Chapter Eight

 

 

The lounge that they were brought to was light, bright, and had food and beverages just lying around on the side tables.

Hima sat gingerly with her arm still in a light silvery wrapping.

Their host smiled and then frowned at Hima. “Are you injured?”

“I am. There was an explosion when I was approaching my bot. One of the projectiles that the orbiting ships were firing made it into the valley.”

“Ah, just a moment.” He pushed back his silvery sleeve and entered a code on the screen embedded in his flesh. “A medic will be here shortly. Now, ladies. What can I do for you?”

Duel cleared her throat. “We are here for pilots. The agreement after the last war was that we would maintain the bots and you would maintain pilots of pure bloodlines who are coded for our machines.”

The man sat back, and he stroked his chin with elegant fingers. “I suppose we could try to find citizens who had the correct bloodline, but to be honest, we are shocked that you even exist by now.”

Corbyn frowned. “Who are you?”

“Ah. Where are my manners? I am Mayor Otta. Now, that brings me to my question, how are you even here? We cut off supplies to the valley over a half a century ago. We believed you had already died out.”

Corbyn was shocked, as were most of the others. Nyvett was the only one who simply winced.

Corbyn tensed her lips but asked, “So, where are the pilots? We are under attack, and the pilots are needed.”

Otta waved his hand. “We have the training program, but you will be hard pressed to find anyone in this city of ten thousand who has pure bloodlines. Sex is a delightful way to pass the time.”

Corbyn looked to the other ladies and shrugged, “We wouldn’t know.”

Mayor Otta looked around, and his slit pupils flexed and widened. “Ah, of course. Well, in addition to the pleasures of the flesh, my citizens also enjoy genetic enhancement. It is an excellent way to personalize one’s body.”

Lido piped up, “It is already your body, how much more personal can it get?”

The mayor stared at her as if she had two heads.

A soft knock on the door let the mayor welcome in a medic who looked them over and walked to Hima without hesitation.

Hima winced when the woman took charge of her arm, but she remained as still as possible as the medic got to work.

Corbyn was still trying to get the idea of genetic tampering through her head when the mayor huffed and crossed his arms. “I can’t help you.”

 

* * * *

 

Nyvett got to her feet, prompting the mayor to do the same. His size made him appear to be a fifteen-year old, but his attitude said that he was fully grown.

“Why aren’t you reacting to the news that there is an attacking force coming for you?”

He waved it off. “They have been in negotiations with us. They want the hot sands and were just trying to clear the remains of your civilization from it.”

Nyvett smiled slightly. “And you authorized it.”

He nodded. “Of course. With the lack of supplies, you should have been down to a few dozen women.”

“And you did not feel it necessary to warn us that the attack was incoming.”

He shrugged. “Communications have been spotty. We told them to wait for the sign of the burn. That would get the majority of your population out to witness it.”

The other women were shocked, but Nyvett had to draw this all out. “What of the equipment that has been repaired for the city? The plasma generators that now make up the emergency dome?”

“I never denied that the city of engineers wasn’t useful, but when the Tokkel offered their medical technology to us, it was thought of as a fair trade. You for us.”

Nyvett paced slightly. “Your population has decreased by more than half from what it was a few decades ago.”

“Not everyone was compatible with the new technology. There were casualties.”

The casual way he mentioned the loss of life made her jaw clench. “You mentioned pilot-training units?”

“Sure. There was one for every bot. I could show you. They are in storage but still in good repair.”

She gave him a blank smile. “That would be great. Hima, are you done?”

Hima was flexing her left arm, and she nodded. “I am back to normal, Nyvett.”

The medic smiled. “You were down to a sprain and a hairline fracture.” She was nearly a standard human, but the ridges of bone running from front to back made her head look like a melon.

Mayor Otta inclined his head. “Please follow me. I will take you to the storage area where we keep the teaching units.”

The rest of them got back to their feet and followed him down the hall. He glanced back occasionally. “Are all of those who remain so... tall?”

Nyvett smiled. “We are. It is an average height for our people. It was a good thing that we were able to live off the land when the rations stopped or things could have gone another way.”

“Lived off the land?” the idea was obviously foreign to him.

“Oh, yes. Hera has an abundance of nutritious and deadly animals, so we had to gain the skills to get enough to feed our people. There is nothing worse than watching a child starve when it could be prevented.”

“Ah, right. Yes, that would be horrible. I wonder what my grandfather was thinking.”

That got her focus like nothing else would. “Grandfather? It was only fifty years ago. What is a life span in the city?”

“Forty. It was decided that it would make the dead more attractive to the mourners, and it is the side effect of the Tokkel genetic gift.”

The other five from the valley murmured in amazement. When a woman was forty, she had either had her child or was focused on her occupation. There were recreational aspects that could only be exerted at that age, such as marriage. A partnership formed at forty could last another ten decades if health was maintained. Forty was the start of carefree life for a woman in Bot City.

Nyvett smiled slightly when he looked at her as if expecting a reply. “It is an interesting age.”

He huffed. “Well, how long do you live?”

“If nothing interrupts our genetic life span? Several decades more than that.”

“But you age.”

Nyvett wrinkled her nose. “Not really. Our diet as teens has an effect on the aging process. We really don’t. A woman at twenty looks similar to one who is eighty.”

“I don’t believe it. How old are you?”

She grinned. “Thirty-three. The others are of similar ages.”

“Well, you are holding up well then.”

She didn’t want to, but she had to ask. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-five. I don’t look a day over seventeen.”

She nodded politely while wincing inwardly. If that was what men looked like at twenty-five, she was glad she was raised in a city of women.

The halls inside the wall were silent. There was no one to see or speak to.

When they got to the storage area, it was on the inner section of the wall, and Mayor Otta pushed the door open with great difficulty. Nyvett pushed it above his head, and the door slammed back into the wall. He stood and looked smug, as if he didn’t know his own strength.

“This way. There is power here, but the panel is at the back of the chamber. You are engineers, I am sure you can figure it out.”

He waved them into the space, and when they were all inside, he pulled the door closed and sealed it.

Nyvett could hear his shout. “Sorry about this, but we really do want to make sure that the valley is clear for its new occupants. With the bots here, it should be easy.”

She growled, “Iff, can you do anything?”

“It would help if I had a trained pilot. If you are stuck there anyway, take the training.”

 

* * * *

 

The moment the door locked, Xaia headed for the rear of the chamber. She found the breaker and turned it on.

In spiralling clusters, chairs were set with headgear and connections to a huge mainframe. When Xaia checked, the mainframe wasn’t connected to an outside source.

“Ladies, find your bot or your clan name. This is the reason we had to come here. This is the place we learn what our ancestor knew.”

Nyvett stepped forward. “I will try it first. If it scrambles my brain, the rest of you can just break out.”

Xaia looked at the program. “It isn’t a brain scrambler. It is an imprint of the last pilots. Apparently, they never had any intention of keeping their part of the bargain. These are all our clan names.”

Nyvett settled in Norm’s chair. She slipped the helmet on over the headset and leaned back. “Ready when you are.”

Xaia activated the program, and she watched the readings, for Nyvett’s brain match up in a number of areas with Norm’s.

When Nyvett’s hands fumbled at the helmet, her eyes were slightly glazed. She leaned forward and took deep breaths. “It is fine. It is just intense. I can guarantee that if your pilots were like this one, you will know what you need to make that bot a warrior.”

The women all moved around the chamber to their chairs, and Xaia set them off one by one. When three were done, she sat in Turo’s chair, and she pulled the helmet down.

“Hit enter.”

Nyvett did as instructed because as Xaia sat in the chair, she was in Ai and fighting for her life. Spidery bots climbed her body and she scraped them off, venting heat through slots in her armour and turning with a blade extending from the back of her wrist as she slashed worm bots down the centre lengthways.

She saw every permutation and combination of fighting techniques with the background patter of Ai and Turo talking in a masculine and companionable manner. At the end of the experience, Turo brought Ai to the valley and then took the monorail back to the city. He gave his genetic contribution three times—which was weird for Xaia—and he lived out his life in comfort as a peacekeeper for the city.

She lifted the headset and looked at Nyvett. “Did yours go all the way to the end?”

“He did. Apparently, once they were here, they took it upon themselves to download all of their experiences into this unit. No one bothered to stop them.”

The other women gathered around, each with the memory of their ancestor bright and taking pride of place in their thoughts.

Xaia blinked when she heard, “I understand that thoughts of me are fascinating, but if you want to get out of there, I would recommend you determining another course of action.” Ai’s voice was dry.

Xaia blinked. “They won’t help because they think they are safe behind the plasma shield, right? Ai, pulse this code out.” She rattled off a seventeen-digit number and waited.

Nyvett gave her a sly smile. “What did you just do?”

“I turned off their shield. If they won’t give a damn about my people, I sure won’t worry about what they have turned themselves into surviving for another stunted generation.”

Xaia got to her feet and looked at the door. She smiled. “So, since we all know where the weapon’s cache is now, shall we load up our bots and get our people to safety?”

They all grinned and nodded.

Nyvett murmured, “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

With a count of three, they burst through the door and ran for their bots. They had an armoury to raid.

 

* * * *

 

Kiida checked the monitors, and she tensed up. “Dif, they are coming.”

“I can see them. Are you ready?”

“As ready as I can be.” She inhaled and exhaled as the ground troops began to close on them. “I have the guns standing by.”

“Good. Are any of those small bots ready?”

She sent a message to the armoury. “They are going to be. We need to give them an hour.”

“That we can do.”

Kiida waited until the incoming ground forces were within range, she stood Dif up and opened fire.

So much for being a reserve force, she really hoped that the other bots were having better luck in the city. They needed trained pilots, and they needed them yesterday.