• Published 11th Nov 2012
  • 775 Views, 7 Comments

All the King's Horses - Cherry Rie



What is left to save, when you're more machine then Human?

  • ...
1
 7
 775

Chapter One


All the king’s horses


What is there left to save, when you are more machine then human?


A Conversion Bureau story in the Pale Mare Saga.

Chapter one


Pain dragged the tormented youth briefly from the throws of drowning sleep, head spinning as the impact of withdrawal slammed her senses into a delirious stupor. Short panicked breaths drew sharp lines of agony along her fractured ribs, catching the scream in red hot talons as the bewilderingly unfamiliar world wobbled in and out of focus.

Where was this place? For a dreadful moment, the dark stained sheets entrapping her pulled the girl’s drug craving mind back towards vivid recollection. She saw the padded walls that had held her between each debasing show, felt the leather manacles around her wrists chaining her to the filthy bed, heard the lock turn as her next assailant was led in for his paid sample of the merchandise.

A quiet whimper escaped from her lips as ghostly hands brushed against tender skin. Fat clumsy fingers teased their way under scarred thighs and over her barely protruding chest, their unabashed exploration drawing a moan of unbidden dismay as she struggled ineffectually to escape. As though weighed down by the needle bruising speckling their length, her arms rose slowly against the heaving figure, muscles so badly numbed by the exhaustive high that she could barely summon her voice in protest. What little of her could resist screamed in tortured silence at the vile breath against her face and the press of ragged clothing against her exposure.

She never heard the door open, a drug induced miasma broken only the crushing weight of her uncaring partner. A warm spray hit her face, drenching her shivering body in slick sanguine as a sharp organic sound cut the rhythm mid thrust.


Scream caught in her dry throat, Kathrin rocketed back to consciousness and sat bolt upright in the quasi darkness. Breath stolen and vision swimming, blind terror was halted in its tracks mid flight as a sharp reminder blossomed from her ribs, protesting at the sudden movement. Slowly, panic drained from her tense muscles as stinging eyes revealed the attacker as nothing more than a phantom of amorphous.

At least she was awake proper, vaguely aware that her night of horror had been spaced by brief glances into consciousness while the anti-opiates played merry hell with every fibre of her being. Head still buzzing with the confusion adrenalin brought, the girl drew her knees in close and waited for the thunder of her heart to die away.

There were many peculiar things about the bedraggled youth, her distinct exotic features and frame somehow setting her apart from her ruinous surroundings. Tawny skin that had once been so perfect now bore old scars and freshly bandaged wounds, a temporal map of her time in the slums of Salem. Her lithe form was no longer the product of a healthy lifestyle, malnourishment and cheep narcotics doing more in the past months than a ridged exercise routine could have ever hoped. Twitching inconstantly from what was probably permanent nerve damage, she looked more like a rag doll held together by fraying string then the daughter of a foreign dignitary.

Yet despite her dreadful appearance, her relatively unmarked face bore the worst indications of suffering. Above a grimace etched into her lying lips, lifeless eyes stood testimony to the yearlong torture that had drained away their youthful glimmer. This was a child whose mind had tipped over the edge of sanity, finding another plateau of morbid sobriety beyond.

Still sat upon the grim mattress, Kathrin watched patterns emerge within disturbed clouds of dust. Dancing within columns of sickly light, the motes twinkled with the welcoming hues of approaching dusk, sliced thinly by the boards across the room’s only window. Adrenalin gradually seeping away and with a thumping headache racing to fill the gap, the girl turned her face from the glow and scrutinized her unexpected surroundings.

She… correction; They, were in what appeared to be an old studio flat, crumbling walls and decaying furniture telling all one needed to know about the average rent in this district. All signs of regular use had been long since removed, salvaged or stolen, leaving only that which was either nailed down or no one wanted. Doors, radiators, even the carpets had been pilfered. Though covered in debris from the disintegrating ceiling, the floor decidedly lacked any general detritus that built up with the passing of daily life. This led to a short lived train of thought regarding the nature of the mattress, given it was one of the only things to have been left behind. Such things were not best dwelt upon.

Partly concealed in the darkest corner of the room was the reason for her correction in tense. Though mostly hidden by the encroaching shadows, Kat still recognised her sister in law’s unnatural sleeping posture, perched rigidly on the springs of a rotted arm chair.

Mind still fuzzy from the twenty four hour withdrawal the ‘Fixer’ had induced, the previous few nights were a molten soup of events. There had been a lot of blood as the man had been pulled off of her, that much she certainly remembered. Even now that dreadful tearing sound remained vivid among the blur. Aside from this though, their escape from Dog Town was a mess of brief images, echoes and smells, mixed in with the hellish remnants of fevered nightmares. What was real and what was a dream? Perhaps the definition was best left unfulfilled? Let both phantom and memory fade as one entity, leaving not even a void of time in their place.

Breaking her stolid glare at the unnerving stillness, the girl screwed her eyes shut and tried to sort through the jumble of thoughts, only to be interrupted by a distant tune drifting in from the outside world. Slightly merry over the authoritarian bass, any city dweller recognised the jingle immediately as a ministry bulletin. Undoubtedly there was a holo-board nearby preparing the mandatory evening announcements.

Dragging herself up right, the gangly youth stretched her uncooperative legs and lurched towards the boarded window frame. Cautious of the broken glass, Kathrin gazed outside onto the roof top of the tapering building opposite their own, observing its plant filled brick work for signs of their true location. Yellowing smog curled about the old vents and aircon units, its vibrant colours telling of the strong radiation that permeated this oldest part of the city.

So, they were in Old Salem, quite a ways from Dog Town in terms of the unbroken cityscape. Though the other side of this wretched world wouldn’t be far enough for Kathrin. There were few buildings like this one left in the world, many of the mega-corps opting for modular Plasti-Crete units that were cheap to maintain and replace. Out here in the sticks though, where ruffians roamed over the corpse of society, some old masonry buildings still remained. Clearing them was far too expensive and reclamation of such outdated structures was completely impractical. So very human, to consider the past too ‘unprofitable’ to preserve.

Not too far away, the metallic lattice of a holo-board clung to the façade of a grey prefabricated building, frame only slightly tarnished by the harsh acidic smog. Held between the gently glowing rods, a thin mist played host to the slowly revolving symbol of ‘World Gov’, the corporation responsible for nine billion lives across the globe. As society had started to crumble under its own weight, the largest companies on earth had joined together in an effort to rescue humanity, building a viable future on what was effectively a dead planet.

Shuffling to get a better glimpse of the street below, her bare feet brushed against a small sack pack resting against the wall. From its folds played a gentle chime, a small blue light flickering behind the coarse weave. Turning her back to the boards, Kat rested her lagging weight against their worn surface and slid down until the floor met her rump. Careful not to disturb her ribs, the bruised girl lent across and dragged the cloth sack towards her. There wasn’t much in the way of supplies inside. A bundle of simple clothes (all several sizes too small for her), a small medical kit with screws poking out where it had been ripped from the wall and…

Kathrin’s hand struck out like a snake as she grabbed for the slim silver packet nestled at the bottom of the bag. Tearing furiously at the foil with her teeth, the mysterious packaging finally parted to reveal the flaky surface of a faux grain ‘nutribar’.

Salivating at the intense smell of the flavour enhancers, Kat tore a chunk from the fibrous treat and chewed like she’d not eaten in months. Oh gods it was her favourite too, ‘Almost Strawberry’.

“Gooood morning Americas!” whistled a tiny voice from the abandoned sacking, barely comprehendible through the soft fabric. “It’s shaping up to be a beautiful day in East Time-Zone four, with clear skies over Summerset Island and only a twelve percent chance of acid rain down in Punta Arenas.”

Briefly taking her eyes from her chewy meal, Kat’s hand dove once more into the recesses of the sacking, finally finding the slim black earpiece that represented the only common technology in the world. Holding the broken headset in place, the hungry girl turned her attention back to the flakes of chewy goodness. Between the food and the announcer’s chirpy disposition, the tension of waking finally began to drain from Kat’s knotted shoulders.

With so much of the world impoverished beyond measure, the ministry that ran the message boards were careful about the personalities they picked to represent the face of World Gov. Keeping up morale was second only to the omnipotent image the giant corporation portrayed. In the words of her mother, ‘Shobai to byobu wa magaranu to tatanu’, or ‘Business and folding screens must be crooked to stand’.

“Interesting bit of world news,” Continued the announcer, moving straight into world interest stories, “Despite fears over long term viability, the Africa division of World-Gov has today announced that it will continue its plans to build a new waste management and reprocessing centres, to support the recent population surge. This should create up to two thousand new work placements, bringing the total world employment level back to its record high of two point seven percent. In a few moments we’ll have the morning news and announcements from your local district, but first a word from the ministry of Information.”

Now here was something she hadn’t seen in a while either, or heard at least. As a memorable jingle played to divide up the two segments, Kat found herself wondering exactly what had happened since her unwilling employment.

It seemed difficult to comprehend, the stranger than fiction events that surrounded the necessity for such programming defying belief until witnessed firsthand.

Sore ribs drew a grunt from the girl as she struggled back up the wall to the windowsill. With a flicker as some engineer finally reconnected a loose cable, the holo-board across the rooftops blinked and displayed the dying moments of the introduction. In two story high letters, the words Dome Watch faded out to reveal a smartly dressed woman perched eagerly on a comfortable sofa. Behind her was a window looking out onto a placid ocean scene, the green tinted waters cut short of the horizon by a shimmering curve that rose into an all dominating wall of rippling energy. As the presenter’s lips began to move soundlessly, Kat brought the device back to her ear and hypnotically gazed at the distant screen.

“-latest on the Emergence.” Continued the presenter as Kathrin joined the untold millions of listeners. “Eighteen months since the dimension of Equestria first appeared in the Pacific Ocean, today itself marks the one year anniversary since World Gov officially recognised the emerging world as a foreign power and lent its support to the migration process. As if to lend weight to the importance of this decision, the Dome representing the barrier between our worlds today engulfed the last of Marco Island, the most westerly part of the American continent.”

“With me in the studio to talk about the steps World Gov is taking is doctor Ahmar Husain, director of the science team presently investigating the dome itself. Doctor, thank you for joining us.”

Upon the giant screen, the image had been gradually drawing outwards to encompass the rest of the studio seating area. Whist the stage played host to another long sofa for assorted guests, this was left only partly in shot. Instead the midpoint rested between the female presenter and a short curved ‘chair’ whose ergonomics clearly did not have humans in mind. Perched upon it was a short grey haired animal of an equine persuasion, its huge eyes and disturbingly human smile directed towards the host.

Horses had died out on earth some time ago, victims of the turbulent times just after the great collapse and finished off by the fallout from the glass war. Yet this one did not have the text book appearance of your average Windsor Grey stallion. Its features were all exaggerated, almost comically so. Stubby fore-hooves hung across the edge of the chair, leading the eye up to a plump barrel and muscular neck in a single flowing line, topped by a head that seemed slightly too large for the diminutive body supporting it. Behind the curve of its comfortable posture, a long tail flicked and danced in colours the most vivid blue, mirrored by the creature’s elegant mane. Stranger still were its eyes. Huge to the point of absurdity, the expressive orbs dominated most of the face and seemed to convey far more emotion then should be possible in a none-sapient animal.
Weird didn’t quite cover the peculiar apparition, representing a child’s interpretation of what a pony ‘was’ then an actual functional product of evolution.

And then, to the surprise of anyone who had been living under a rock the past year, the pony spoke.
“The pleasure’s all mine, Jennifer.”

Jennifer smiled and lined up her first questions as though this freakish miracle was a perfectly run of the mill encounter.
“Firstly let me pose the question that cannot be far from the minds of every anxious watcher out there; is there any sign that the Dome is slowing, perhaps hindered by the land mass it has just swallowed?”

“Well let me first correct your terminology there, Jen-”
The ‘doctor’ stumbled a moment, his large ears pressing back as his informality reached them.
“Ah, may I call you Jen?”

At the hostesses’ slight nod the creature’s over sized eyes seemed to light up with inner happiness, like a cat that had found the biggest ball of yarn ever.

“Is that a yes? Thank you! Ahmem, ahh anyway, let me start by pointing out that despite appearances, the event horizon is not in fact a Dome as such, rather an immense spheroid. Thusly we are certain that it has already consumed quite a large portion of the earth’s crust below the initial point of emergence. Though it is the first visible effect of the transitional barrier reaching dry land, one small island isn’t going to change matters much I’m afraid.” A tinge of sadness seemed to run through the doctor’s face as he ploughed on with the ‘preapproved’ spiel. “If there is to be any salvation from this collision of realities, it lays in understanding the phenomenon and its mechanisms, not in blocking its advance.”

Static once again overwhelming the distant image, Kathrin gave up on the visual part of the broadcast, walking back to the filthy mattress and slumping down into the sheets. Drawing the musty linen around her, the tawny youngster chewed in silence listening to the conversation in her right ear.

“- you yourself are prepared for the proposed migration. How long have you been a unicorn, if you don’t mind me asking, Doctor?” Continued hostess Jenifer in her ever insistent yet oddly calming tone.

“Oh please, call me Amar.” Insisted the doctor, sounding as though he were trying to reassure himself more than the untold millions whose eyes were upon him. “Actually I was among the final test group before the R24 serum was officially put into production. You see, the Thaumic radiation the barrier emits is potentially lethal to humans. And if we are to have a hope of finding a way to avert this catastrophe, examining the ‘transient wall’ at close quarters is absolutely essential. Along with several other colleagues of mine, we volunteered to receive the treatment and have been studying the Equestrian barrier ever since.”

“I see,” Jen replied, ladling on the ‘generic surprise’, “It is true then, that you are still looking for a way to halt or reverse the event? Given that World Gov has already sanctioned the evacuation, what could you hope to achieve.”

“I can assure you that we are exploring every possibility Jen, it-it’s a simple matter of priorities.” Amar said, tripping over his words as though they were being forced from his lips. “For us in the scientific community, the goal is securing a way to safely halt the expansion of the ‘transient wall’. But when a boat starts to sink at sea, the captain’s first duty is to see to the safety of his passengers and crew. Even if his engineers still have time to fix the leak, better that the women and children are out in the life boats then still on board. That’s what Equestria is, a life boat.”

“Well that throws a whole new perspective on the conversion debate. Now, I believe your team have predicted that the wall itself will more likely make landfall within the month, but that it will still be several years before a planet wide emergency will be declared. Would you say that until that time emigration is still just a choice for the individual? Much like a change of dwelling or wet-ware mods?”

“Well.. yes of course it is but-” the doctor responded, voice tinged with an edge of desperation, “But… Just thinking about those poor souls who refused to leave Marco… There are nine billion people on this planet Jen, and if we can’t stop this, I’d hate to think everyone will just stand around waiting on us until it was too late. But that’s exactly what everyone is doing-”

Kathrin could almost hear the elegant eyebrows raise upon Jen’s sculpted features. Clearly things were not going according to script. “Ah, well it sounds like you have quite the task on your ha-”

“No!” blurted her guest, clearly becoming more upset by the moment. “I can’t lie to everyone like this. Its.. it’s just wron-”

A sharp pop over the transmission hinted at the sudden drop of the doctor’s microphone feed. As the panicked voice became a distant muffled rambling, the presenter barely missed a beat as she turned her attention back to the camera and the audience at large.

“Well our time is up I’m afraid. Thank you for that enlightening plea, Doctor. We now join the local newscast in your-.”

Kat flicked the headset and sent it cart wheeling across the dusty floorboards. She stared at the device for some time, listening to the quiet buzz of voices still resonating from its speaker.

“Sarah, I’ve decided where I’m going.” She announced, loud enough to disturb her sleeping company. “Festoon has a Bureau. I’m going to get converted.”

Startling green eyes flicked open within the deeper shadows, the only indication that the figure was once again among the waking world. Instinctually the jade orbs assessed the dank apartment, before swivelling to look at the skinny girl from whom the interruption had originated.

“Probably should have gone sooner,” Mumbled Kathrin, carefully twisting into a more comfortable posture. “Hindsight is a terrible thing.”

From her vantage a few inches above the rickety floor, the girl turned to look at her as yet silent observer.

Apparently, humans make eleven critical assumptions within the first seven seconds of meeting one another. What did this quasi-human form suggest in those precious moments of irretrievable judgement?

Bald and androgynous, the thing sat stiffly in a coverless armchair. Little of its actual body could be seen, covered as it was by a grubby barber coat, stitched together between patches of chitin armormesh. Heavily worn jeans clung to a nearly none-existent waist line, their thread bare material picking out the contours of stick thin legs and misshapen knees. Though hidden from view by the tightly buttoned top, Kat knew that the corded belt was likely tightened across the top of exposed hip bones, exaggerating a lack of gut that would have made some stranger aspects of the fashion world blush. Topping it all, a scarf of questionable leather had been bound tightly around its neck, completed the impression off a student’s laundry basket having been dumped on an old biology skeleton.

That which was exposed to the air appeared female only in the pejorative sense, serving as an unpleasant window into the uncanny valley. Everything about the face was subtly wrong. Devoid of hair and coated with smooth bleach white skin, the earless head seemed slightly too small for the eyes that stared unblinkingly from cavernous sockets. Nothing moved save those piercing jade orbs, completing the appearance of an emaciated doll.

Familiarity saved the girls stomach from turning out the pilfered rations as she patiently waited for the expected protest, meeting the unbroken gaze with a twitching smile. When it finally did speak, the voice arrived as a kind of metallic resonation, like a child shouting down a long metal tube.

“Spoken this before Kathrin.”

“Gona’ have to eventually. You’ve seen the big screens playing those vids from the ministry of information. People are rushing into this ‘conversion’ stuff like it’s double ration Tuesday.” Kat admitted weakly, staring unblinking through thin gaps between floor boards, the ancient wood work thrumming slightly with the distant passing of vehicles in the street below. “Now seems as good a time as any to get the heck out of dodge”

Once again the hushed raspy voice issued from the depths of the barber clad doll, her jaw unmoving as mechanical words strung themselves into unpunctuated verse.

“Migration unacceptable.”

“Why not?” Kat slighted, shivering as an edge of uncontainable bitterness entered her voice, “I’ve seen what it does, but now it’s on the hollocrons every day. ‘Leave everything behind and come to Equestria!’”

There was a longer pause this time, filled with the distant sounds of engines in the street below. Strange, she didn’t think there would be much traffic around such a rundown district. But now world weariness had smothered her paranoia. She had only just woken from an entire day of fitful slumber, yet exhaustion slowed her senses to a crawl. Feeling herself slipping towards the realms of Morpheus once more, Kat watched silently as the doll woman rose from its seat and crossed over to the boarded window. There was a raised voice filtering through from the outside world, perhaps directed at some miscreant in the lower floors of the building.

“... I’m tired Sarah, maybe it’d be better if I get rubbed out and let something more worthy take a stab at–Ooomph!”

Kathrin winced as the bag hit her prone body, sending a violent wave of pain through her injuries and drawing her back from the brink of slumber.

“We leave. Follow.” Spoke the ‘Sarah’ plainly, shouldering the door to the bathroom off its rusted hinges in once quick shove.

“Chikuso! I didn’t mean now!” Kat cursed as she nursed her sore ribs.

“Position compromised.”

That got her attention. Falling silent for a moment, the distant sound of splintering wood finally reached her ringing ears. Who was breaking in didn’t matter, not around here. If they didn’t knock, then they weren’t exactly going to be friendly either way. Perhaps it was a looting gang, searching for scraps to reuse or sell? That wouldn’t be too bad, so long as there wasn’t a stake here to be claimed.

From the floor below came the crash of frail doors being kicked aside, coupled with shouts of belayed coordination. Oh fuck, they weren’t looking for something, they were looking for someone!
Shrinking down against the peeling wallpaper, Kathrin covered her ears hoping to block out the advance of their pursuers. Dog Town’s idea of ‘law’ was catching up to her; it didn’t do to have indebted labour running out and leaving trails of bodies.

Resisting the urge to curl up into a foetal ball, Kat crawled hastily from the mattress and swept up the tattered bag that now lay to one side. With barely a moment to breathe, a vice like grip wrapped around her stick thin arm, guiding her towards the unhinged door to the en-suite.

“Wait.” Instructed the Doll, releasing its hold and stepping into the small room.

While the crack of boards being stealthily displaced filled the cramped apartment, the rending of rotten wood was lost among a pounding of footfalls ascending the unstable staircase.

Suddenly the rabble gave way to a loud snap of stressed timber and cacophony of collapsing masonry. Yells of surprise and screams of terror filled the remaining space as the thunder descended to the lower floors with a distant crunch. Even Sarah had paused in forging their escape to listen to the eerie silence beyond the corridor. Finally muffled groans and murmured complaints wound their way through the thin walls, at last shattered by the shout of some wrathful god.

“Some bastard cut through the supports!” Yelled the voice, its tone carrying the fury that often followed absolute authority, “You lot go back an’ come up the other way. They’re up here somewhere lads, FIND HER!”

Suddenly the apartment was filled with the splintering of chipboard, her own firm hand across her mouth the only thing preventing the youngster from screaming as the brittle door was taken clean off its runners by a heavy body. Falling on top of the failed portal, curses foul enough to curdle milk rebounded around the room as the figure of a large dark skinned man struggled to detach himself from the floor. Groaning, his deep set eyes focussed on the slip girl now scrabbling backwards into the bathroom. He was looking straight at her! There was no way he couldn’t have…

A bony hand grasped her stretched collar, dragging the panicked girl to her feet and towards the freshly knocked out window frame.

Beyond the corridor there were cries from the other vigilantes as each room was opened and found bare.

“Jessop! We heard something in here!” someone called through the decisively open doorway, stopping at the foot of the flat out thug “The fuck are you doing down there, man?”

Pausing slightly as the girl vanished from sight, the hulking man got slowly to his feet and turned back out to the corridor.

“Nutting, Sir. Just a rat.”

From the terminally opened doorway, hungry eyes swept the empty room, finding nothing to sate an appetite for vengeance but an old mattress and crumbled furniture.

“Well get your ass up.” Grunted the figure, “Next floor people!”

Undeterred in his search, the red faced man turned and ran back towards the stairwell, the sound of tortured metal breaking free from ancient plaster following close behind. For his part, Jessop waited until his colleagues were out of sight before stalking towards the bathroom. Bits of recently smashed planks lay across its lino floor, the empty window frame neatly framing two retreating figures disappearing across the misty rooftops of Salem.