responsible for the death of her child, the loss of her husband and the destruction of her home.
Spoole had turned and was looking out of the window again, gazing at nothing. His body seemed simply constructed, but Susan recognized excellent metal work when she saw it. She could feel best-quality steel, her fingertips almost tingled at its presence. Spoole was an expert at bending metal, his handiwork had a cold sort of humour about it: his body was austere at first glance, but elegantly made when you took a closer look. It was the same joke that the Centre City had played on the rest of the continent, as they had taken it apart.
One of the perpetrators of that joke was standing right in front of her. If she brought down her hand hard enough, she could break his coil. So what was stopping her?
And she knew the answer. Vignette had been right. Until you live the reality, you can never be sure the way your mind is woven. This wasn’t the way she was made.
‘You can’t see Kavan’s troops from here,’ said Spoole, conversationally. ‘The wall obstructs their view.’
‘Really, Sir?’ said Susan.
‘You are from Turing City, aren’t you? We don’t say ‘Sir’ in Artemis, Susan.’
‘Very well.’
‘You didn’t build walls around Turing City either, did you, Susan?’
‘No, Spoole.’
‘Nor did we in the past. But things have changed. I remain here whilst others lead.’ He turned suddenly to face Susan. ‘They leave someone to guard me, and I don’t know whether it is an insult or a subtle threat. What do you think, Susan?’
He was testing her. Or was he teasing her?
‘I don’t know,’ she said.
‘And what would you do if they attacked me now, Susan. Would you defend me?’
‘If who attacked you?’
‘Though they forget I used to be a soldier too,’ continued Spoole, not appearing to notice her question. ‘If they do come in here, they’ll have the two of us to fight.’
‘Who will attack us, Spoole? You mean Kavan, right?’
‘Kavan?’ laughed Spoole. ‘Kavan is the least of my problems.’
Kavan
The attack was the culmination of Artemis’s hundred-year climb to supremacy on Shull. It was the greatest so far of Kavan’s career. And yet its beginning was strangely low-key.
The orders radiated out from Kavan’s position, they circled the iron walls, passed on from robot to robot. When the metal circuit was complete, the attack began.
Kavan formed two groups of infantry, two hundred yards apart, and set them firing on the robots between the first two moats. Copper and lead and cupronickel formed an almost solid wall in the air, it thumped into the earth of the mound, riddling the soil with metal.
The robots on the mound were trapped between the two groups of infantry that Karel had formed, and those groups now started to move towards each other, cutting down the robots opposite, riddling them with holes, piercing electromuscle, shattering plate, cutting through the wire of the mind.
‘Then you simply repeat the process all around the mound,’ said Goeppert, delighted. ‘Whoever commands that army has trapped their soldiers there with no means of support.’
‘I know,’ said Kavan. ‘And that worries me. Spoole is not a fool.’
Goeppert looked at the wall of robots who stood behind the two firing groups.
‘What are they for?’
‘To capture the metal that is fired back at us. It will lodge in their bodies, ready to be used again.’
The glow of portable forges could be seen, way back from the lines. Robots would be waiting there to melt down the metal reclaimed and recast it as minie balls and spitzer rounds that would be passed back, still warm, to the troops on the front line. Ada was back there too, directing the robots who were now at work on the wide platforms they would use to bridge the moats.
Kavan gazed at the two groups of infantry, shuffling towards each other as they fired. The night was lit with the flash of powder from the older guns, the spark of electromuscle suddenly punctured, the blue glow of a mind suddenly pierced, expending its life force in one flash.
‘It seems to me,’ he began, ‘that Spoole is trying to slow us down, not stop us completely. Why else would he build his fortifications in this manner?’
The defenders on the iron wall finally understood what was happening. They brought their cannon and mortars to bear on Kavan’s infantryrobots. A staccato tattoo travelled down the walls, and heavy canister rained down upon Kavan’s lines.
Clouds of dark chaff exploded amongst the troops, glittering silver as the scraps of foil caught the light of the battle. Kavan’s vision began to blink with interference.
‘The chaff is electrified,’ said Calor. ‘They’ll follow it up with iron filings next.’
More canisters rained down, and Kavan saw, through flickering vision, black lines drawn by the magnetized iron on the bodies of his and the other soldiers.
Engineers moved in, laying a magnetic perimeter to draw off the chaff, but the defenders switched to shrapnel bombs. Corkscrews of metal spun through the air, burrowing their way into bodies and limbs. A nearby robot froze, and the light in its eyes faded. It fell forward, to reveal the shaft of iron that pierced the back of its head.
‘Gather the metal!’ called Kavan. ‘Pull it back to the forges!’
No one heard him in the crackling confusion caused by the chaff, but his command was unnecessary. Already Scouts, frustrated by their lack of input to this kind of battle, were dashing back and forth, carrying what metal they could find. Even the long black tails of iron filings that followed them like whizz lines would be reclaimed.
The magnetic perimeter was in place. Already the air was getting clearer, as it pulled chaff and iron filings towards itself. A pattering, ringing noise started, and Kavan realized it had begun to rain.
‘Good,’ he called. ‘This will clear the air further!’
Now he could see the two firing groups once more. They had almost met up. Beyond them, on the section of the mound, nothing moved.
‘Some of them flung themselves into the far trench rather than be shot,’ said Calor, peering through the distorted air with her enhanced vision.
‘We’ll capture their metal later on,’ said Kavan. ‘Set up two groups again, this time four hundred feet apart. We’re clearing a path straight through here, right now.’
‘Very well, Kavan.’ She looked beyond the trenches. ‘Then there will only be the wall to pass.’
Was she being sarcastic? Kavan said nothing. Behind him he could hear Goeppert and the rest of the Borners checking over their bodies, ready for the ascent of the wall.
Susan and Spoole
Somewhere in the distance, the sky began to flicker.
‘The battle has begun,’ said Spoole. ‘Kavan has returned at last.’
‘Are you worried?’ asked Susan.
Spoole turned and gazed at her. He didn’t seem concerned. He turned back to the window.
‘We take conscripts too easily,’ he said. ‘These past years we have placed too high a value on expansion at all costs. We have forgotten Nyro’s way.’
He stared at the flickering in the night sky.
‘No, Susan, I’m not worried, at least not in the way you think. If Kavan were to lead this city, it would at least be according to Nyro’s way.’
The window was vast, squares of glass set in a metal frame. It curved at the edges, the top and bottom. Again Susan was struck by how Artemis could make such an austere statement of power and beauty, so totally different to those formerly made in Turing City.
Drops of rain began to streak the window. Other than their pattering on the glass, there was no sound.
The silence unnerved Susan.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘do you think Kavan will win through?’
‘No. Kavan will not win this time.’ He spoke the words with some sadness.
‘You’re not an infantryrobot, are you Susan?’ said Spoole suddenly. ‘I wonder what you are. I sent out
