Laying a hand on her forehead, feeling the heat boiling off her skin, he turned his gaze to the sky.
Memphis arrived soon after. He hovered over the bowl, looking down from the airpod, then slid the craft sideways, back over the trees that ringed the depression. The airpod was so quiet that Geoffrey had to strain to hear the fading of its engine sound as it settled down out of view.
A minute or so later, Memphis appeared in person at the top of the slope. After no more than a moment’s hesitation he came down the slope, half-skidding and half-running, flailing his arms to maintain balance. When he reached Sunday’s side he touched a hand to her forehead, then examined the cuff.
Geoffrey studied his expression. ‘Is she going to be all right?’
‘I think so, Geoffrey. You did very well.’ Memphis looked back at the tank, as if noticing it for the first time. ‘How close did she get to it?’
‘She was standing on it.’
‘It’s a bad machine,’ Memphis explained. ‘There was a war here once, one of the last in Africa.’
‘Sunday said there was a little boy in the tank.’
Memphis lifted her from the ground, cradling her in his arms. ‘Can you climb up the slope on your own, Geoffrey?
‘I think so.’
‘We must get Sunday back to the household. She will be all right, but the sooner she is seen by a neuropractor, the better.’
Geoffrey scrambled ahead, determined to show that he could take care of himself. ‘But what about the little boy?’
‘He doesn’t exist. There is nothing in that tank but more machines, some of which are very clever.’
‘This isn’t the first tank you’ve seen?’
‘No,’ Memphis said carefully. ‘Not the first. But the last time I saw one of them moving, I was very small.’ Looking back, Geoffrey caught Memphis’s quick smile. Clearly he did not wish Geoffrey to have nightmares about killing machines stalking the Earth. ‘They are gone now, except for a few left behind, buried in the earth like this one.’
They were on the slope now, climbing. ‘How could it escape?’
Memphis paused for breath. It must have been hard, carrying Sunday and also having to keep his own balance. ‘The artilect sensed the presence of Sunday’s machines, the ones inside her head. It worked out how to talk to them, how to make Sunday think there was someone calling.’
The idea of a machine tricking his sister – tricking her well enough that she had nearly convinced Geoffrey as well – was enough to chill him even as he sweated uphill.
‘What would have happened if she hadn’t fallen?’
‘The tank might have tried to persuade her to help it. Or it might have been trying to exploit some deeper vulnerability. Whatever it did, it caused your sister to go into seizure.’
‘But the tank is very old, and Sunday’s machines are very new. How could it trick them?’
‘Very old things are sometimes cleverer than very new things. Or slyer, at least.’ They were climbing steadily now, almost near the top of the slope. ‘That is why they are forbidden, or at least very carefully controlled.’
Geoffrey looked back, feeling a weird combination of fear and pity for the half-entombed thing. ‘What will happen to the tank?’
‘It will be taken care of,’ Memphis said gently. ‘For now, it is your sister we must concern ourselves with.’
They’d attained level ground. A narrow trail wound through the trees. Geoffrey hadn’t seen it when they had come through, but it must have been clearly visible from the air. They set off along it, to the airpod that was waiting out of sight.
‘Will she be all right?’
‘I doubt any great harm has been done. It was good that you were there, to put the machines into shutdown. Ah.’ Without warning, Memphis had stopped.
Geoffrey halted at his side. ‘Is it Sunday?’
‘No,’ the thin man said, still not raising his voice. ‘It is Mephisto. He is ahead of us, on the trail. Do you see him?’
In the dusky shade of the trail, canopied by trees, a huge light-dappled form blocked their path. The elephant was scuffing its trunk back and forth in the dust. It had one tusk, the other snapped off. Something in its posture conveyed unmistakable belligerence, its forehead lowered like a battering ram.
‘Mephisto is an old bull male,’ Memphis said. ‘He is very aggressive and territorial. I saw him from the air, but he appeared to be moving away from us. I was hoping we could avoid an encounter today.’
Geoffrey was puzzled and frightened. He’d seen plenty of elephants before, but never sensed this degree of wariness from his mentor.
‘We could go around,’ he said.
‘Mephisto will not let us. He knows this area much better than we do, and he can move more quickly than us, especially with Sunday to carry.’
‘Why doesn’t he want us to pass?’
‘There is something wrong in his head.’ Memphis paused. ‘Geoffrey, would you look away, please? I must do something that I would rather not.’
