‘Then so am I,’ said Vignette, coldly. Her eyes glowed for a moment and then faded back to normal level.
‘Good luck, Susan,’ she said.
‘You too.’
The two women turned and headed off in opposite directions. Back to the lights of Artemis City. Back to the approaching war.
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do and the rest of the troop waited amongst the tall shapes of the human crops. The plants were so strange. Where robot plants were thin and fibrous, ideal for making paper and other useful materials, these human crops were mutants, the yellow fruits at the top of the stalks hugely oversized, so heavy they threatened to topple the whole plant. No wonder the farmers out here were so angry! What use would plants like this be to the robots of Sangrel?
He raised himself up and peered north through the top of the stalks.
From this distance, Sangrel was a scene of golden radiance set on a black throne. The city was a collection of jewelled lights beneath the bright stars. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do wondered what was happening back there. Was La-Ver-Di- Arussah following his orders? There was nothing he could do about it out here, that was certain.
He thought back over the past few days, wondering at the events in this province: his presence in Sangrel, the death in the market place, the trouble in Ell, the trouble that threatened here tonight, the humans.
The humans were more powerful than the Emperor had led him to believe. Yet there was something more… He thought of Rachael, the night before. Her father’s behaviour, the way that her translator had kept cutting out.
What was it they were holding back? Did the Emperor know?
He remembered the Emperor’s insistence that this had nothing to do with the Book of Robots.
It was funny, robots like La-Ver-Di-Arussah mocked him, questioned out loud if he believed in the Book of Robots.
How could they be so stupid? Of course he didn’t. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do had the knowledge woven directly into his mind by his mother. He didn’t believe in the book, he knew it to be true. He knew that there was a pattern of instructions for the first robot mind. He knew that there was a way robots were supposed to be.
What terrified him was the thought that he may have met his makers. He hoped that it wasn’t true.
Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned to see the captain beckoning. He followed him through the tall plants, pushing aside the mutant stalks until they came to a path trampled through the centre of the crops. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do bent down to examine the trail. It was recent. Quickly, silently, he followed it until it came to a fork. He listened carefully. He could hear a sound in the distance. Robots trying to move quietly.
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do pointed to one path after the other, indicating that the troops should split up. The captain nodded and gestured to some of the red-brass soldiers behind him. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do watched them lope quickly down the path, impressed. These soldiers were well built and well trained. A few civilians should present them with no problems.
He signalled to the remaining soldiers to follow, and led them silently down the path. Up ahead he could hear the sound of splashing. Petrol. They were going to set fire to the crops, just as the Vestal Virgins had predicted. He unslung his shotgun and swept it in a wide circle, indicating that the soldiers should fan out.
Somewhere in the distance he heard the crackle of gunfire, and he realized it was the captain attacking.
‘Now!’ he shouted.
The soldiers jumped forward, surprising the saboteurs, firing once, twice. They dropped their petrol canisters. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do drew his sword and slashed down at a third robot. The saboteurs were efficiently dispatched.
‘Stop!’ he commanded, holding the blade of his sword before a soldier’s raised gun. ‘We need at least one to question.’
The hum of current died away, leaving the robots standing amongst the broken stalks. Broken bodies lay around them, the living still squealing in electronic pain. As for the dead: twisted metal uncoiled across the ground. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do suddenly realized just how pathetic these people were. Their panelling was of cheap tin, they hummed and buzzed as they moved. They sounded as if their electromuscles were full of dust and dirt. He could see how poorly repaired they were, and he wondered when they had last seen the inside of a forge.
‘On your knees,’ shouted a soldier, pushing the captive down. She reached out and unfastened one arm, whilst another soldier did the same on the other side.
‘Please don’t kill me,’ begged the saboteur on the ground. ‘My husband, my children-’
‘Silence,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. He didn’t feel any particular anger towards this being. Rather he felt pity; pity at her circumstances, at what she had been reduced to.
‘How many more of you are there?’ he demanded.
‘There were twelve of us, Honoured Commander.’
‘Why do you act in this fashion?’
‘We have no land, Honoured Commander. We have no purpose, no place to go. We wanted someone to heed our situation. The Emperor is merciful and wise and just. He will surely act when he is aware of our plight!’
‘You seek to sabotage his lands!’
‘We meant no harm to the Emperor! You must believe me! We only harm the humans’ possessions.’
‘And risk the Emperor losing face in doing so?’
The saboteur looked at the floor in shame.
‘Honoured Commander!’
One of the soldiers was holding up a metal canister. There was something very peculiar about its shape.
‘Is that of human construction?’ asked Wa-Ka-Mo-Do.
‘I think so. It’s what they were using to carry the petrol.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do turned back to the captive.
‘More dishonour! Where did you steal that from?’
‘Honoured Commander! I swear we did not! It was waiting for us at the edge of the fields, as we were told it would be.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do took hold of the can and felt the metal with his hand. It reminded him a little of the chain Rachael had worn: good quality metal but poorly constructed.
‘Who told you it would be there?’
‘We never got to see our intermediary.’
‘No, you wouldn’t.’ Wa-Ka-Mo-Do was silent. He looked down at the woman before him. She had mentioned a husband and children. ‘You realize the penalty for your crime is death?’
The woman said nothing. She looked so pathetic, kneeling there, her arms removed, her tin body filled with dust and dirt.
‘Though it gives me no pleasure to carry out the execution, I have nothing but sympathy for you.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do was merciful indeed. His sword had struck as he spoke these last words. The saboteur was dead before she was even aware of it. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do gazed down at her.
‘Bring the metal back to the city,’ he said.
‘What about the petrol canister, Honoured Commander?’
‘Bring that too. But conceal it.’
He looked at it again, puzzled.
‘Someone is using these people. There is more to this than a few upset farmers, I am sure. Who is behind all this?’
‘Commander?’
‘Nothing.’
They waited at the edge of the fields for the rest of the soldiers to rejoin them.
‘All this way for a few peasants,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do as the captain took his place at his side.
‘It could have been serious had they caused any damage, Honoured Commander.’
‘Perhaps. I can’t help thinking that was not the primary reason I was brought here.’
He looked northwards, back to Sangrel. It looked so beautiful, a copper sculpture beneath the silver
