quite pure. Probably due to the scarcity of metal up here, he realized. Thoughtfully, he squatted and pulled aside the electromuscle of the dead robot’s arm. There was metal beneath, not wood.