Kavan saw the way that Calor looked at them, her shell reflecting the patterns, and he realized something. The craft were big and they were bright, and though they were much smaller than the city, they seemed to dwarf it. Whoever was flying those craft, it seemed to Kavan, was sending out a message.
We are here. And we are in control.
Susan and Spoole stood by the window, gazing up at the enormous craft that floated overhead. The room was illuminated in red and green, the patterns of light played across the chequered floor.
‘It’s bigger than the Basilica,’ said Spoole. ‘What have the Generals done?’
‘Made peace with a bigger bully,’ said Susan. ‘You were right, Spoole. It’s too late to fight these people. The other Generals have outmanoeuvred you.’
‘You’re giving up so easily?’
‘It makes no difference to me,’ said Susan. ‘I don’t care who’s oppressing me.’
‘You don’t mean that,’ said Spoole.
‘Spoole, I don’t care. Welcome to my forge. Welcome to the world I have lived in since you and your Choarh state destroyed mine.’
Spoole couldn’t take his eyes from the vast shape hanging overhead. Every surface in the room danced to the movement of its lights.
‘Maybe the Generals were right,’ he said, softly. ‘What else could they do?’
‘I think they were right,’ said Susan, and a vicious pleasure welled up inside her. ‘What does that say about Nyro, Spoole?’
Spoole didn’t answer.
‘She’s dead, Spoole!’ Susan couldn’t keep the savage joy from her voice. All the suffering she had endured, now was the time she could pay some of it back. ‘Nyro has gone, Spoole. If not now, then in a few days or a few weeks. The Generals have given the city away to a greater power, and from now on you’ll be playing by its rules!’
She laughed.
Spoole turned and looked at her, and his eyes were bright.
‘What now, Spoole? What will you do now?’
He didn’t reply, he raised his hands slightly, as if he was going to attack her. She didn’t care. She was having her revenge.
‘Well, Spoole? What now that Nyro has gone?’
He lowered his hands.
‘What now?’ he repeated. ‘Susan, you’re right. Nyro has no place in this city any more. This is not the place I was made to lead. I’m free to go.’
The vicious smile faded from Susan’s face as he spoke.
‘Yes,’ said Spoole. ‘Free to go.’
‘No,’ said Susan, disappointed to be cheated this easily of her revenge, poor though it was. ‘No you’re not. Stay here, Spoole. Stay here and see how pointless it all is. Everything that you fought for, everything that you did to me and my family. All for nothing.’
But all the doubt had gone from Spoole. He was his old self again, calm and assured.
‘Would that make you happy? Don’t be so silly Susan. No. We need to go now. Both of us.’
‘Both of us? But why should I come with you?’
‘Because this is wrong. The Generals are wrong. You asked me for help not two minutes ago. Well, I’m offering it. Come on, we’re going to find out what happened to your friend. And then, maybe, we will have some proof of what it is that the Generals have done. We’re going to show Artemis City that this is not Nyro’s way.’
The dark surface of Lake Ochoa was flecked red with burning mirrors of the rising sun. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do and the robots ran along its shore, metal feet slipping on the pebbles, kicking them, sending them dancing across the water. To their left a railway train burned: long tanker wagons were torn apart; they belched black diesel smoke into the sky. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do saw the line of bullet holes down the side of them. Those wouldn’t have caused an explosion, he reflected. Those strange craft must have also been firing incendiaries.
Past the burning train, metal moving to a steady pulse, they turned from the lake shore and headed to the City Gate, clearly visible before them now, wide open and guarded by four humans wearing green panelling. They carried rifles, but not like the ones Wa-Ka-Mo-Do had seen before. These weapons were shorter and constructed mainly of plastic. What little metal there was, was of an odd alloy that felt strangely transparent to Wa-Ka-Mo-Do’s senses. Those guns made him feel uncomfortable. They were different – alien. Just like the humans.
Their attitude and demeanour had changed since yesterday, he noted.
The running troop slowed to a halt, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do coming to attention before one of the humans.
‘Thank you for your service here today,’ he said. ‘May I respectfully ask, where is the Imperial Guard?’
The human made an odd motion, and Wa-Ka-Mo-Do realized he wasn’t wearing a translation device.
‘Come on,’ he called, and stepped forward. The humans stood to one side, allowing him to pass, and Wa- Ka-Mo-Do headed into the city, his troops marching along behind him. Inside his gyros were spinning. What would he have done if the humans had tried to prevent him from entering Sangrel?
The Street of Becoming was littered with broken tiles and rubble. Bullet holes stitched the upper parts of the buildings. Dark cracks spread across their walls, and a fine sprinkling of dust fell on the robots.
There were four more humans guarding the top gates of the Street of Becoming, each of them holding the same strange new weapons as those at the bottom. Behind them, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do noted with some relief, were ten warriors of the Emperor’s Army. La-Ver-Di-Arussah stood at their head.
‘Honoured Commander,’ she said. There was a scratch on her brightly polished body.
‘La-Ver-Di-Arussah, there are humans guarding the entrance to the Emperor’s city of Sangrel. Did you not, perhaps, feel this to be an insult to his name?’
‘These are the Emperor’s orders, Honoured Commander,’ replied La-Ver-Di-Arussah coolly.
I don’t believe you! The words died in Wa-Ka-Mo-Do’s voicebox. It seemed that things had gone so wrong here in Sangrel she probably was telling the truth.
‘How badly damaged is the city?’ he asked.
‘The flying craft fired missiles that hit the Emperor’s Palace. Several humans died. Furthermore, they have destroyed some of the buildings that the humans erected by the lake.’
‘What about robots? How many citizens are dead?’
‘We haven’t yet had the time to find that out. The Emperor instructs us that the humans must be assisted first.’
‘Surely you questioned these orders?’
‘One does not question the Emperor, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. We are to secure a passage way from Smithy Square to the Gate of Becoming to allow the humans to bring in new equipment.’
‘No! I don’t believe it! How do you know this is what the Emperor wishes?’
‘His orders were relayed here by radio not one hour ago.’
Did he believe her? He didn’t know.
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do looked down at his hands. His body was covered in grime, a thin patina of dust from the human crops. He felt dirty and disconnected from this city. Nothing seemed to be making sense.
‘La-Ver-Di-Arussah. Think on this: there was already tension in this city before the attack. Imagine the feelings of the citizens now! If we go out and are seen helping to rebuild some of the damage caused by the human craft we may calm things a little.’
‘It is not our job to calm things. The Emperor wishes any rebellion to be quashed in the most brutal manner possible, as an example to other cities.’
She was smiling as she spoke. The gar was actually smiling. ‘After all,’ she added, ‘the Emperor has many more robots. He doesn’t have that many humans.’
