Tomm, Zarex, and 33418 climbed down from the cockpit, and Hunter immediately put the flying machine into his Twenty 'n Six.
"Not exactly what I pictured from the fairy tale," Pater Tomm whispered, moving his hand from his forehead to his chest and then giving a tap to each shoulder.
They stood there, the four of them, for a very long time, not talking, letting it all sink in. The all-encompassing destruction under the blur of the dull blue sun became oddly fascinating after a while.
Hell… That was the word that kept popping into Hunter's mind. If there really was a Hell somewhere, it had to look a lot like this.
They set up a small camp. Tomm produced some ancient fire, Zarex commanded 33418 to go on full-passive scan. The robot's head began swiveling back and forth. Even Hunter had to admit he felt better with the ten-foot mechanical man standing watch over them. This place was giving them all the creeps.
But no sooner had 33418 been activated when the usual hum coming from its chest suddenly skyrocketed in pitch. The danker walked to the edge of the precipice and stared down into the trench-filled valley. A beam shot out of his helmet visor and began actively scanning the battlefield below. Suddenly the robot pitched forward — it was almost as if he was throwing himself into the maw. But then the power jets in his boots ignited, and he was airborne a moment later. The three humans watched, mystified, as the danker flew to the deepest, foggiest part of the valley, eventually diving down and disappearing into the murk. He reappeared a moment later, shooting straight up for about one thousand feet, then curving over and coming in for a perfect landing not far from where he'd taken off.
He was carrying with him the remains of two battle robots. He dropped the wreckage at Zarex's feet.
"I think he's trying to tell you something," Hunter said.
"Or educate us," Pater Tomm added.
Zarex tugged at his woolly mane. "I should tell you I'm not the best when it comes to communicating with him," he admitted. "He understands our basic language, but he's so old, I think he was programmed in a more ancient version."
"Go ahead anyway," Hunter urged Zarex. "Encourage him."
Zarex shrugged and then said to the robot, "Ah, OK… Proceed…"
The clanker did not move.
"Ah, carry on?" Zarex tried again.
Still nothing.
'Try this," Hunter said. "Engage___"
The robot moved, but ever so slightly and only for an instant.
"Try it again, Hawk," Zarex told him.
Hunter cleared his throat and said even louder, "Engage!"
That did the trick. Twin beams suddenly erupted out of the clanker's visor, hitting the dead robots at his feet. Almost instantly, the two piles of wreckage began to move. Twin hums of electricity filled the air. Incredibly, the mechanical corpses were beginning to stir.
Pater Tomm's eyes went extra wide. "We might want to take a step back for this," he said.
All three did, and right before their eyes, the two robots began rebuilding themselves. First it was just a clink here, a clank there. Then an arm stretched out. Then a leg started coming together. The process began to speed up, and before they knew it, the two snarling, snorting robots had regained their full height, which was just a tad shorter than 33418 itself.
"So it is true!" Pater Tomm said with a gasp. "They can come back to life!"
Hunter and Zarex were just as startled as the priest.
"I've never… I mean I really didn't think…" Zarex began stuttering.
The battle robots stood about eight feet tall, looking fierce in their metal faces, their huge clamperlike hands, powerful torsos, and ridiculously muscular legs. They had a variety of weapons strapped to their belts and many more sprouting from their huge wrists and forearms. Further diluting the legend, neither robot was white or gray. In fact, one was deep black, the other dirty green.
In perfect synchronous movement, both robots coiled back, and after an instant or two of contemplation, lunged at each other with snarling ferocity. The humans quickly retreated even farther as the mechanical soldiers commenced to tear each other apart again. Few weapons came into play in the brief but brutal battle. It was simply massive force versus massive force. The robots pounded away at each other, creating huge dents and searing rips in their metallic fabric. And sure enough, they fought each other to an absolute draw. In less than thirty seconds, both robots had been reduced to piles of junk again.
"Wow!" Pater Tomm whispered, as 33418 gently pushed both piles of rubble over the cliff, sending them tumbling back into the deep valley again. 'That certainly was educational."
"It surely was," Zarex said. "I just learned that I don't want to be here when the five million other tin cans on this rock decide to rise from the dead again."
"I'm with you there," Hunter said, visualizing the entire planet in the throes of a relentless mechanical struggle. It was not something to be caught in the middle of. "But now what?"
"Well, that's the problem," Zarex said, scanning the smoky sky above them. "Now, we just have to wait. If the people who know how to get to the Home Planets from here want anything to do with us, they'll have to let us know."
Pater Tomm needed no convincing. He collapsed to the seat of his pants, as if all the energy had suddenly been sucked out of him. Zarex, too, found the most comfortable rock to sit down on. Hunter was at the point of exhaustion as well. The long trip added to so much uncertainty didn't help the condition. What lay now in the future? It had taken them so long and so much effort just to get to this place, it seemed like such a dead end now that they'd finally arrived.
Could they really find their way to the Home Planets from here? At the moment, it seemed very unlikely.
Hunter finally sat down and rubbed his weary eyes. The wind blew again, and it sounded like another thousand voices screaming in agony. The robot stayed rigid, his head again sweeping back and forth, constantly scanning. But definitely slower. The hum coming from his insides had taken on a mournful note.
Pater Tomm looked at the sullen group gathered around the fire and just shook his head. "What a merry band are we," he sighed.
The night came quickly.
Setting in the west, the dull blue sun cast the weirdest shadows as it died away. Purple, aqua, hints of bloodred flooded across the wreckage-strewn plains. Then came complete darkness. There were no moons to glow and precious little starshine here. Once all light was gone, the wind began to absolutely howl. Now it sounded like tens of thousands of people screaming in pain. There were even more horrific cries rising up from the valley below, more chilling than the wind. Low-pitched, mechanical, guttural, like some gigantic danker trying to catch his breath. Every once in a while, a bone-rattling electronic moan would float up from the ancient killing fields, causing the humans to stir. Hunter found himself constantly feeling for the handle of his blaster pistol. Zarex had a massive ray-gun rifle resting on his knees. Pater Tomm sat between them and tended the fire. The robot simply kept scanning.
Hunter tried to pass the time, as always, by staring up at the heavens, but the night sky here was uncomfortably devoid of stars. In almost every direction he looked, he saw only the blackness of space with just a few pinpricks of light shining through. If they needed any further proof just how far out they were, this was certainly it.