‘What’s happening, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do?’ Rachael’s voice sounded frightened. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do pushed the soft human gently away, and went forward to La-Ver-Di-Arussah.
‘You should have left the gun alone,’ she said. ‘It would have kept them back. They’ll overwhelm us soon.’
She was right. There were so many robots out there now. Thin, poorly constructed things, the light in their eyes dim, their bodies made of tin and pig iron and whatever else there was to hand. They carried a few guns, a few knives. Mainly they held metal struts and bars, ripped from the broken buildings and quickly shaped into clubs and spears. These were robots that had lived in poverty for years under the Emperor’s rule, only to have even that taken from them when the humans had arrived. Little wonder that tonight they had finally risen up.
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do felt the current draining from his body. Everything had gone so wrong. La-Ver-Di-Arussah had been right. He was nothing but a peasant, he was not made for command.
He looked at the straggling remains of the Imperial Army, joining the ranks of La-Ver-Di-Arussah’s defence.
‘Where’s Ka-Lo-Re-Harballah?’
‘Hit by the humans’ gun.’
And at that the current flowed back through his body. Stronger and brighter than before, humming with anger.
‘The humans’ gun?’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, softly. ‘The humans’ gun? And you see nothing wrong with this? Our soldiers cut down for the benefit of these Sebol?’
He spat out the words.
‘We follow the will of the Emperor,’ said La-Ver-Di-Arussah, calmly.
‘The Emperor is a fool! He has sold us to these animals!’
‘We are his to sell. All of us. And none more so than those pig-iron peasants down there.’
She waved to where the robots were moving in fits and starts up the Street of Becoming, falling in ones and twos before the volleys of the guns.
Something dark passed across the bright stars above, and a new sound could be heard: a descending hum.
‘The humans’ ship,’ said La-Ver-Di-Arussah. ‘Look, here it comes!’
Red lines leaped into being at the edge of the horizon, tracking a path through the night sky towards the descending craft. The female guns bobbed and turned, and high above more fire tracked out from the ship, intercepting the attack that had streamed from the distance.
‘They’re dropping the shuttles now,’ said Gillian. ‘Give us half an hour and we’ll be gone.’
And then what about us?
His thought was cut off. Gillian gulped, gulped again. She spat dark oil from her mouth. No, not oil, blood. Blood was pouring from her mouth and her chest, staining her uniform. A second bullet struck Wa-Ka-Mo-Do in his dead arm. He heard the ringing noise through the night. Robots were pouring into the square. How had they got up here so fast? They hadn’t breached La-Ver-Di-Arussah’s line.
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do reached for his shotgun with his dead arm, realized his mistake and pulled it awkwardly from its sheath with the other. Across the square, humans were running towards one of the female guns, seeking no doubt to turn it on the robots.
‘No!’ called Wa-Ka-Mo-Do.
La-Ver-Di-Arussah was firing at the attacking robots, shattering a fragile head, sending blue wire tangling out. The sound of the bells, the humming of the descending ship, the rippling of the guns…
‘Stop!’ cried Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. He raised his voice. ‘I am Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, of Ko, of the State of Ekrano in the High Spires! One of the Eleven! Commander of the Emperor’s Army of Sangrel! I command you to halt.’
It worked. For a moment. The peasants nearest to him paused and looked in his direction. Then one turned a gun towards him, but too slowly. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do fired his shotgun, shattering the front of its body.
He heard screams. Human screams. There was Rachael nearby, mouth wide open in a human expression of terror. Two robots had hold of her; they were pulling at her arms, trying to rip her apart. He leaped forward, kicked at the nearest with the blades at his feet, ripping the electromuscles in its leg. The second robot let go and ran. He shot it in the chest.
‘Th… thank you…’ said Rachael. She placed a hand on his arm. She looked as if she was going to hold him. At that moment she reminded him so much of La-Cor, his sister, he felt ashamed. Sangrel was burning, robots were dying, and he had paused to help a human. Would his sister understand that?
‘Wa-Ka-Mo-Do,’ said Rachael. ‘Listen to me, as soon as we’re gone, you’ve got to get away from here.’
‘Can’t. I’ve got the city to control!’
A knife flew out of the night. He held out the barrel of his shotgun and deflected it from Rachael. She didn’t seem to notice.
‘Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, listen to me! It doesn’t matter! It will take us some time to get into orbit, but once we’re clear, sometime tomorrow morning…’
Three explosions nearby. Shattered metal washed across the square. The first human shuttle descended from the sky. A wide-bodied craft, it landed near the terrace, light shining from its open doors.
‘Go!’ said Wa-Ka-Mo-Do.
‘Wa-Ka-Mo-Do, you must listen to me! They’re going to drop-’
But someone took hold of Rachael and dragged her away, off towards the shuttle. Wa-Ka-Mo-Do turned and rejoined the fight.
But the fighting was dying away. In the middle of the turning guns, beneath the explosions and flares that lit up the sky above, calm was spreading over the square. Humans retreated unmolested as robots were ceasing to fight, laying down their arms and kneeling down.
What was happening? And then Wa-Ka-Mo-Do saw what the robots had already noticed. He saw the three figures that had emerged from the Copper Master’s house and who were now walking towards Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. He felt his gyros rattling, felt the current wobbling through his body. The Vestal Virgins had returned.
The electrical hum of terror affected everyone in the square, and Wa-Ka-Mo-Do remembered the stories he had told Rachael of how the old rulers of Sangrel had woven fear into the citizens. It was still there now, it was there in every subject of the Emperor. Subservience to the Vestal Virgins was woven into the mind of every robot.
The three women passed one of the human guns, their beauty rendering that of the alien machine strange and ugly by comparison. They halted before Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. He was swaying, he had discharged too much current that day. His arm hung useless at his side. He had never felt more powerless.
‘Wa-Ka-Mo-Do,’ said the first. ‘You have failed the Emperor.’
She was as beautiful as he remembered her, but there, under the starry sky, with the fires of destruction leaping around the edge of the terrace, it was a terrible beauty.
‘The Emperor has failed us!’ shouted Wa-Ka-Mo-Do. His words rang hollow across the square.
‘You have failed Sangrel,’ said the second.
‘The Emperor failed Sangrel.’
‘You are relieved of your command,’ said the third.
‘By whose authority?’
‘The Emperor’s. There is a radio in the Mound of Eternity. Surely you must have realized this?’
He hadn’t. He felt a shimmering whine inside himself, as if his lifeforce was dying away.
One of the Vestal Virgins turned to La-Ver-Di-Arussah. ‘La-Ver-Di-Arussah, you are now in charge of this city.’
‘No!’
‘Be silent, Wa-Ka-Mo-Do,’ said another.
La-Ver-Di-Arussah stepped forward, smiling.
‘Put down this rebellion.’
He wanted to shout out, but he couldn’t. He had been ordered to silence, and it was woven into his mind to obey the Vestal Virgins.
One of them stepped forward, she touched Wa-Ka-Mo-Do on the head.
‘This way,’ she said.
He found himself following her from the square. He had no choice. He looked across, saw Rachael’s pale face looking across at him as she boarded the shuttle. She was shouting something to him, but he couldn’t hear. The rattle of gunfire had begun once more, directed by La-Ver-Di-Arussah.
Wa-Ka-Mo-Do was led into the Copper Master’s house, no longer the Commander of the Emperor’s Army of Sangrel, no longer a warrior of honour.