Withered + Sere (Immemorial Year Book 1) (34 page)

“SIRS,” Cavalo said.

The robot didn’t respond.

“
SIRS
.”

Nothing.

“How rude!” the man said. “Robot, you’re being asked a question.”

“Father, may I?” SIRS asked. His voice had never sounded more robotic.

“You may,” the man said.

“Yes, Cavalo. How may I help you?”

“End this.”

The stranger laughed.

“End what, Cavalo?” SIRS asked.

“Him. This. Now. Put him in the cell.”

There was a click deep inside the robot. A grinding of gears. A beep. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Cavalo.”

“Why?”

“Because my central processor has been overridden. My directive has changed.”

“To what?”

“Complacency.”

“What did you do?” Cavalo asked the stranger.

“Leveled the playing field,” he said. “Don’t you worry. He’ll return to normal after you and I have had a chance to talk. Put the gun down, Cavalo.”

“No.”

The smile faded slightly. “I can be a very reasonable man. The only thing I ask in return is that you do what I say, when I say it. That is all.”

“Go fuck yourself.” He aimed the gun again.

The smile returned in full force. “Robot,” the man said. “Please help our friend here give up his rifle. Be quick about it.”

“Yes, Father.”

It was over before Cavalo was aware it had happened. He’d never seen SIRS move as fast as he did then. One moment the robot was standing next to the stranger, his hand still outstretched, the screen floating above it. The next, the rifle was jerked from Cavalo’s hand, his arm wrenched behind him, wrist gripped in metal hands. The rifle went across the room with a clatter.

“My, my, my,” the man said. “That certainly went better than I thought. He’s quick, for a relic of times past.”

“SIRS,” Cavalo said as he struggled. It was no use; the grip was so tight Cavalo thought his arm would rip from the socket before he’d break free.

“Yes, Cavalo.”

“Let me go. You know me.”

“Father, may I?”

“You may not,” the man said. “Hold him until I say so. In fact, you are not to speak again until I give you reason. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Repeat it.”

“I am not to speak until given reason.”

The stranger frowned. “Given reason by whom?”

There was hesitation, and Cavalo hear a subtle beep. “You, Father.”

“Thank you.” He looked at Cavalo. “Now, it’s going to be very simple. You have something of mine. You return it, I leave, and you never see me again. You don’t, I burn this place and Cottonwood to the ground.”

“I told your men before,” Cavalo said. “That I won’t be threatened. What makes you think I’ll listen to you?”

The man’s eyes widened. “My men?”

“Wilkinson. Thomas. The ones you sent here. From the UFSA.”

He rocked his head back and laughed. “They were
here
? Already? Oh, this is positively
magnificent
. Where are they now? Did you kill them?”

“Yes,” Cavalo snarled at him. “Every single one of them.”

“Oh, I surely underestimated
you
,” the man said, stepping toward Cavalo. He stopped well out of arm’s reach. “Tell me, what did they say? Before you killed them?”

Careful
, the bees said.
Careful.

“Nothing. They came to my home. They tried to take what was mine. I killed them. And that was it.”

“Truly?”

“Yes.”

“Robot.”

“Yes, Father?”

“It appears our friend here is lying to me.” The man smiled again. “Break his right index finger.”

The pain was swift and immediate as the robot used his other hand to snap Cavalo’s finger. Glassy pain rolled over Cavalo as he grunted, biting his lip to keep from crying out. Sweat beaded on his brow, greasy and hot. He hadn’t been inside more than ten minutes. He hoped that it was enough time that Bad Dog convinced Lucas to leave. In the haze, he forgot that Lucas couldn’t understand the dog like he could. Or like he thought he could. It mattered not.

“Now,” the man said, “we can try this again. The men you killed. What were they looking for?”

“Patrick,” Cavalo said. “They were looking for Patrick.” The name caused a reaction out of most people so far; he hoped in throwing it out, it would happen again.

The man stared at him hard. “Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“Did they say why?”

“No.”

“But you killed them.”

“Yes.”

“All of them.”

“Yes.”

“Because they tried to take what was yours.”

“Yes.”

The bees laughed.

“It’s fascinating, really.”

“What?”

“That they’ve already decided to go west, young man!” the stranger exclaimed, clapping his hands. “That they’ve got even the slightest inclination to spread
this
far out, knowing the stories. Those horrible stories of monsters and evil that have infected the west and made it the Deadlands. They must be getting desperate. I really thought there’d be more time. Robot.”

“Yes, Father?”

“Are you in touch with St. Louis?”

“No.”

The man cocked his head quizzically. “How is that possible?”

“Insanity, Father.”

“Insanity?”

“I am losing my mind.”

“You don’t have a mind to lose,” the stranger said. “At least not in the traditional sense.”

“I have a mind,” SIRS said. “I am real. The Fairy with the Turquoise Hair said I was.”

“Who?”

“I… I…. Mandate seven. Mandate seven.” Cavalo felt the grip on his arm loosen slightly. Not enough, but there was some give. The robot’s head fell back, and his eyes flashed. “Carlo Collodi wrote ‘Once upon a time there was a piece of wood. It was not an expensive piece of wood. Far from it. Just a common block of firewood, one of those thick, solid logs that are put on the fire in winter to make cold rooms cozy and warm.’”

“What have you done to it?” the man asked Cavalo. “It’s a bit… odd.”

“It’s
Pinocchio
,” Cavalo said.

“What is
Pinocchio
?”

“A children’s story. From before. He dies.”

“All things do. How long has it been like this? The robot.”

“He was like this when I found him. What is St. Louis?” The name was familiar, but it was a thing lost in bees and pain and snow.

“A place with archaic ideals that will die before they can even learn to crawl,” the man said. “Robot, I want you to connect to St. Louis. It’s time I sent a message.”

“I can’t,” SIRS said.

“And why is that?”

“All uplink capabilities are corrupted.”

“And your central core?”

“Experiencing severe deterioration.”

“How far?”

“Ninety-six percent.”

For the first time, Cavalo saw a flicker of fear in the stranger’s eyes. “And you let me in without warning me?”

The robot took a moment to answer. “You didn’t ask.”

Cavalo thought he smelled something burning. He wondered if it came from inside the robot or in his own head.

“You will refer to me as you are programmed to,” the man snapped.

“Yes.”

“Yes,
what
?”

“Yes, Father.”

“What will the fallout be?”

“Minimal. I am the second generation of the Sentient Integrated Response System. The core is safeguarded against radioactive fallout.”

“Reach?”

“One mile.”

“I am
within
that mile!” the man cried.

“Yes. Father. You are.”

“This is unacceptable!”

“And yet it still is,” the robot said.

“We’ll make this short, then.” The stranger looked back at Cavalo. There was a bead of sweat on his brow. “You have something of mine, something precious. I’d see it returned.”

A sinking feeling hit the pit of Cavalo’s stomach. “Patrick,” he said. “You’re Patrick.”

The man smiled again, and this time, gone was the showman, the cheer, the humanity. This smile was filled with too many teeth, like those wolves from long ago. Like the cave bear. Like Lucas. “I am,” he said. “Where is Lucas? That boy seems to have gotten himself lost.”

“I don’t know.”

“Now, now. We both know that’s not correct. He’s here. He was in Cottonwood. There was apparently a… scuffle, though the specifics elude me.”

“You’re lying,” Cavalo said. He was sure of it. How, he didn’t know. But he did.

“Oh?” The man looked surprised.

“Yes. You knew. You knew the UFSA was here.”

The grin widened. “I like you,” Patrick said. “Quite a bit. You’ve got fire. How is it that I’ve never heard of you before? This place?”

“I keep a low profile.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“Why do you cut yourself off?”

“Why do you eat people?” Cavalo asked.

Patrick laughed. “Fire,” he said again. “In another life, maybe we could have been something more. Not that it matters now. Where is Lucas?”

“I don’t know.”

“Robot. Break his right thumb.”

Nothing happened.

“Robot?”

“Yes,” SIRS said.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Father.”

“I gave you an order.”

“Are you…?” The grinding of gears.

“Am I what?”

When the robot spoke again, his words were slow, as if costing a great deal to get them out. “Are you afraid of God?” SIRS asked.

Gooseflesh prickled along Cavalo’s arms.

“No,” Patrick said, unable to keep the surprise from his voice. “Of course not.”

“You should be.”

“Why?”

“Because he is a vengeful God.”

“There is no God.”

“I’ve seen him,” SIRS said, his grip on Cavalo tightening. “In the numbers. In the code. He is a ghost in the machine.”

“Sentient Integrated Response System. I gave you an order.”

“I…,” the robot said. “I… am… not….”

Cavalo felt his thumb snapped back. The bone broke. He ground his teeth together to keep from screaming. He’d been through worse, he told himself. He’d survived worse.
Run
, he thought, as if Bad Dog could hear him.
Run now. Leave.
Cavalo didn’t expect to make it out of the barracks. Not anymore. He didn’t think there’d ever been a chance, and part of him wondered if he’d known that somehow all along. For a moment he thought of SIRS and what it would do to the robot’s mind if he woke from this spell he was under and found he’d ripped Cavalo apart. He thought that might be the final step for SIRS to sink into his insanity.

Kill him!
the bees howled.
Let your arm break, and kill this intruder! Put your hands around his neck and choke him until his eyes bulge and his skin turns purple.

Patrick must have seen something in Cavalo’s eyes, anger and rage. Perhaps the fire. “I’m not a stupid man,” he said. “If I don’t return, then my people in and around Cottonwood will tear it to the ground.” He smiled as Cavalo’s eyes widened. “That’s right. You didn’t think that I could get this information on my own, did you? Oh, Cavalo. No. This was
given
to me. It was a
gift
. Not everyone in Cottonwood belongs to you.”

“They don’t belong to anyone,” Cavalo said through gritted teeth. “They are free.”

“No one is free,” Patrick said. “Not anymore.”

“Why didn’t you know about me, then?”

He frowned. “Good question. There will be… consequences, I think. But I know now. I know where you dwell. I know who your friends are. I know how to break you. You may think you’re stronger, that you’re more than just a man. But in the end, you’ll break, just like everyone else. Like Warren. He begged, you know. When his time came.”

Cavalo was sure if he opened his mouth, the bees would pour out in an angry swarm. He almost let them come.

“He was not your man,” Patrick said. “He worked for me. Did you know that?”

“You lie,” Cavalo hissed. Warren would never. He would never do that. Not to the people of Cottonwood. Not to Alma.

“No,” Patrick said. He almost sounded regretful. “I don’t. We had a deal, he and I. He kept me… up to date, if you will, on the goings-on of Cottonwood and its people. Though, it seems as if he hid things from me.”

“What did you give him in return?”

“Robot.”

No response.

“
Robot
.”

“Yes. Father.”

“Do you know time?”

“An infinite thing that will come to an end,” SIRS said.

“For all of us,” Patrick agreed. “Though sooner for some. Twenty-one days from today brings the Solstice. Two in the afternoon. Can you mark it?”

The robot whirred. “Yes.”

“Is it done?”

“Yes, Father.”

“I will give you twenty-one days,” Patrick said to Cavalo. “To turn him over. Twenty-one days to make sure the boy is returned to me. If on the twenty-first day, Lucas is not waiting for me on the southern road into Cottonwood, ready to submit, then I will bring hellfire down and scorch the earth as if the End was happening again and again and again. Do you understand?”

“They mean nothing to me.”

Patrick laughed. “So you say.” He turned toward the doorway.

“Others have held that town over me before,” Cavalo said after him. His hands hurt, but the pain was fading as they went numb.

Patrick stopped but did not turn. “Oh?”

“Do you know what happened to them?”

“I can guess.”

“I killed them.”

“I would have guessed correctly. For someone who doesn’t care, you seem to kill many in their name. Why is that?”

“No one should live afraid.”

Patrick glanced back at him over his shoulder. “And yet you hide out here, cut off from the rest of the world. What is it you fear, Cavalo?”

“Nothing.”

Everything
, the bees screamed.

Patrick sighed and turned back to Cavalo. It was only a second before he was pressed full length against Cavalo. Patrick gripped his face, turning it and pressing his lips near Cavalo’s ear. “You will know fear,” he said quietly. “By the time I am done with you, you will know it completely. You will be alive when my people start to eat you. I will see the fear in your eyes, and above your screams, beyond your own blood dripping into your eyes, I will remind you of
this
moment.” Teeth scraped against Cavalo’s neck, and then Patrick stepped away.