What is there left to save, when you are more machine then human?
A Conversion Bureau story.
Prologue
----------------------------REM INITIALIZING--------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------MEDULLA SUSPENSION-------------------------TRUE----------- -----------SUB-COTEX LINK---------------------------------TRUE----------- -----------FRONTAL CORTEX ISOLATION----------------TRUE----------- ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ---------------------STABLE REM STATE AQUIRED-----------------------
Recalling Logged Event////Emulation 16-5
Simulation begins. ‘Darkness, broken by cracks of sickly light. So cold, so close, embraced by concrete.’
Self assessment.
Damage minimal. Tightness coupled with immobility.
Armour compressed across chest and legs, cutting into unconverted flesh.
Risk of further damage- Amber.
Examining surroundings.
Hands detect rough surface texture to surrounding material.
Resistance and particulate dust indicates post industrial masonry;
red-clay brick of local origin with a thirty percent average density.
Estimate one point five metres of rouble covering unit.
‘Plenty of reserves. No need for air.’
Impact detected, distance of approximately thirty meters.
Likely artillery fire upon last known position.
Gunfire at distance, count three sources, allied Squadron still within area.
Note, impact resonance has compromised the stability of surrounding debris. Exploiting new configuration.
Hands push forwards at forty-five degrees, driving rubble aside and opening suitable egress. Freedom through force secured, moving to exit entrapment.
‘Daylight strikes the face, desert breeze drawing the scent of smouldering plastics and cordite.’
New surroundings above ground, large rouble pile amidst partly destroyed edifice. Hostile Infra-red signature recognised; visual confirmation of AT cannon protruding from debris.
Correlating…
Verified as Automated Anti-Personal patrol turret, buried beneath four point two metres of wreckage.
EM signature shows negative, target was successfully neutralised.
‘Even as a corpse the machine looms, though no more alive than the mortar now covering its hulk.'
Tracking signal indicates within seven cubic metres of present location.
LR14 carbine Spotted among fresh debris. Moving to reclaim.
‘Unthinking yet somehow aware, it leans against a large fallen cornice, as though waiting for us.’
Present area still not recognised by survey maps.
Attempting reboot of onboard Satellite communication system.
Examining surroundings.
Structure confirmed as warehouse, conforming to standards of map sector AG seventeen,
Factory and processing district.
Interior contains industrial textile equipment,
Seven rows of sewing machines and fabric receptacles.
Body count seventeen.
Small stature, most located at work desks, suggests remnants of labour force.
Desiccation indicates several months since time of death, likely cause of death... Radiation poisoning.
‘So tiny and weak, their inner worlds swept away by the atomic ash.’
Façade of building entirely destroyed, opening directly onto connective byway.
Check ammo.
Eighty seven rounds remaining. Check armour.
Chest section susstained light damage, significant gap over upper left abdomen.
Fluidic loss is Negligible.
Standing orders are to continue sterilising sweep of factory district surrounding Rad-Co facility. Priorities include elimination of air defence units and clearing Rad-Co facility for equipment drop.
Sat-com reinitialised,
Augmented Reality HUD established.
Matching orbital map to surrounding contours and pinging for Allied units.
Allied units responding, adding to AR enhanced visuals.
'So many Lights. Green silhouettes move through the virtual plane, shadowed by their call signs.'
Twelve units accounted for, partner unit callsign within fifteen metres. Street is deserted, visibility eighteen meters in dense smog and dust particles.
Partner unit should be within visual range..?
Unit located at edge of debris field and identified as ‘Theta-Four’. Unit has been heavily damaged by direct fire from anti-armour weaponry.
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.
They had barely made it half a block before fatigue had overruled Kathrin's initial surge of adrenalin, robbing the injured girl’s legs of strength. Most of the journey since that collapse had been a jarring blur, clinging to Sarah’s emaciated back as the tras-human kept an exhaustive pace though the mute city.
Whilst they had long since shaken their pursuers, the unusual pair remained wary of well travelled byways after their narrow escape. Instead the Doll woman had followed the distinctive red warning signs around the walled off warehouse district, carrying her charge through deserted trash filled streets. Only a few residents still remained in this alcove of the living city, an occasional curtain smothered light flagging the abode of someone too stubborn or foolish to heed the evacuation order.
An oppressive sting of ozone lingered in the air, coupled with an ever present prickling sensation that gnawed at the senses. All of this belied an area saturated with Thaumic radiation. Now and then, between thin gaps in the hastily erected barriers, she would catch a glimpse of the strange world beyond. Iridescent colours danced even in the failing daylight, casting bright halos around every object in the abandoned streets. Metre long cracks spread out across the once flawless tarmac roads, torn asunder by the thick roots of plants long thought extinct, now racing one another towards the contested airspace.
Eventually their unceasing progress had hit a snag. Without reliable street lights to guide their way, the tepid shadows of night were threatening to steal the path from under them. Sarah continued for as long as she could, but eventually things became too dangerous to risk its precious cargo. Abandoning the graffiti covered barriers that had been their guide thus far, Sarah strode across an empty parking lot towards a long flat roofed edifice that stuck out in what remained of the skyline. An old fire escape clung to its ageing walls, rising out of the ally as a beacon of respite picked out in sharp edged shadows. Steadily, testing each firm rung and iron step as though it would crumble beneath their tread, the companions ascended into the brief sanctuary the isolated rooftop would bring.
With little ceremony, Kat’s folded onto her knees and clutched an arm to her sore chest, rubbing the ribs battered once again by their foray across the urban wilderness.
“You know, it might just be me,” She wheezed, gingerly laying down the pebble strewn surface, “but I’m sure your back didn’t used to be that lumpy. Gods my chest.”
Remaining mute as she finished appraising their temporary lodgings, Sarah marched up to where Kathrin had collapsed and knelt down. “Inspect damage.”
Mentally applying the missing question mark, Kat lay back and grudgingly raising her tattered shirt, thankful at least for the even surface.
A touch colder than a doctor’s stethoscope carefully traced the course of the girl’s suffering chest, never pressing too hard as they explored the extent of her injury. For her part Kathrin tried not to flinch or retreat from the icy probing, though something else caught her attention long enough to dispel the unpleasant memories. Reaching down, the girl dabbed at a spot Sarah had passed over, feeling a slimy residue that stuck to the tips of her fingers.
Finished with her inspection, the doll lent away and delivered her verdict. “Single fracture. Sub dermal bruising.”
Kathrin’s hand shot out and grabbed the woman’s thin wrist before she could move away, the same slick ooze coating the skin beneath her week grasp. “Eww. So much for self repairing. Hold on, stay right where you are.”
Rolling onto her side, Kat leaned over to where the cloth backpack lay in waiting and tugged it towards her. Practically blind in the darkness, she dumped out its contents and rummaged around until her questing hand closed around a palm sized oblong, lifting it clear of the entangling clothes. Awakened by her touch the cracked screen flickered into life, casting glistening shadows across Sarah’s open wounds. With a gentle tap the brightness increased, catching the edge of glass shards still embedded in the doll woman’s hands.
Though their flight had been uneventful, Sarah’s chosen escape route had required hastily breaking the bathroom window. Whilst she had torn out most of the larger shards, several were imbedded too deeply beneath slowly healing plastic skin. For any normal human this would have been immobilising painful, requiring a Clinic or street doctor to suture and disinfecting the wounds. From the look of Sarah’s hands though, the digits elongated and palm shrunken where the flesh had begun to retreat, it was clear this was no ‘normal’ human. Every twitch of hidden sinews caused the fragments to move within their jelly cocoons, clear biological fluid oozing from their edges and preventing the faux skin from sealing the breach.
“I suppose you weren’t going to bother fixing that?” she asked lightly, raising an unseen eyebrow at her mechanical companion.
“Unnecessary.” Replied the tinny speaker, her face oddly placid in the eerie glow. “Self repair.”
Idly laying setting down the featureless phone as a dim lantern, Kathrin rolled over and slid up to her knees facing the still frozen manikin. A brief dip into the sack brought forth another silvery packet of false oats, one the hungry youth quickly opened and bit into. Swallowing the first bite immediately, she packed a second into her cheek before turning back to her companion.
“Give me your knife.” Chewed the girl, hardly blinking as a battered kitchen utensil suddenly materialised from god only knows where.
Tarnished as it was, the edge had been lovingly honed to perfection and would have likely sunk through a table under its own weight. But (and this was an important definition) it was not a weapon. Limited as her emotional range was, Sarah would not have allowed such a label upon what was clearly a thing of utility. After all, get close enough to use a knife and you had done something wrong.
Furrowing her brow in concentration, Kat carefully guided the sharp metal along the plastic like coating that was trying to grow over the protruding splinter. Cutting the faux flesh wasn’t the problem; it was avoiding any healthy skin on either side that posed the challenge, especially when your hands trembled from malnutrition. Hooking it with the knife edge, the teen carefully worked the intrusive shard loose until it could be gripped with forefinger and thumb. Jauntily tossing aside the offending object, her focus turned to the creeping edges of the pallid flesh, a rosy tint to its edges belying the sinews of real muscle just below the surface. A deeper cut unveiled the meaty strata running close to jet black bones, ripe for cultivating.
Chewing for a moment in thoughtful calculation, Kat waited for the clear gel ooze to seep from the split’s edges before reaching into her mouth for a chunk of nano-bar. With an air of workman’s pride, she thumbed the reconstituted foodstuff into the fresh lesion and pressed down hard.
Satisfied, she straightened the crick in her neck before turning her attention to the next splinter, choosing to ignore a telltale glint of movement in her peripheral vision. This close to her companion, the younger could see the green eyes twitching and blinking as they navigated some crude internal menu.
Given that, with such a longwinded method of communication, Sarah rarely said anything unless it was necessary, Kat would have normally waited attentively if it looked like her mute partner was about to speak. Today however, she didn’t feel like debating her decision with someone who had all the charisma of a half brick and even less tact.
“You are troubled Do you want to talk about it.” Crackled the artificial voice, emanating from beneath the barber coat. “I am here and am very good at listening.”
Pulling rather harder than necessary, Kat discarded the last of the bloody shards and set to work removing the dead flesh from the glistening arm. “No, my mind’s made up. I’m going and that’s final.”
Again the eyes flickered in the pallid light, though the girl paid it little attention, busying herself with tearing the stolen clothing into long strips while Sarah’s next sentence assembled itself. True, her sister couldn’t get infections, but the protean rich food bar would be rejected unless held closely to the wound.
“Not what I meant.” Sarah replied at last, watching with indifference as her charge bound up the wounded limbs in a thin layer of cloth. “Kathrin what you have been through is terrible and I am sorry I couldn’t find you sooner. I know it must hurt but you are safe now.”
For a while the troubled youth simply stared at the automaton, the statement weighted with false compassion of the kind lifted straight from a poorly written drama.
“That was awfully quick, Sis.” Chimed the youth, narrowing her bitter smile at the hollow emotionless words, “Do I smell a pre-prepared response? No, wait that would require you to know the subject matter, right? A Quote then.”
‘You want me to think you care?’ She continued in the privacy of her own head. ‘The only reason you’re even asking me at all is to find out whether I’m going to slow us down.’
Aloud she sighed and queried; “Source?”, speaking the command as though the demi-human before her were a drink’s dispenser.
There was a brief pause while the eyes flitted through their menu and constructed a reference. “Q.Kostof, Retrospective; A Councillor’s Journey’, second edition, oxford university press, published twenty thirteen…”
“Did it mention anything in there about ‘knowing when not to speak?”
“Page one twenty two.” Replied the metallic voice, loyally.
Clenching her fists for a moment, Kat felt a little surge of indignation rise in her breast before being swallowed by the icy numbness that pressed against the back of her eyes. Still averting her gaze from the android, she shifted around and sat back on her knees.
“Okay, you want to talk? Fine, let’s talk then. How about numbers? Let’s talk about the number forty seven. Forty Seven days to be exact, I worked it out from the date on the announcement board.”
practically chin to chest with Sarah’s looming figure, Kat glared up at the unchanging expression. “Two months ago, you wandered in to that place I’d been sold too and took a seat in the back. Were you there to watch the ‘performance’, or just to socialize?”
Nothing. Silence was the machine’s only response to a question that had made the young girl’s life a living hell. To be shown salvation only for rescue never to materialise, she had simply broken.
Slowly, like a bronze statue unfolding from its plinth, the woman stood and turned her gaze towards the edge of the roof top. Neon signs rose above its crest, long darkened and providing ample cover to watch the street below.
“Four oh four on that one, eh?” Grimaced the shaking youngster as her guard stalked towards a choice vantage point.
She hadn’t expected an answer beyond ‘tactical advantage’, but the machine’s reluctance to so much as comment made her chest burn with a squall of emotions. At its heart was an icy void, forged by guilt and the sure knowledge that her own suffering was somehow insignificant.
Crawling towards an old ventilation shaft, Kathrin dragged the thin clothes into a rough pillow and slumped down against the cold floor. Already exhaustion had trooped in and was demanding payment with menaces, her eyes lids growing heavy as the cooling night air embraced her frail form. One last glance towards the hazy shadows let her pick out the slight glow from Sarah’s jade eyes as the bodyguard scanned the darkness for signs of danger.
“The sooner I’m away from you the better.”
--
Come the light of morning, Kathrin awoke stiff and uncomfortable under a grey featureless sky, a thumping headache pulsing in time with her heartbeat. Though the unbroken cloud cover served to trap the heat of the day, it must have still been a bitter night out in the open. Despite her aversion to the mechanical bodyguard, she seemed to have gained the android’s coat during her blessedly dreamless sleep…
No, not entirely dreamless.
Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she recalled the barest phantom of the nightmares that had chased her into the waking world. There had been the moment when the shadows of the rooftop had been filled with attackers and leering onlookers before the scream had fled her lips, ignorant to the very real danger this could bring. She recalled the grip, arms like iron bonds rapping around and restraining her, fuelling the hallucinations that taunted and jeered and touched and – and then she had woken up here. That horror filled world had slipped away suddenly into a black void.
The back of her head throbbed with the bruise that had risen overnight. Now that she came to think about it, she was laying quite a ways from the steel vent where she had bedded down the night before, her limbs tucked under one another in a manner akin to the recovery position. Rubbing the swelling on the back of her head, the groggy girl realised the stiffness in her neck was not due to her awkward posture.
Even after tending its wounds, the clockwork soldier still treated her like an object, just another machine that could be switched off with a swift blow. Away from her previous captors, she was still a prisoner. Perhaps it would have been more poetic if Sarah had kept the unconscious girl cuddled up to her skeletal form, like they were acting out some cliché hollovid. Truly though, the harsh pebble dash ground was softer, not to mention that her young charge was already livid enough as it was.
Shoving aside the heavy coat, Kathrin scanned the rooftop for her companion and cracked a wild smile as she sighted the figure stood at opposite end of the rooftop. She could do it. Cut the leash and run.
To the untrained eye the machine appeared totally unawares, focused entirely on a distant trail of dust rising from between the tall buildings of downtown. It was thus a complete shock to Kathrin when Sarah’s arm swung around through some very unnatural angles and deftly caught the heavy rebar mid swing. Stunned, the young assailant was lifted slightly off her feet as she refused to relinquish her weapon of opportunity to the iron bound grip. As though mounted on a turn table, the bald head turned slowly around to set an accusing gaze upon the foolhardy girl.
“Awake.” Observed the grinding voice, its owner tossing the cudgel aside.
Kathrin rallied magnificently with a pouty scowl, her first truly negative expression in days.
“You. Knocked. Me. Out.” She said plainly, making sure to annunciate each word as its own little sentence.
Unmoved, the woman turned back to the grey cityscape. “Risk of discovery high. Action taken.”
“And that’s another thing." Kat sighed, rubbing the throbbing lump on the back of her neck "First open medical terminal we come across, get your voice fixed. Bad enough that you look like a wax manikin without sounding like a kitchen utensil.”
Without so much as glancing at her cybernetic ‘sibling’, Kat carefully stood up and walked to the edge of the rooftop, observing the neat rooftops marking the edge of an abandoned high street. They must have made some serious tracks the night before, for the old gambling hall upon which they had taken roost stood barely a stone’s throw from the banks of the river. Following its course with a careful turn of the head, Kathrin saw that their vantage neatly capped off the old shopping district, its street side entrance standing between the open air mall and the dockyards that had once been the heart of city life.
Poking above the heavy morning mist, she could just make out the cargo cranes through the yellow haze. That was something else too; the colours here were far brighter than the rest of the otherwise grey cityscape. Old brick buildings had a definite ‘redness’ about their walls, rusted lampposts had a brown gloss to their mottled surface and the smog had a vividly poisonous tint.
During the progressive emergence of the Equestrian universe, ambient energy that radiated from the boundary of the two worlds swirled in unpredictable storms across the globe. Salem had been one of the first cities to experience hotspots of lethal Thaumic radiation.
Had the youngster been familiar with the history of the once infamous town, she would have appreciated the irony. As it was, the only thing that concerned Kat was avoiding any places where the colours of the world became so bright that they melted away anything foreign to Equestria, human flesh included. Thalamic radiation was present throughout the whole city to some degree, but the true hotspots meandered unseen through the streets, generally giving the unwary a few seconds notice before their skin began to blister and burn.
Squinting back along the rows of boarded up shops, Kat’s eyes narrowed at the distant riverbank. Something large was moving up the road, sending up a ripple through the smog before it.
“What are you watching anyway?” She asked aloud, not taking her eyes from the disturbance.
“Convoy.” Replied the still figure beside her, its next sentence rattled off as though dumping a text file through the rough speaker. “Civilian transport vehicles. Slow moving. Wide course indicates evading detection. Likely threat minimal.”
“A convoy?” parroted the youth with a hint of confusion. This close to the towering walls of Massituset, the first mega city to be constructed in America, people rarely deviated the public freeways if they needed to travel. A convoy this deep within the old city was unusual to say the least. BlackMesh securities had a hands-off policy to any area outside of their contacted patrol zones, making abandoned suburbs like the one’s boarding Salem a bloody nightmare for your average Lawful citizen.
Foul mood suddenly abandoned, Kathrin squinted against the languid morning light and sought any disturbance in the skyline. For a moment she thought there was a thin heat haze rising above some of the buildings, rippling the chilly morning smog a few streets away.
“Wonder if they’re looking for me too?” She muttered, absentmindedly rubbing her sore neck again, “They’ve got to have come through Dog’s Town. Gods they could even be from the place, it’s big enough.”
“Negative.” Sarah’s rusty voice resonated, “Tracking river. Seeking dockyard access to public interstate road.”
Raising an eyebrow conspiratorially, Kathrin turned back to the scattered clothes she been sleeping upon and began packing away. “Well then, there’s our ticket out of the city. If they’re following the river they should drive right past us”
With a last glance around the empty roof space, the scrawny youngster slung the pack and strode towards the awaiting fire escape, followed closely by the oddly mute Sarah.
Even under this sickly light it was clear to see just how dangerous their assent up the rough scaffold had actually been. Though built to outlast the building it was attached too, the frame of the rusty tower was gradually peeling away from a breezeblock wall that hadn’t seen maintenance in over forty years. Heck, the last time this area of town drew a decent crowd was probably when the mobs had raided its glass fronted shops during the austerity war.
By the time they had reached the ground and set out back across the abandoned parking lot, the almost none existent thrum of hybrid vehicles was playing a merry rhythm on Kat’s aching skull. Practically collapsing onto the heap of debris that blocked the parking entrance, Kathrin took a moment to gather herself before peaking around the edge of her cover. Emerging from the thickening smog was a slow preseason of trucks and salvage covered busses, led by a solitary figure some fifty paces in front.
“Okay,” she whispered, rummaging around in the rucksack and withdrawing a crime against fashion, “Put this on. Let me do the talking and try not to look so… scary.”
Taking the abomination, Sarah remained silent as her charge ascended the rubble heap and sat waiting to be noticed. If someone were observing from afar the actions of this half-human, they would have assumed her utterly incompetent as a bodyguard. They were being approached by an unknown contact, yet not once had the supposed protector sought to defend her vulnerable charge from this blatant danger.
Perhapse their heated interaction over the last hour had left her addled, genuinely upset over her sister’s open rejection? Yet this could not be the case. With implants limiting her emotional range, the doll-woman felt little more than voids labelled with the socially correct response. Useful for following orders without question, but utterly useless for any real human empathy.
What was bothering her was far more physical. Visibility was failing rapidly, the damp morning mists so thick as to hide the opposite side of the street from view. Something wasn’t quite right with her biological system too. What little remained of her original unscarred skin was tingling, itching like a dermal disease had managed to evade the billions of nanites constantly repairing her body.
Had she still been human (and willing to tempt fate) Sarah might have openly said ‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this’.
As it was, she cycled her radiation scrubbers and joined Kathrin just as the convoy leader braught his rifle to bear.