“What’s become of me?” he asked.
“Like we were saying,” Gauge said after a moment of solemn silence, “we weren’t able to save your body. But that doesn’t mean you won’t still be able to use one.”
King Hum lifted his mechanical hand and stared at it. He observed the little wires, the interlocking metal pieces, the rubber and polymer that separated the joints. His face was cold — his emotions impossible to decrypt. Everyone watched him, not daring to interrupt the moment.
“I’m a fool,” King Hum said, lowering his arm. “I should have seen through the illusion.” He looked over at Adviser Orram. “I’m not fit to be a king anymore.”
“Nonsense, your grace,” the older man said. “You were chosen by God and the spirit of the Earth.”
“And I was just tricked by them, too,” King Hum said, his voice louder than Ethan or Tera had ever heard it. “Please, Orram — leave me. And do not allow any of our people to see me. Not like this.”
“As you wish,” Adviser Orram replied, bowing slightly. “However, I will continue to serve you. I have no plans of — ”
“I said leave me,” the young king ordered once more. He turned his gaze away from the others. On the other side of the room, he saw two containers. One was empty, the lights extinguished, but the other was still filled with green goo. He could see a form floating in the middle of it.
He took a step toward the simpod, leaning forward to see the face inside. He already knew what he would see but it still took him by surprise.
“So this is it,” he said aloud, gazing at his own face through the glass of the simpod. “This is what death looks like.”
“I’m sorry, King Hum,” Gauge said. The others remained silent.
He turned back to them. “I’d like to have it put to rest, if I may,” he said.
“Of course,” Betsy said, nodding her augmented head. “Whatever you need.”
“Good,” King Hum replied. “I’m going to need all the help I can get to destroy Reverend Nidus and the Council.”
Scheming
King Hum was the last to join the table, a timid look across his artificial features as he took his seat. His chair scraped across the metal floor, causing Ethan to cringe in response. The others waited patiently for the young monarch to get comfortable. He frowned as he did so.
A giant map of Shell City was spread out over the table. The Clevingers stood at one end, Betsy balancing herself up on her arms as she leaned against the surface.
“That’s everyone, right?” Martin said through his wife’s speaker. “Okay, good. We can get started. Gauge?”
The I.I. rebel seemed caught off guard for a moment before rising to his feet and looking around at the table with a serious expression.
“Our plan is to take the Pavilion in a full frontal assault,” Gauge started, scanning the faces surrounding him. “The first step to doing that is to create a diversion at the city gates.”
“What kind of diversion?” King Hum asked.
“A secondary attack on all of the routes in and out of the city,” Gauge answered. “It’s just for show. Hopefully we can divide their forces and make it easier for our guys to take the Council’s storage unit.”
“Then allow me to offer my troops for the distraction,” the young monarch said. His optical lights stared at Gauge without blinking.
“How do we move our people to the Pavilion without giving away our hand?” Tera asked. “I’m sure seeing hundreds of rebels storming their memory banks will give away our deception. Not to mention how likely it is we’ll be stopped before ever getting to the Pavilion.”
“That’s why we’re going to take them by surprise through the geothermal ducts,” Gauge explained. “There are a couple of routes that run from the Furnace to the Pavilion; enough to sneak an entire army up there without the Council being any the wiser.”
“What will keep the soldiers away from the Pavilion once we take them by surprise?” Adviser Orram said. “They’ll surely disengage our people at the gate when you play your hand.”
“By then it’ll be too late,” Gauge explained. “But we do have a plan to delay their response.”
Betsy took over. “Martin and I are channeling the last of our wealth into weapons for the citizens of Shell City,” she started. “We want to arm as many people as possible; especially if they’re sympathetic to our cause. That means putting a gun in the hands of every slum dweller we can. That way the Council troops will have an entire city of angry, armed citizens between them and the Pavilion.”
“Maybe we can push it further and start a riot,” Ethan said. “Shouldn’t be hard to do. It’s practically a powder keg down there. We just need to strike a match, so to speak.”
“If we place a few actors in the right place, a riot is all but certain,” Tera commented. “The slum dwellers are itching for a reason to fight against the cops. I can show you where they will be the most effective.”
“Perfect,” Martin said, his voice buzzing a little in his wife’s skull speaker. “That should cover the diversion.”
“Won’t you be a little thin on the Pavilion without my army?” King Hum asked. “Even with a distraction, there should be plenty of resistance there.”
“The repairs on the gunships are almost done,” Gauge started. “They’ll be ready to provide some air support once we start storming the Pavilion. If we can take care of any anti-aircraft defenses when we first start the attack, they can rain fire upon the enemies.”
The table fell silent. Every pair of eyes turned down to the map of Shell City before them. King Hum nodded for a moment before breaking the silence.
“It sounds like we have a plan,” he said matter-of-factly. If he felt any joy over that, no one could tell. “We can win
