sure she had a special passage all to her own.
He entered the hall and fell to one knee and bowed to the nascent Father of Machines on his throne. Glissa was in her usual place at the base of the high throne, and Geth did not look at her.
“Ah,” Glissa said, projecting her voice so the golem would be sure to hear, if he was listening, which Geth doubted. “Our lord of the Vault has arrived.” She clearly hated him at least as much as he hated her.
“I am here to give successful tidings,” Geth said.
The chancellor minion scurried over to him, tink-tink-tinking the metal floor with its claws. The creature’s robe was still rotting off its miserable little body, Geth saw. The hood it wore was still low over its eyes, showing only its stubby, cleaverlike teeth. A book was clutched in its metal claws.
“Maybe, Lord, you are not familiar with the time The Father of Machines called this meeting?” It said, opening the book and moving one fingertip down the page.
Geth swatted the book from its claws. The minion scrambled across the floor to collect the book off the ground.
“If there was anything written in that book, anything but the scribbles you make with your bloodied fingertips, then I would pay more attention,” Geth said.
It was the same every time. The little theatrical play they put on for the golem’s benefit.
But it was somehow different. Geth could feel it. The minion scrambled but did not pick up the book. It stood over it without bending. Geth had forgotten why the little creature was always in the chamber.
A howling cry cut the air, making the very walls shake. The cry was filled with some of the most exquisite angst and pain Geth had ever heard. But for one severe moment Geth thought the chamber would fall in on itself.
His eyes went to Glissa, who was looking up at the throne.
The golem bellowed in frustration and anger as he tried to stand. Geth knew that the throne was bound to his metal spine, ingrown, but the golem was strong and pulled until the throne released him and he stood to his full height.
The minions that held his throne column on their backs readjusted their stances.
Karn crumpled into a crouch, sobbing. Then he tipped forward and tumbled off the top of the throne column. It was a high column, and Geth watched as the golem hit the floor with a tremendous thud.
Moments later Karn stood out of the dent and fell to his knees, raving in a language Geth could not hope to understand.
“Father of Machines,” Glissa said, her voice as smooth as the oil dripping out of her eyes. “We have council with you today.” She snapped her fingers at the minion, and the little creature scrambled over with the book, which it popped open and held up before Karn’s wide-eyed face. The silver golem looked down at the book, his face jumping to an expression of pain and then to one of anger and then to tears.
Geth could clearly see the rivulets of black oil popping out on his brow. Glissa noticed it too, Geth was sure of that. More fuel to the fire for those that said that Karn was not the true Father of Machines, no matter how much Glissa wanted to make him thus.
His body was fighting the oil, that much was certain. More times than not Geth found him that way at their councils. He found him raving mad, teetering between clarity and instability.
The oil could do that as it was moving through the pathways of the chosen’s neurological workings, Geth had been told. But that period in the transformation only took a couple of days at most. Karn had been volatile for months. His body was simply not accepting what they all were offering. At least that was what those in command said of Karn, when nobody was listening.
Glissa would not hear of it. Brothers had lost their hands and then heads. Sisters had disappeared. Since Glissa had become fully Phyrexian, with a right hand wrought and strong, and a dull scythe for a left, she listened to zero backtalk. She even refused to allow Karn his tantrums, if she could help it.
The minion, all silver and sculpted smooth, snapped his book closed and skittered away into a shadow. Glissa sauntered over to Karn and helped him stand straight. He looked down at her arm before peering around. “What is this place?” he bellowed.
“This is your throne room, Father,” Glissa said.
“Who is that?” Karn pointed.
Tezzeret stood at the end of Karn’s pointed finger.
“Father,” Tezzeret said. “It is I, your Tezzeret. Here to counsel you away from these bootlickers.” Tezzeret smiled and flexed his arm.
Geth wanted to look away. Truth be told, that arm with its bonelike claw caused him great worry. He imagined it crushing his skull when he was trying to sleep.
“Oh look, the toady of Bolas calls us bootlickers,” Glissa said. “You are late as usual.”
Tezzeret bowed slightly. “Guilty as charged. Please accept my most sincere apology.”
Karn fell to his knees with a clank. “Machines,” he said. “Machines.”
“I can see that today we have filth,” Tezzeret said. “This is Karn’s weakness leaving his body.”
“Father of Machines, I think you mean,” Glissa said. She watched Karn kneeling on the floor. Then she turned to Tezzeret. “Your contributions on Father’s well-being, one-arm, are both useful and valuable. Thank you.” Glissa said icily.
“Only trying to help.”
“What is a machine,” Karn was whispering. He reached down to the floor and as easily as Geth might tear a human’s skin from his body, Karn pushed his finger into the metal of the floor and tore out a head-sized sheet. He held it up before his face.
“This is flesh,” he said. “But where is metal?”
“He is not himself today,” Glissa said.
“Really, do you think not?” Tezzeret said.
Glissa ignored him. She bent down to help Karn to his feet, but he would not cooperate, and Glissa could as easily lift Karn as she could the Oxidda Chain. He remained on his knees regarding the flat metal piece.
“How do we fix him?” Geth said.
“He is not broken, dunce,” Tezzeret said. “He is not a machine.”
“But he is metal,” Geth growled, his own exoskeletal framework swelling with anger.
“So are you, and nobody’s been able to fix what’s wrong with you.”
Geth moved to swipe Tezzeret’s neck with his huge claw. Tezzeret merely grabbed Geth’s claw with his etherium hand and in a moment the claw was bent into the form of a five-petal flower.
Geth bellowed and raised his other claw.
Tezzeret held up one finger. “Attention. I will turn your other hand into something more, shall we say, anatomically correct for where I will insert it if you continue this.”
It took Geth a moment to piece through what Tezzeret said. His anger seemed to swell even more when understanding bloomed on his face.
“Are you both done?” Glissa said.
“I have always dreamed of being flesh,” Karn said. “Metal is cold. Flesh is a meat machine. Flesh is metal.”
Tezzeret smiled at Geth, who was looking down at his one good claw.
“I have received word of a totally flesh being,” Glissa said. Karn suddenly looked up at her.
“Flesh is a cage too,” Karn yelled.
Glissa ignored him. “Would either of you have any idea how we could use such a freak?”
Both Geth and Tezzeret shook their heads.
“You’ll have to be creative,” Tezzeret said. “I would have no idea what to do with such an anomaly.”
“You lie too well,” Glissa said. “It gives you away. Your master sent you here to assist, I believe.”
“That is what he said,” Tezzeret said.
“I believe there is a certain caveat to this endeavor. She cannot be infected by our gift.”
“Really?” Tezzeret said. “Perhaps she should be released to the rebel settlement.”
Then Karn began bellowing. “Maybe what we think makes us free is nothing more than a symptom of our cage,” he said.
All three stopped and turned. Karn was regarding his own steely hand very closely.
