“MOVE AS FAR AS YOU CAN INTO THE PLAZA,” roared a bot voice. People stumbled and fell; kids were crying. Toby reached for Corva and put his arm across her shoulder to keep her close. Unable to see clearly, buffeted by others, they made their way toward a line of tall shapes half visible behind the spotlights.
“Mechs, Toby.” Corva pulled back.
“Doesn’t matter how close we are,” he said. “They’ll see us. And hear us—” He stopped talking. If Evayne had recorded his conversation with her—as she surely must have—then she would have his facial and voice biocrypto fed into all her bots. He had to hope his longer, lank hair, sunburnt features and new beard would confuse them. But his voice … Corva looked up at him, and he just shook his head.
“Where are the defense forces?” somebody shouted.
“They’ll be here! Give them a chance.”
They would, Toby knew; he’d woken them, too. There’d be some resistance, somewhere—but not right here, right now, and that was all that counted.
He’d lost. He couldn’t say it, couldn’t speak his fear, but his grip on Corva tightened as they staggered to a stop near the ranked forms of the military bots that ringed the lot.
These weren’t McGonigal bots but some standard military model. Evayne wouldn’t make the obvious mistake. Ditto for the half-meter-size quadcopters that flocked overhead. None would obey his commands.
Halen had been right. Better that he should have hidden behind an army of co-opted McGonigal bots and an even bigger force of fanatical Toby worshipers. He imagined the sky dark with his own ships, Evayne’s forces on the run, and an unstoppable militia flying his banners behind him as he stepped onto the soil of Destrier. That whole world would fall on its knees before him. They’d been waiting, after all, since the dawn of time. With Evayne helpless, he could have strode to their mother’s strange resting place and put his hand on the lock there, the one that only he in all the universe could open.
These … things, that his brother and sister had turned into—they’d be on the run then. He was never going to get his Peter back, nor his Evayne. But at least he could have driven those dark changelings out of the universe. He could have set things right, as he was supposed to. Now he’d never get the chance.
“WOMEN AND CHILDREN TO THE GREEN AREA!” Laser light described a square near the building.
“Why are they separating us?”
“What’s going on?”
“We’re not going to harm anyone!” It was a new voice, not the mechanical claxon sound of the military bots but a human man. He stepped out from between the mil bots, one of Evayne’s senior officers in a black-and-silver uniform.
“We’re searching the city for a criminal!” he went on, raising one hand to try to still the cries of outrage and fear coming from the crowd. “If you’re not him, you can go home. I’m just going to split off the obvious noncandidates to get this over with as quickly as possible!”
Slightly emboldened, some of the men pressed forward. “You have no right to do this!” one shouted. “The lockstep laws—”
Three milbots stepped toward him, the thud of their footsteps reverberating through the ground. “You don’t seem to understand,” said the officer. “Nobody will be hurt if nobody resists.”
Some of the men looked ready to fight despite their fear. A terrible feeling of helplessness was building in Toby’s throat. Barely aware he was doing it, he took a step forward.
Corva pulled him back. “What are you doing?” she hissed in his ear.
“I can’t let them be hurt for no reason—”
“Stop it!” She hauled at his arm.
But the moment had passed. The men who were thinking of resisting now found themselves washed with air from a dozen or more drones that hovered just above their heads. None of them could have taken a step without being knocked down, either lethally or by one or another stun technique.
“Women and children into the square, please,” the officer repeated. Reluctantly, the crowd began to dissolve into two parts.
Toby took his arm away from Corva’s shoulder and gently shoved her after the other women. “Take Orph, will you?”
“No, Toby—”
“It’s fine. I’ll just be a minute.” He disentangled Orpheus from his shoulder and handed the denner to Corva. Orpheus struggled, chittering anxiously.
“Go!” He stepped away from them. Corva backed away, then turned and fled through the maze of grim men, into darkness.
Abstractly, Toby noticed that lights like these spotlights were shining around other nearby buildings. This same drama was being played out throughout the neighborhood.
The officer began walking along the front of the crowd of men, a bot about his own size striding with him. This one flicked a light into the face of each man as they passed. “No,” said the bot, and the officer would pull the man forward and point him at the other crowd, the one with the women and children. “No, no, no, no…”
With terrifying speed, they peeled back the front lines of the crowd, getting closer and closer to Toby. He knew they’d find him; why not just step forward and get it over with? But he couldn’t move.
“Orpheus!”
Corva’s voice jolted him out of his paralysis. Toby whirled, saw her standing with the other women, a hand at her neck. Orpheus must have bitten her, because here he came, bounding through the tall grass that separated the two groups.
Toby took a step toward him. “No! Get back—”
Lightning flashed from one of the swooping black drones, and Orpheus wasn’t running but tumbling, once, twice, then flopping utterly still in the dark grass.
“No!” Toby ran to him, or tried, but suddenly a milbot loomed in front of him and a metal hand rammed him in the chest. His breath knocked out of him, Toby sat down hard.
The officer strolled over and tilted his head, frowning. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “Your denner?” He crouched in front of Toby, peering into his face. “No, I don’t think…”
His bot had come up behind him and now it bent down, too, flicking its light in Toby’s face. Toby had just a moment to look past it to where Corva stood stricken with the others, Wrecks crouched at her feet with his hackles raised, then the officer’s bot said,
“Yes.”
THE FLIGHT OF EMOTIONS across the officer’s face would have been hilarious at any other time: disbelief, panic, triumph all battled it out in the few seconds that he crouched frozen in front of Toby. Then he reached out quickly; Toby flinched, but he was offering his hand.
“I’m so sorry, sir. Can you come with me please?”
Toby ignored the offer of help. He wanted to turn and look, see if Orpheus was okay and if they’d realized that Corva was with him—but anything he did, a flicker of the eyes, a half turn in that direction—might alert the watchful bots. If they’d been recording everything then there was nothing he could do anyway; but if not …
“Yes,” he said, “I’m coming,” and he stood and resolutely walked away from Corva and the dear friend who lay so unmoving in the grass.
The officer was talking excitedly, doubtless advising the other search units that they could stop their sweeps. The milbots broke ranks, milling about for a moment and then falling into formation all around Toby and the other human. Black shapes swooped and soared triumphantly over it all, morphing into hinted silhouettes as the milbots flicked off their spotlights.
“This way, sir,” said the officer. “We have an aircar waiting. It’s not much, but I hope you won’t find it too uncomfortable.”
This comment startled Toby out of his shock. “Uncomfortable? What do you think I’ve been—” But there was no point, and anything more he said was just going to turn into screaming anger. He shook his head, but the officer was practically running now, the mil bots pushing from behind, so Toby had to say, “What’s the hurry? We’ve been at this for years, a few more seconds isn’t going to matter.”