The Last Human IV - 62 - Unbroken

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Agraneia couldn’t stop shivering. The ceiling spun, and the floor felt like it was rolling on an arctic ocean current. She tried to steady the motion, tried to hold herself upright, but her muscles gave out. She tried to grab ahold of the chair, but her liquid metal hand was still numb and she couldn’t feel the fingers on her mortal hand. So cold.

And a voice poured like warm honey into her ears, “Easy there, Ags. Just stay with me another moment.” 

Feathered hands—real hands—hooked under her arms and the corvani crowed with the effort of hefting her up until she was face to face with a corvani. Icy cold filled her mind, slowing her thoughts. How can the dead be this strong?

An insect, or something like it, bit into her chest. Then, another—sharper than the first. She tried to swat it away, but her arms refused to lift. She grit her teeth, and tried again. She had to fight. She had to, if she wanted to live. 

“Easy,” the dead corvani said again. 

Then, a stiff warmth crawled into her veins. It started where the insect bit her, and oozed into her heart. Suddenly, her muscles tightened. Her eyes shot open. Two nanite syringes jutted from her chest. The last drops of that silvery liquid drained into her body. 

Gingerly, a black-feathered hand plucked them out of her body. Agraneia realized she was no longer bound to that chair. Instead, she was propped up, half laying and half sitting in her dead friend’s lap. Eolh looked down at her with a smile tugging at the corner of his blue-black beak.  How does someone eat with a beak that big? She found herself wondering. Ridiculous.

Then, the ice that clouded her thoughts cracked. “Eolh?” She sat up. Too fast. Her stomach clenched. She leaned over and started to vomit. 

“Easy, I said,” Eolh patted her back with his mortal hand. “That nanite’s good, but it’s no miracle. Give it time to work.”

The dead corvani was very much alive. “How?” Agraneia rasped. Thankfully, the nanite was starting to numb her raw throat.

“Found it in the Sovereign’s head-thing. Reckon the damned machine used it to keep you alive.”

“No,” Agraneia grunted, “How are you here?” 

“You asked for help,” Eolh said. “Poire heard.” 

“The godling?”

“Know anyone else named Poire?” 

Agraneia propped herself up on her stiff metal arm, and stared at him. Just stared. If he was a dream, he was more real than any dream she’d ever had. His dark eyes glistened in the dim gray light. His fingers gripped her wrist and shoulder, holding her up. The individual barbs of his feathers stirred in the artificial breeze from the air vents.

“Impossible…” 

“I thought the same thing. One moment, I was watching the Scar unfold across the sky. Could feel it pulling me—gah!” 

Whatever he was going to say was choked off, as Agraneia threw her arms around him and clasped her hands together and squeezed as tight as she could.

“Ags,” he gasped, even as embraced her back. “Easy on the ribs.”

She eased a little, but didn’t let go. His feathers were so soft. His muscles, as wiry as ever. She could even feel the warmth of his body through her liquid hand.

“Seems like the nanite is working,” Eolh said. 

Perhaps it was the nanite, or the days (or weeks?) of torture, or something else, but she thought she could see a faint glow blurring around the corvani. It outlined his feathers. His head. Even his clothes.

“What the hells are you wearing?” Agraneia asked.

Eolh looked down at his shirt, as if seeing it for the first time. Thousands of mirror-like tiles, as small as fingernails, clacked and clinked as he held it out. “No idea,” Eolh laughed. “I think the Fledge made it?” 

Agraneia pinched the tiles between her fingers. It moved like the highest quality chainmail, but she couldn’t see how the tiles were linked together. 

A distant boom shook the floor. It rattle the metal debris, and vibrated up through the walls. Then, another boom, this one close enough that Agraneia could feel it buzzing in her teeth.

“Come on,” Eolh said, unfolding himself from her, and helping her stand on shaky legs. “Time to go.”

Agraneia started to rise when her foot kicked a familiar hunk of ruined metal. Dull gray light shone from inside. The memory of Laykis, being torn apart by the Sovereign, rushed back and sapped the strength from the cyran’s legs. Agraneia fell to her knees. “Oh, gods,” she growled. “I’m sorry.” 

One of the Sovereign’s arms had fallen and crushed Laykis’s skull. The scarred mask of her face was intact, but the back of her head was crumpled inward. Hot tears slid down Agraneia’s cheeks as she cradled the android’s head. 

“Ags,” Eolh crowed her over. He stooped over the android’s body, and using the hand that the android had given him so long ago, Eolh popped open her chest chassis. The gray light brightened, casting dramatic shadows across Eolh’s blue-black beak.

“What is that?”

“Didn’t they teach you mechanical anatomy in the Academy?”

Agraneia sniffed and wiped her face with one arm. “What are you talking about?”

With his metal hand, Eolh ripped open Laykis’s chest armor. He plucked something from her ribs. A smooth, glowing oval that fit heavily in his palm. A construct’s core. It was almost translucent, like glass filled with something like smoke, except the core was cracked and gray mist leaked out, shimmering in the air.

Agraneia scrambled over to the android, and almost without thinking, she reached for it, intending to cover the crack with her liquid metal hand. When she touched it, she heard a voice.

“Is that you, Agraneia?”

Tears stung her eyes again, but she blinked them back. “Yes. It’s me.” 

“Are you well? I was very worried about you.”

For a moment, Agraneia couldn’t answer, she was so choked up. Laykis had been through the hells. Her body was broken, her core was fading, and yet Laykis was worried about her?

“I’m sorry, Laykis. It’s all my fault.”

“I couldn’t be more proud of how you performed. The Sovereign has had thousands of years to perfect its craft, yet when it tried to break you, you endured. Just like me. I knew I was right to call you sister.”

“What is it?” Eolh asked. “What is she saying?”

“Who else is there?”

“Eolh is with me,” Agraneia answered, though she had no idea how to explain it.

“Of course,” Laykis said, as if Eolh’s resurrection was the most natural thing in the world. “Vul, the Guardian who is with him until the very end. I should have known. And where is the key?” 

“Khadam?”

“Yes. She is everything, now.”

“I…” Agraneia’s stomach sank. After every torturous hour, after all these miracles, they were no closer to finding the Maker Divine. She glanced at Eolh. “Do you know where Khadam is?”

Eolh shook his head. But Laykis answered at the same time, “Yarsi knew.”

“Yarsi isn’t here.”

“Her memory is. I kept it safe.”

There was a tug on Agraneia’s thoughts. It came from Laykis’s core. “Open your mind,” Laykis said.

“How—”

It felt like a fist punching directly into the brain. Agraneia was thrown back as a whole set of memories filled her thoughts. Machine-filled corridors and utility tunnels and hordes of skittering maintenance constructs crawled into her mind. The memories overlaid the real world, glowing bright. She could see herself picking up Laykis’s scarred mask. Carrying the mask and the core with her, as she set off down one of the access tunnels. 

Agraneia pulled her liquid hand away from Laykis’s core, and the future memory disappeared. Timidly, she touched Laykis’s core again, and the memories flooded back. She could see exactly where to go. Curiously, she couldn’t see Eolh. 

She looked at him. He cocked his head at her. “What?” he croaked.

“You’re real, aren’t you?”

Eolh shrugged. “I feel real.”

Agraneia wiped her eyes once more. And put out a hand, letting Eolh help her to her feet. “As long as you’re with me, it’s good enough.”

Agraneia picked up Laykis’s mask. Put it under her arm, along with the core, and set off. 

***

The two armadas of the Sovereign converged upon each other. Trillions of repulsors ignited as twin metal waves screamed toward each other. Millions of kilometers of space rippled with movement. 

At the center of their convergence, there were three objects. The machine-covered Earth, a hollowed-out moon glittering with traces of silver, and further out, a Scar. With the scanners at maximum magnification, Queen Ryke could just make out the lonely black structure that hung suspended in front of the Scar. The Light dam looked like the closed-up bud of a night flower, like the ones that grew on Gaiam. That used to grow on Gaiam, she corrected herself. 

But her view of the Scar, and the Earth, were soon obscured as tiny, fiery streaks forked out from the twin armadas. Both sides of the Sovereign, it seemed, were eager to strike the first blow, but the left wing shot far more than the right.

Then, the right’s missiles split open, each body containing many smaller ones inside. Ryke watched as the waves of missiles slipped into each other, just over the Earth. Collisions created beautiful, blossoming spheres of superheated metal and radiation. Some were close enough to make ripples in the polluted atmosphere of the planet below.

But many, if not most, of the missiles survived. The Ark’s scanners counted the missiles, but there were so many zeroes behind that number, it became meaningless to Ryke. At first, the twin armadas ignored the Ark, only slinging missiles at each other. But as the Ark neared the Earth, swarms of drones and squadrons of ships peeled away from both fleets. They formed long, spearing lines and raved to reach the Ark. 

Hundreds of xenos watched, and more crowded in through the bulkhead doors, yet the Bridge was silent.

One of Ryke’s admirals whispered to her, “Your Majesty, we must turn back now. If we go any closer, we will never leave this place.”

Ryke turned toward the column of metal and wires on the Command Deck. “Yarsi will guide us through.”

The admiral wasn’t as certain. “But, Your Majesty, to what end?”

A tremor ran through Ryke’s chest. In truth, she didn’t know how to answer him. She feared that, perhaps, there was no answer.

One of the armadas seemed to be attacking the planet. There was much Ryke didn't understand. Gliding drones dipped into the atmosphere and swept over continental factories, dropping payloads whose devastation could be seen from space. Drones swarmed over the landmasses, cutting streaks into the clouds as they fought for dominance. And above the fray, great cruisers orbited like bloated sharks, directing invisible beams at the oceans, boiling them into steam.

Soon, Ryke guessed, there would be nothing left of Earth. And yet, Earth was where the Ark was headed, by Yarsis command. Who am I to question a god? 

So she watched. And prayed. And fought back the doubts and old memories that clawed into her mind.

Her faith was tested again when the first drones reached the Ark. They wanted to cut the engines and crack the ship open and devour its innards. But both armadas had the same idea, so the swarms that converged over the Ark had to choose: fight the Ark, or fight each other. Every weapon they spent on the Ark was one less attack on the opposing side. Thus, when drones slammed into the Ark, and started to drill into its hull, other drones shot them away before they could even grab hold.

“Ahead!” someone shouted, and Ryke could hear the crowd hold their breath as a crescent-shaped ship barreled head on toward the Ark. The inner part of the crescent split open lengthwise, like a monstrous set of jaws. Rows of heavy cannons and energy weapons bristled. Yet the crescent ship only started its first salvo before a massive cannon shell clapped into its hull, tearing the ship apart and scattering its cannons like so many teeth.

The Ark sailed through the debris cloud like a merchant’s ship through an ocean of ice. Though the Bridge was buried deep in the bowels of the Ark, they could hear the metal groan as something heavy dragged along the hull.

“If we must go to Earth,” her admiral whispered angrily, “Why doesn’t she jump us there? Why must we tempt fate?”

“She is saving her power,” Ryke said, “See the Ark’s reserves. There is only enough energy for one last jump.”

“Then,” the admiral said, almost hopefully, “Then Yarsi intends to pilot us out of here?” 

Ryke could smell his fear. And the fear radiating from all of them, mixed with the sweat and rankness of too many bodies crowding for too long on the Bridge. Yarsis had ordered everyone to abandon the habitation decks, and most had obeyed. Most, but not all. The faith of xenos was near to breaking. 

“Keep to your faith, avian,” Ryke said. And, gods, grant me strength to keep to mine.

An impact shook the Ark. A missile, intended for another target, detonated near the repulsors. Alarms raised and were silenced. Screens in the command center suddenly blinked out, as sensors were destroyed. Not that it mattered, as they were surrounded by chaos. Missiles serpentined through swirling storms of debris, shredded hulls collided together, and hosts of drones descended upon the remains, tearing into ships and into each other. It was impossible to tell which side was winning. 

An alarm barked an urgent warning, and a cluster of redenites gasped as they pointed at one of the screens. A clutch of drop pods had burrowed into the Ark’s hull, tearing away the weakest patches, and spewing dozens of hunter constructs into the breach. They descended upon the City, their repulsors blooming in the oxygenated air. They spread their limbs, capped with sensors and lethal projectile weapons, searching for targets.

On the hull of the Ark, one of the drop pods was ripped off, and tumbled into space. A drone, larger than the hunter constructs, heaved its body into the breach. It crunched and wriggled obscenely until it squeezed into the gap, and chased the swarm of smaller constructs into the City. Rings of multi-jointed limbs sprang out of its body, and sprayed penetrating rounds into the hunter. 

Why do they want to take us alive? Ryke wondered. Do they think there’s a god on the Ark?

Well, there was a god on board. Just not a human one.

The hunter constructs reversed and slammed their bodies against the massive drone, covering it with shivering bodies and dragging it down. Then, the whole Ark rocked, and the drones were destroyed as a chunk of the Ark suddenly disappeared. A cannon had blown out an entire section of the City, ripping out her people’s work. Skyscrapers and gardens and bridges and freshly-planted trees were sucked out into the vacuum.

An alarm blared on the bridge as the bulkheads sealed off the City, and the stubborn xenos who had refused to evacuate. 

Craters carved wounds into the Ark’s spearhead hull. Great pieces of its armor were torn out, exposing its innards to the void, and debris trailed in long lines behind the human-made ship. But the repulsors still glowed, and the Ark flew on. 

And the Earth loomed.

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