Melt glared at him, eyes glowing.
‘They said that there were humans in Artemis,’ said Karel. ‘I think we need to find out as much as we possibly can.’
‘Very well,’ said Melt. ‘But watch out. Their words are lubricated in the finest oil. Don’t trust the animals!’
The night passed under the brilliant stars to the tolling of bells. The noise from the city was increasing, the steady stamping, the gunfire. More than once Wa-Ka-Mo-Do thought he should go to the aid of Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah, but each time Gillian had dissuaded him.
‘They are coming,’ she said, oblivious to Wa-Ka-Mo-Do’s concerns. ‘Our soldiers are more than a match for a few civilians.’ Didn’t she realize that, but for a lingering concern for the Emperor’s authority and for the fact that he wasn’t sure just what to do for the best, he would have given his robots the order to open fire upon her and her troops?
The gun at the top of the Street of Becoming was deactivated. The other human guns were mostly still now. Every so often one of them would twitch and send a brief stream of bullets into the night before lowering its head and resting once more. There was a sense of calmness and isolation up here at the top of Sangrel, a feeling of being temporarily removed from the trouble below. They all felt it, human and robot alike, staring into the surrounding darkness.
‘Zuse is low tonight,’ said La-Ver-Di-Arussah. ‘Hiding behind the hills.’
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do looked at her in surprise, not expecting this sudden show of feeling. Was her confidence ebbing as his was?
‘I heard that Zuse is mentioned in the Book of Robots,’ she said.
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do couldn’t be bothered to pretend any more.
‘It is, La-Ver-Di-Arussah.’ And he thought of Rachael. Rachael had told him that there was something significant about the metal moon. The humans seemed to know so much, he reflected, so much more than the robots did.
‘What do you think of your creators now?’ taunted La-Ver-Di-Arussah.
‘They’re not our creators,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do bitterly. ‘The book says that we should look after each other. The humans don’t even look after themselves: look how they are fighting each other.’
As if to prove his point, the nearest gun turned and fired a quick burst out into the night. He felt adrift, engaged in a war that he didn’t understand, caught between opposing forces that had no interest in him, half following the remnants of orders issued by his former Emperor.
His former Emperor. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do felt a deep sense of shame at his treachery, but what else could he have done?
‘They’re coming!’
The words were spoken by robots and humans alike. He saw the remaining humans of Sangrel hurrying up the broken Street of Becoming.
The street was wider at the top, the houses there richer and more imposing. The humans moved quickly up the centre of the road, surrounded by green-panelled human soldiers, their feet slipping on the rounded cobbles as they headed for safety. The soldiers scanned the high windows and roofs, looking out for dark silhouettes against the stars. Every so often they raised a rifle to their shoulder and fired. Each time, a robot died. Still the bells tolled, but now, faintly behind them could be heard the chanting of electronic voices. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do peered into the darkness and saw the shapes of his troops bringing up the rear. Where was Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah?
The humans began to enter the square, walking three abreast, quickly but without haste, and Wa-Ka-Mo-Do felt a sneaking admiration at their grace under pressure. He scanned their faces for Rachael, but didn’t see her. If they had any sense they would have put the young and weak in the middle of the line.
A shout came from the city below.
‘The animals! They’re escaping!’
How did they know? Did they guess the humans’ plan? It didn’t matter. All those little groups of robots out there, creeping through the rubble, searching for courage and direction, suddenly found a focus. The sound of gunfire increased.
The steady flow of humans became a stampede.
‘It’s started!’ La-Ver-Di-Arussah drew her sword. ‘Cover the humans! Don’t allow any robot past!’
‘No killing!’ shouted Wa-Ka-Mo-Do.
La-Ver-Di-Arussah laughed.
‘How else will we maintain order?’
She moved forward, the remaining robot troops forming up around her. More humans came running forward, tumbling over each other, and Wa-Ka-Mo-Do found himself struggling against the tide. It would be so easy to take his sword and cut through this all too yielding flesh.
‘Where’s Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah?’ he called.
‘Down there,’ said La-Ver-Di-Arussah. ‘At the rear!’
‘Once the humans are past, bring all the troops up into the square!’
‘I will!’ She had resheathed her sword. Now she took out a pistol of human design and began to fire into the night.
‘Where did you get that?’ shouted Wa-Ka-Mo-Do.
‘Gillian gave it to me!’
She wore a look of delight as she aimed the pistol down the street, picking off the civilians who showed themselves. There were more and more of them, the revolutionary crowd was growing all the time.
‘I still can’t see Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah!’
‘He doesn’t matter! Look at all these robots! We’re not going to hold them!’
She was right. They were losing the battle.
Losing the battle? These were his own citizens he was fighting against!
And then he heard a noise behind him, and he turned to see the female gun at the top of the street raise its head.
Gillian had lied to him. The humans had set it working again!
He turned to run towards it, just as that odd rippling noise began. Just in time, he flattened himself to the ground, the air flickering above him as the gun fired down the road. He heard the shriek and clatter of metal being torn apart. Robots, the robots of his city were being killed, troops and rebels alike.
From where he lay he saw Gillian and the soldiers looking down the street with empty eyes, eyes that did not light up with warmth or intelligence. Quickly, he began to crawl up towards the gun, hoping that it wouldn’t fire upon him. It hadn’t turned on La-Ver-Di-Arussah and the rest; he guessed that it was ranged beyond them.
It was a gamble, but a good one. Besides, better to die with honour charging the humans’ weapon than to lie here while robots were being killed.
He sprang forward, sprinting up the street.
A human soldier pointed a pistol in his direction. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do glared at him, lighting up his face with the white glow of his eyes. The soldier hesitated, long enough for him to reach the gun, the shapely, curving machine that rippled death on the robots below. He could feel the power surging through it, that strange, singing current. He drew an awl and thrust it deep into the heart of the gun’s shaft, heard the bang, felt the electro-muscle in his right arm burn and die at the same time as the great gun did. Its head drooped, the rippling ceased. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do had killed it.
‘What have you done?’ shouted Gillian, running up to him. She had pulled her pistol from its holster and pointed it to his head as he stood there, arm hanging limply at his side. The gun wavered; the square was filling with humans all the time, behind them the noise of shooting was growing louder. The Street of Becoming echoed to the clatter of gunfire.
‘Wa-Ka-Mo-Do!’
Rachael emerged from the crowd, face pale and smudged with soot.
‘What happened to your arm?’
‘Rachael,’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do in a low voice. ‘Get back.’
Rachael noticed Gillian, who lowered her gun and turned back to her troops.
‘Get another gun across here, now!’ she called.
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do saw that the last of the humans had entered the square. Now only the imperial soldiers remained, covering their retreat. La-Ver-Di-Arussah was forming them into a line at the top of the street, pouring fire down at the attacking rebels.