Gunnm/Battle Angel 1. Prologue

The behemoth plowed into the cold silt plains at the bottom of the ocean, sending up clouds of murkiness and small organisms alike as it drove its body into the sand. It writhed, mindless of how its thrashing alarmed the smaller creatures in the vicinity while attracting larger predators. Here at the bottom of the ocean, where no light reached and the temperature was just a few degrees above freezing the behemoth exhibited an energy foreign to these depths. In the silent darkness, the behemoth was hidden, but the pressure waves it created attested to its great mass. The infrequent faint illumination of a stray bioluminescent organism caught up in the turbulence, offered the only hint at the behemoth's size, meeting a weak reflection of itself as it drifted past the broad side of the creature. An ancient six-gill shark fourteen feet in length entered the area just as the erratic movements ceased. The largest predator of the abyssal zone, the shark continued to drift silently towards the epicenter of the disturbance, its tail barely moving. 

With most of the bothersome barnacles now removed from its hide, the behemoth righted itself and ascended swiftly, pushing the archaic shark aside with only the envelope of pressure created by its passage. The behemoth paid as much attention to the large shark as it had the microscopic creatures it had disturbed, which was none. It ascended into the twilight zone and began to encounter more familiar populations of marine life. In the deepest level of shadow were the cumbersome and slow-moving grouper, above those, deep-running schools of tuna, followed by swifter snapper and bonita. These fish gave the behemoth a wide berth, unnecessarily so, since it was not hungry. 

Now the water was growing brighter and warmer and colors were returning to the visible spectrum. Strain was beginning to express itself within the behemoth's body, incurred by the swift ascent, but it did not slow. The fish became smaller nearer to the surface, residing in schools that numbered in the hundreds or thousands, all to create the impression that they were not as inconsequential as they appeared. They were also fast and colorful, in great contrast to the drab slower fish of the depths. The behemoth cleaved through these living clouds and the hapless fish tumbled in its wake. The discomfort of the changing pressure was now so strong as to border on pain. It could taste the increased salinity of the photic zone, where the sunlight was strong and cast brilliant streaks into the water. An instant before it surfaced, the behemoth felt the ghostly touch of the blankets of algae and seaweed. 

The large creature rose high out of the water, then crashed back with a terrific splash that sent the tiny fish nearby into flight. At the ceiling of its domain, the behemoth rolled over on its side to view the void beyond while the water settled and the foam disappeared. The expanse of sky was as great as that of the ocean, stretching unbroken to the horizon. The blazing sun that could not be looked at directly and a few swaths of cirrocumulus clouds marked the heights of the aerial gallery, but otherwise, it was barren. A lone cormorant glided overhead and banked to circle the small dark island below. It considered landing, but chose otherwise and continued on its way. 

The behemoth's iridescent skin shimmered under the dancing sunlight that entered the water while it regarded the two worlds with one eye. Too heavy to rise and fall with the swells, the behemoth floated practically motionless and as it rested, it could feel the radiant sunlight infusing warmth into flesh chilled by the depths. The strain of its rapid ascent had reached its utmost and was now beginning to fade. Exposed to the air, the spots of skin that had been previously covered by barnacles now began to itch. The behemoth could see nothing more than the sky and the constantly advancing and retreating boundary of the ocean. 

A thick tear was elicited from the eye by the cauterizing air and the behemoth's exposed skin was beginning to feel uncomfortably dry, so it rolled back into the seawater, the touch of which was welcoming and cool, and submerged. Beneath the waves, the shadow of the submerged behemoth resumed moving, swiftly enough to impress a muted wake upon the surface, some twenty feet above. Northwest it swam, towards the North American continent. 


	2. Chapter 1

"Gunnm" and all its associated concepts are the creation and property of Yukito Kishiro, hallowed be thy name.  
  


As for the story, it revolves around the AR series, so if you've only seen the Battle Angel anime or if you're expecting a story about Alita herself, you might be disappointed. By the way, my most up-to-date fanfics can always be found at my homepage. Finally, any response/criticism/accolade will be received with respect. So feel free to contact me at astillar@yahoo.com. Anywho, I hope you enjoy reading this.

***

A threatening wave of consciousness surged against her non-thought and she tensed. The danger seethed and gurgled against the fence, bulging through the gaps, then faltered and faded away, clawing against the walls as it fell back into oblivion. She waited for a long time afterwards before relaxing. She had been waiting a long time and her mind was starving for engagement and it was growing more difficult to keep her thoughts clear. These panic attacks were brought on by her mind turning on itself in a cannibalistic frenzy. She opened her eyes to feed it the pale meal of vision. 

A slanted square of light cut high on the blank wall across the room. She had come to learn how to tell time simply by noting the position of that square, but she ignored what it currently read. She knew all too well what time it was and how much of it she had spent waiting here. Her days were linked into one long silent trial and despite the discomfort each one promised, she did not dread them. Her eyes moved away from the light. 

Her equipment was neatly piled in the corner. She knew the heft, balance, shape, sound, and smell of every piece although it had been a veritable eternity since she had last used them. The weapons that felt natural in her hands, yet she could not so much as touch them without permission. The room slid across her field of vision as she moved her head. Covered by a thin veil of dust, the floor shone dully under the illumination of the single bulb in the ceiling that burned at all hours. A few black flakes littered the tile underneath the bench she sat on. She glanced at the camera in the corner of the ceiling. It was trained on her, as she knew it would be. 

The idle time had allowed her to understand her value, which was determined by her usefulness to her masters. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to ensure her continued existence and probably never would be. All of her being drove her to meet the needs of her masters and the knowledge that she couldn't made her despise herself. 

She could hear the sound of the wind rasping faintly against the window above her head and feeling an irrational impulse, stood up to look outside before she could think the better of it. Her ears heard the whirring of the camera as it repositioned itself bet she ignored the sound. Her attention was filled by the panorama outside. A cruelly tortured boulder a few feet away completely occupied the view. With each gust of wind, airborne snakes of sand flew into view and disintegrated against the rock. Her hand moved of its own accord to splay against the reinforced glass. Entranced, she watched the countless golden grains tumble down the rough face and out of view. The window creaked as it flexed outward against its frame. 

[Zero-B.] 

She whirled around and snapped into a rigid stance. A cloud of dust rose from her hair at the quick movement. 

[Take up your equipment. You have a new mission.] 

A feeling of peace and security that can come only from knowing one's purpose wrapped around her as she put on her armor. In seconds she was fully prepared and listened to her orders raptly as panic waited for the doors to be opened. 

The waves crashed against the cliffs and died as valiant sprays of foam. In the rare moments when the jetsam cleared, it revealed the deep blue indicative of a great depth. From the cacophony of the breakers, the stone dove through the water and dwindling light to the silent depths of the ocean floor. The dark rock of the cliffs was streaked white from the guano of kittiwakes that nested in the crags. Those white birds with black wingtips were perpetually wheeling and spinning through the air to plunge into the water in pursuit of fish, which in turn fed off of the creatures that lived on the submerged stone face. The bluff offered a broad view of the ocean, pushing the horizon back by miles when the sea mist was not present. At this hour the surface of the sea glittered from the descending sun and those standing at the edge of the cliff had to shield their eyes against it. 

"It's not my fault if you get in trouble!" yelled a small tanned boy for the third time. Next to him crouched a larger boy who was quiet with concentration. 

"Quit yelling!" came a shout from beyond the edge of the cliff. Below the edge another boy dangled at the end of a rope, a rope that now felt dangerously slender in his hand. He held that rope tightly with one hand as he kept himself steady with his other. The rock was hot and rough against his bare feet as he sidled across the face. The swirling flight paths of the seabirds changed and their calls became more agitated as the intruder neared their roosts. He had been planning this for nearly a week and knew that it had to be around here somewhere. "Gimme more rope, Ganbe!" He could just hear a grunt from above as more rope was let out. He clutched at the mass of knots that connected his waist to the rope as he took a stomach-lightening drop. As he descended, his foot touched something soft and scratchy. "Okay, okay, Ganbe!" He heard another grunt as the rope's release was arrested. 

He looked down at the meager nest just below his waist. Guano, feathers, and other filth littered the rock around the nest and to the boy's delight, a pair of eggs was in it. They were beige and speckled black, he noticed as he hunted for the biggest. Out of the side of his eye, he saw the surging sea far below and hastily grabbed one to put in his breast pocket. Shaking fingers fumbled to button his pocket before he called to the top again. "Okay guys, I'm ready!" With the help of his friends up above, the boy was able to make it back up to the top. 

He found them breathing heavily and lying on the ground. "You weigh a ton Aric," panted Tillean, the smaller of the two. 

Aric was too preoccupied with the reassuring feeling of solid ground to respond. He got up slowly and moved away from the edge. "I got it," he said in a voice as unsteady as his legs. He sat down after having gone only a few steps. "I got it." He undid his breast pocket and removed the egg. It felt surprisingly light. 

Tillean crawled over to view the prize. "It's small," he said. "And dirty." 

Aric rubbed off the grit so that the egg shone. 

"You only got one?" Tillean continued. 

"Yeah." 

"I thought you were going to get one for each of us." 

"You can go down next and get your own." 

" . . . One's okay." 

"We're gonna teach it to catch fish for us, right?" asked Ganbe who now stood behind them with the coiled rope. 

"And to carry secret messages." 

"And what else?" asked Tillean. 

"Tricks too. Like loop de loops and dives and stuff," answered Aric. 

"Aw, all the other birds can do that already." 

"But this one will be better." 

"What are we gonna name it?" asked Ganbe. 

"Uh . . ." Aric had overlooked this necessity. 

"Fireball," volunteered Tillean. 

"Fireball?" 

"Yup, Fireball. It sounds cool. And fast." 

"I don't know . . ." 

"Fireball sounds okay to me," said Ganbe. 

Aric disagreed but didn't say so. "Where's the box Ganbe?" 

"Oh yeah. I'll get it." He came back with a black-colored cardboard box and opened it. Aric dug out a small burrow in the cotton for the egg while Tillean watched with an uncomfortable expression; they had raided his mother's bathroom for those cotton swabs and she had yet to find out. Aric placed the egg inside and closed the lid. 

"Bingo. Okay, let's get this back to the clubhouse." 

Zero-B patted the slope of coarse sand at the base of the rocky outcropping and the responding dull echo was the only sign of the weapons buried underneath. She rose and surveyed the valley below, brushing the dust from her scored palms as she did so. 

The closest rows started just a few meters away, squat and gnarled trees with smooth-looking bark. The verdant green of the trees looked quite unnatural after days of unbroken grays and browns. Despite the harsh sun in the cloudless sky beating down on the earth, the trees showed no signs of submitting to the heat. Quite the opposite, their shiny waxy leaves seemed impervious to the heat. The rows radiated from a large congregation of dully-colored buildings in the center of the valley floor and ascended the sloping sides to just short of where she stood. The valley itself sloped towards the west and the trees ended where the soil gave way to rock, a few hundred yards before an abrupt cliff. Beyond that lay a slowly undulating plane of blue-green that stretched to the rounded horizon. Although she had traveled afar during her years of service, she had never encountered anything remotely similar to what lay to the west. It wasn't only unfamiliar, but wholly alien to her. She had noticed a change of scent in the air the day before and now that strange smell dominated the gusting breezes coming from the west. The glittering expanse tempted her eyes, pulling them away from her objective below. 

A mental blink caused a map to superimpose itself upon her vision under the pretense of re-checking the location. The map verified this Farm as her destination, but her attention was on what the map defined the strange field as. A blue topographical line marking the discontinuity was the only information she could find and the map disappeared as she returned to examining the lay of the land. 

An inland road ran eastward from the town out of the valley and the only fork wound its way to the other side of the far mountains. The discolored sky above the mountains marked the location of the mine at the end of that road. A dirt road ran in the other direction from the town to an accessible beach, where the docks housed about a dozen craft of various sizes. A pumping station stood some distance to her left and the concrete irrigation ditch it serviced lay just before her feet, currently occupied only by a thin bed of loess. 

She could feel that her operator was not currently with her and hesitated. It seemed logical that her next task would be to enter the town to better determine its strategic strengths and weaknesses, but her orders had been vague. Vague orders left room for error and the blame for any error would be laid at her feet. Zero-B stood there and let the seconds pass, in case her operator might again assume command. The wind continued to rise and fall as she waited, carrying with it dust and the scent of salt. The presence of the operator did not arrive. Inactivity could be read as disobedience and so it was with uneasy reluctance that she crossed the ditch and began walking towards the town. 

Zero-B took care to listen for the arrival of her operator, but found her attention drifting to the multitude of leaves around her rustling in the wind. Leaves didn't exist in the desert and being surrounded by so many at once filled her eyes and ears. She knew that allowing herself to be distracted was a transgression of her duties and this knowledge only made her feel more uneasy and desperate for guidance. 

She could now see the side of a building through the opening at the end of the rows and stayed close to the trees to hide her silhouette from a possible watcher within the town. She knew it was foolhardy to carry out reconnaissance during the day, but could think of no better use of her time. Even with her ability at stealth, it was difficult to avoid leaving footsteps, as the hard-baked soil often broke under her massive weight. She heard something on her right and froze. The sound of footfalls was swiftly approaching. Zero-B flipped up her hood, ducked under the umbrella of foliage of the nearest tree, and dropped to the ground, her camouflaged cloak disappearing into the bed of dead leaves once it settled. The pacing of footsteps alternated, slowing every time the maker crossed into the open between the trees and then quickening as it hurried through the branches and leaves, mindless of the noise it created. The target seemed to be avoiding visual detection, while unconcerned with audio signals. Zero-B noted this and shifted her weight in preparation for a possible discovery and her responding attack. She glanced at the last set of footprints she had created and then returned to watching the trees where the target would emerge. 

Aric leaned out from the screen of the tree's foliage and looked down the row. No one was visible, so he continued. There usually weren't many people on this side of town unless they were working in the groves, but Aric wasn't going to risk apprehension when he was so close to getting away with his grand caper. 

"Okay, hurry up guys." He said as he lead them out of the row of trees to the dirt road beyond. On the far side of the narrow road was a small unpainted shed. A concrete foundation rose from the barren soil and from that, many pipes, which in turn entered the wall of the shed. This outbuilding was the boys' destination. The door was locked by a simple length of wire twisted around a nail, which they quickly undid before entering. There were no windows, but the clapboards nearest the concrete had long ago rotted away, thereby allowing a fair bit of light to enter. In the shadowy light the boys wriggled around the numerous pipes, handles, meters and miscellaneous tools toward the back where there was an open space about thirty feet square, their clubhouse. 

The three boys had made this place their own as best as they could. Bits of carpet served as chairs, there were candles and matches, the empty wrappers of snacks, a few thin books and some dismembered toys that were too far gone to make the trip back home. They sat down in the empty corner, with their prize. 

Ganbe got the matches to light a stub of candle and then placed that in the middle of the floor. Tillean pulled the largest book from the pile and opened it where it was bookmarked and leaned towards the gap near the floor so he could read by the outdoor light. The other two waited quietly. Aric opened the box just enough to peek and closed it again. 

Tillean's lips moved silently until he found what he was looking for. "'The majority of birds ges-ge-ges . . . tate their young at temperatures ranging anywhere from twenty to thirty degrees Cen-Ti-Grade,'" read Tillean from the encyclopedia. He closed the book. "We need twenty to thirty degrees of centigrade for the egg." 

"Ah, don't close it. Does it say more about seagulls?" Aric asked while Ganbe rummaged around for the thermometer they had brought here earlier. "Does that say centigrade?" he asked once Ganbe had found it. 

Tillean looked up from the pages he was flipping through to shout, "Hey! Be careful with that!" 

"Be quiet Tillean," ordered Aric. 

"No you be quiet. If you break that, I'm gonna get in trouble. And I'll tell on you," he threatened. 

"You better not or I'll beat you up," Aric threatened in return, half-rising from his seat. 

"Then give me back my thermometer." 

"You can have it when the bird hatches." 

"Nooo," wailed Tillean. "I need it back tonight. Before my mom finds out I took it." 

"She won't find out if you don't tell her, stupid." 

"It's mine," stated Tillean as he made a grab for the thermometer. 

Aric pulled it out of reach and said, "Not now. Just wait." 

Tillean pulled on the arm that held the thermometer, only to have Aric switch hands. Aric fended him off with his free hand and soon the two began wrestling in earnest. 

Ganbe watched them wrangle on the floor. Tillean kept yelling, "Give me it, it's mine!" while Aric kept answering, "Just wait, just wait," but Tillean wanted his way. They struggled with difficulty, but the thermometer was always kept clear of the feud by an outstretched arm. The candle was knocked over and rolled along the floor, spilling an arc of molten wax. Ganbe picked it up, blew it out, and waited for them to finish. A fist knocked over the stack of books also and Ganbe sighed at the growing mess. "Somebody is going to hear you, " he said. 

This warning was enough to halt the red-faced wrestlers. They froze in their tangle, listening for their discovery. Tillean afraid that his mother knew what he had filched from home, Aric afraid that his father wanted him and was looking for him. Tillean was the one on the floor and was able to look out through the space between the boards and floor. All he could see was the dusty ground and the bottom of the trees. No adults. 

"There's nobody out there," he said. 

"There could've been," shrugged Ganbe. 

Aric climbed off of Tillean and sat back down, hiding the thermometer from view. "That's why I told you to be quiet, stupid." 

"You be quiet too, stupid." muttered Tillean, getting up. 

Ganbe re-lit the candle and returned it to its spot in the middle of the floor. "Is the candle gonna keep the egg warm enough?" 

Aric looked at Tillean, who crossed his arms and set his jaw. Aric pulled out the thermometer and brought it close to the candle. Aric and Ganbe peered at the markings along the thermometer and noticed that the mercury was in the high thirties. "Oh no," moaned Aric. "It's going to fry it." 

Ganbe crooked his head. "I think it's hot because it was in your hand." 

"Oh." 

"Just don't hold it with your fingers." 

Aric stacked the books again and leaned the thermometer against them near the candle. They began watching the thermometer again. It took a long time, but the mercury slowly slid down and dipped below thirty. 

"Ha ha!" shouted Tillean, who had also been watching. 

Aric clapped a hand to his ear. "Ouch. Be quiet." 

Tillean covered his mouth. "Mm orry," he apologized in a muffled voice. 

"Okay, okay, we just leave this here like this and it'll hatch." 

"How long is it going to take?" 

Aric shrugged. "Maybe tomorrow. All we have to do is check." 

Aric patted his hands against his lap idly, at a loss for what to do next and even Aric seemed to have run out of ideas. 

Then Ganbe spoke. "What is it going to eat?" 

Aric brightened. "Oh yeah, we have to get some worms for the chick!" 

Tillean looked doubtful. "But it's a seagull. Don't they eat fish?" 

Aric shook his head. "No. Seagulls eat fish, chicks eat worms." 

"Okay," replied Tillean. "Where can we get worms?" 

"We need to get a shovel first. Let's go get one," answered Aric as he led them out of the shack. 

On the way out, Tillean offered, "My dog's got worms . . ." 

Within the darkness and renewed silence of the deserted shack, a shape divulged itself from the shadows beneath the pipes and stepped out into the clear space of concrete. Zero-B looked down at the makeshift crib at her feet and then at the short candle and bits of toys strewn about on the floor. Her cloak pooled into a pile on the dusty concrete floor as she knelt to examine the stack of books. She moved the thermometer aside so that she could pick up the book on the top of the stack. She turned it in her hands so that she could read the cover, the corners of which were blunt and frayed. "Jonathan Livingston Seagull" read the title. 

Aric dropped the bucket again and stopped. The handle fell to the side with a clack once he let go of it and looked at his hands with a frown. His palms were an aggravated pink and creased from the load. The bucket full of dirt was almost too heavy for him to carry and he could only go for a few steps at a time before the discomfort in his hands made him let go. He looked up from his hands to see how much farther he had to go. 

He was far within the trees of the grove. Only a small section of buildings was visible through the opening at the far end of the row. In that direction, in the dirt, lay many circular depressions left by the bucket he was constantly dropping. In the other direction, the row extended a bit further before intersecting the dirt road that led to the pump house. Aric was sweaty; the sun was high overhead and at full strength. The effort was tiring him, but every time he stopped, he imagined a hungry baby bird all by itself and found himself able to continue. With a grunt, Aric picked the bucket up again and took a few more steps. 

He pushed the door open with the bucket and dropped it on the floor with an explosive sigh. For a moment he relished the feeling of relief in his hands that wanted to curl into claws after that exertion then he pushed the bucket further inside so that he could enter the shady interior also. He shut the door behind him and paused to listen for chirping. Despite what his imagination had prepared him for, there was no chirping and there was no baby bird waiting for him and he felt a bit of disappointment. He got over his disappointment within a second and began pushing the bucket towards the back, speaking loudly over the scraping noise to the unhatched chick. 

"If you want to come out, it's okay. We're ready for you," he said. "That's why we were digging all day. Ooof!" grunted Aric as the bucket caught on a crack in the concrete slab and stopped. He wiggled the bucket loose and continued pushing. "Look what we got for you!" 

"What is it?" 

Aric froze on the edge of flight. The unfamiliar mature voice instantly reminded him that this building was off-limits to kids and he knew he had been caught red-handed. Slowly, he looked up, afraid to face the adult that had caught him. 

Aric did not recognize who stood before him and was so surprised that he stood staring at the stranger, totally agog and mindless of the countless warnings he had heard about strangers. 

The stranger stood in the middle of their club, taller than him, but not by much. She wore bulky faded clothes similar to what the merchants of the desert caravans wore and on top of that, a cloak mottled gray and brown. Aric was only ten years old, but he could see that she did not have much of a figure. In fact, she was so slight and small that if he did not know better, he would have guessed she were a teenager. Her face however, kept him from thinking that. Though her face was unlined by age and almost cherubic in appearance, her eyes were completely devoid of any youth or vitality. They were expressionless and unblinking. Though she looked directly at him, it felt like the sightless gaze of a blind person and this made Aric feel uncomfortable before her. He could not meet her gaze for more than an instant at a time and with eyes averted, "Who-Who are you?" he stammered breathlessly. 

The stranger cocked her head to the side at a slight angle, considering him, considering his question, still with those empty eyes and then she straightened. "This . . ." Her voice sounded equally empty and faint, like dust on stone. "Is an acceptable transaction." She spoke slowly; her lethargic speech lacked any phonetic rhythm. "Unit designation is AR prototype Zero-B." 

"Serobi?" repeated Aric. He dared a longer glance. She was still staring. 

"Affirmative." intoned the stranger. She lifted her hands from her side, each of which held a book. One was a thick, heavy tome, the other a thin book. "Are you familiar with these books?" she asked, with strange emphasis on the last word, as if she had never said it before. 

Aric looked at what she held. One was the dictionary they had been using earlier, the smaller book was the only other one they had found about seagulls. Aric scratched his head; her question seemed too simple to answer. "Yeah?" he replied. 

Serobi nodded woodenly, but did not say anything further, only watched him. 

"Uh . . . What about them?" 

Serobi nodded again and held up the encyclopedia. "This book was useful." She lowered the encyclopedia and held up the smaller book. "This book . . . Zero-B did not understand. What is the utility of this text?" 

Gaining a bit of confidence, Aric stepped forward to turn it so that he could read the cover of the book in question. "Oh," he said. "This book is kind of for fun. It's a nice story." 

"Nice story . . ." repeated Serobi as if that were not the answer she had expected. She looked at the book to reconsider it, then back at the boy. 

"Where'd you come from?" asked Aric, starting to feel more at ease with this stranger. 

The cyborg swept her cloak clear and sat down on the bare concrete floor with legs crossed, setting the books in her lap. "Zero-B came from the north and west. Zero-B is not permitted to divulge more information than that." 

Aric sat down as well, with an inkling that this person had a fantastic story. Her eyes were no longer quite so intimidating, but still difficult to meet directly. "From the Scrapyard?" he asked quickly. 

"Your question must be purchased with an answer first. Explain why this is a 'nice story'," she requested, gently touching the spine of the book in question. 

Aric hesitantly took the book from her, opened it, and began leafing through the pages, pausing to look at the ghostly sketches of seagulls in flight. He shrugged. "Well . . ." As he skimmed through the story, his talking became louder and more confident. " . . . It's about a bird that wanted to fly real good aaaaaand . . . he got in trouble, but he didn't give up and he wins in the end. He was the best. That's a happy ending." He shut the book with a clap. "That's why it's good." 

Serobi was silent and gave no indication whether that answer had satisfied her. After a moment, she blinked and answered Aric's earlier question, "Zero-B has never visited the Scrapyard." 

"Aw. Me neither. I hear it's crazy though. They say everyone there is a cyborg and ten feet tall. And that they eat brains and kill each other for fun." Aric rocked back and forth excitedly as he mentioned the tall tales. Zero-B did not follow his comment and instead asked, "Do you have more books?" She was now saying that word more easily. 

"Yeah, I got some," answered Aric. "Why, do you like reading? I like my comic books more, kinda cause they don't have so many words, but they're expensive, so I read Tillean's. My mom makes me do chores if I want money for comics." 

Serobi hesitated before answering and then spoke haltingly, as if speaking tired her. "Zero-B . . . recognizes . . . the utility of books. Would you . . . permit Zero-B to read your books?" 

Aric almost answered in the affirmative, but had an idea that was so clever that he smiled, then schooled his expression to one of indifference. "Yeah," he drawled slowly. "I guess I could let you read them . . . But why should I? I don't get anything from it." 

Serobi watched him flatly. 

Aric continued. "If I didn't have my books to read, I'd have to do something else." The cunning grin reappeared on his face and he threw down his ultimatum. "If I let you read my books, you have to play with me!" He smiled broadly, pleased with his own cleverness, wishing that Tillean or Ganbe were here to see how smart he was. But when Serobi did not agree, the smile began to slip and fade from Aric's face. She sat silent and Aric thought he might've asked for too much. He saw her index finger drift along the corner of the dictionary. Now that he thought about it, maybe she wasn't the kind of person it was safe to play with. He now recalled warnings about meeting strangers and became acutely aware of just how far away from home he was. 

Zero-B recited clearly, "Insofar as your company will not compromise the mission and or missions of AR prototype unit Zero-B in any way, or infract upon any Factory laws or regulations, the proposed transaction is possible . . . Are these terms acceptable to you?" 

Aric had no idea what she said, but it sounded to him like she was agreeing. "Yeah, yeah, that's good. Whatever you say." 

"Acknowledged. State your name so that unit Zero-B may finalize the agreement." 

"Aric," he answered with an out-stretched hand. "Nice ta meetcha, Ms. Serobi." 

Zero-B paused just outside the old pump house as Aric led the way. Standing on the blanched hard ground dotted with tufts of weeds and the pale blue sky overhead, Zero-B watched the boy head down the dirt alley towards the town, but did not follow. 

Aric noticed she wasn't following and turned around. "What's the matter?" 

Zero-B lifted an arm to point at the town. "Zero-B cannot be detected until required by mission parameters." 

Aric looked towards the buildings. "You can't go into town?" 

Zero-B lowered her arm. "Correct." 

Aric looked back at the town one more time and said, "Okay. We can go to my house." He turned away from the town and began heading towards home. After a dozen steps or so, he noticed again that Serobi wasn't following and stopped. "You can't go there either, huh?" 

"Correct." 

Aric frowned and thought; he wanted to go someplace more fun than this, but she didn't seem to want to go anywhere. While thinking of where they could go without meeting anyone, something else occurred to Aric. "You can't let anyone see you?" 

"Correct." 

"Even my friends? Ganbe and Tillean won't tell anyone about you if you ask em not to." 

"That is not possible." 

"Aw," moaned Aric. All of a sudden, Serobi's company lost a lot of its charm, now that he couldn't show her off to anyone. He began kicking at the dirt to uproot a weed at his feet. "Well . . . I guess we could go to the beach if you want." The weed toppled as its roots were exposed and broken by his shoe. 

Zero-B conjured up the map of the area but failed to find any locations by that name. "Where is this 'beach'?" 

"It's that way," answered Aric, jutting his thumb at the empty plain behind the grove. He watched her peer out over the plains and he had the feeling she would say no again when she spoke. 

"That is an acceptable option." 

Aric sighed dramatically. "Finally. Let's go." He turned and began walking in the direction of the beach. 

Zero-B caught up to Aric easily, as her strides were longer than his were and walked abreast of him. He tried walking closer, but every time he did, Serobi stepped away, constantly keeping a few feet of distance between them. 

Aric looked up at her while they walked between the rows of green trees. In the sunlight he could see her much better. Her hair was the most curious thing about her. It was short, only a few inches long, like a boy's haircut and the color was strange too, it looked very much like a coyote's fur, with orange, yellow, and black accents. However, that was not what drew Aric's eye the most. On the left side of her head, from her temple almost to the back of her skull, the hair was only a stubble, exposing skin crisscrossed by angry furrow and welts, as if it had been recently burned. In the middle of the injury was her mangled left ear of which most of the ear lobe and cartilage was missing. Aric grimaced as he imagined the pain it must cause her and asked with trepidation, "How did that happen?" 

Zero-B glanced at him but did not answer. 

"What happened to your ear?" 

After a few more silent steps Serobi answered, "The damage in question was incurred during a previous engagement . . . Unit Zero-B yielded undesirable results and the unit's status was consequently downgraded." 

"Does it hurt?" 

"Negative." 

"It looks pretty bad. Is your hair going to grow back?" 

Another pause. "Negative. The 'hair' of unit Zero-B was manufactured to optimize camouflage, durability, and to increase shock resistance for the skull. It does not grow." 

"Oh," replied Aric, nodding as if he understood. A trace of his frown remained; it certainly looked like it hurt. Ugly at the very least. He didn't like the way it looked so he went around to walk on the other side of her and she evaded his approach again. 

They left the edge of the grove and began crossing untouched desert terrain. Behind them the wall of green of the grove extended to the main road of the town, nearly a mile away. The dirt road was quickly lost from sight behind the slight contours of the land, but paralleled their path to the sea. Aric split his attention between looking out for rocks and thorny plants underfoot and his companion. She sure did look strange, Aric privately concluded again. The intermittent wind toyed with her hair and animated her cloak, but could not elicit a single blink from her, even when it came head-on. She was impressive, whoever she was. "Where are you from again?" 

"Zero-B is not permitted to divulge that information." 

"But not from the Scrapyard, right?" 

"Correct." 

"It's 'cause I never seen a person like you before." 

Zero-B glanced down at him but did not reply. 

As she strode along the hard ground and her cloak opened, Aric was able to catch glimpses of the clothing she wore. The bulky blouse and trousers were an indeterminate shade of gray and made of coarse cotton canvas. Her clothing looked very old, as the seams were stretched and the faded canvas worn paper-thin, where it hadn't already been torn and crudely patched back together. A black bodysuit showed through holes and gaps that had not yet been repaired. Besides being threadbare, her clothing and cloak were dirty and sported many old stains, some very dark. 

The state of her clothing coupled with her battered appearance led Aric to ask. "Are you homeless?" 

" . . . Correct," answered Zero-B. 

Aric nodded; her answer made sense. "Do you want to stay at my house?" Aric spoke before Serobi could do more than open her mouth. "Ah, I forgot. You can't let anybody see you." 

"Correct." 

"How come you let me see you then?" 

Zero-B looked him square in the eye without breaking stride. "That was an error." 

Rather than take offense, Aric smiled. "I'm lucky then. Or else no one would've known you were ever here." Zero-B looked back to the direction they were headed and declared strongly. "_No one_ will know that Zero-B was here." 

"Don't worry," replied Aric as he made the motion of zipping his lips shut, locking them, and throwing away the key. 

Just then the two of them reached the top of the rise of land behind the grove and Zero-B stopped stock-still. Aric stopped too and looked at her, not sure why she had stopped. "What is it?" 

Zero-B did not answer though, remaining silent and transfixed by the new sight before them. It was the living blue from before, but closer now and in detail. The texture was sharper now, accented with white animated wrinkles that slowly traversed the blue body. She could now see that it was not only blue, but green also, with areas of brown or yellow accents. At the edge of the blue body nearest their position, the white grew profuse and almost violent in its action, only to softly touch the limit of the land. Only the sky above could match the size and awe of what lay before them. Zero-B felt herself on the verge of being overwhelmed by its scope and hurriedly concentrated. 

"That is 'the beach'?" Zero-B asked. 

"Yup," answered Aric. 

"Does it pose any dangers?" 

"Well, if you can't swim, you better stay out of the water. And there's jellyfish too. I hate the jellyfish." 

"Understood." 

"Actually, that's not the beach down there. There's a really cool spot thattaways," he said, pointing to the empty beach north of their location. "They don't want us playing near the docks," he said, nodding towards the stone pier directly before them that extended past the surf into calmer, deeper water. The main road had re-emerged from hiding to connect to the docks, then angle south along the coast, out of sight. 

"Docks plural?" asked Zero-B, when she noticed only one. 

"Huh?" 

"Is there another of those structures?" 

"Oh yeah, but you can't see it." Aric pointed to the southern end of the coast. "The Factory dock is down that way. It's just below Ranger's Point. Can you see it?" 

Zero-B consulted her map, which confirmed the mountainous ridge to the south as that point. 

"We're not allowed to go there at all," continued Aric. "No kids at all." He looked back at the nearby dock. "The third one on that side . . . the little blue one, that one used to be my dad's. He had to sell it so we don't go fishing on it anymore. That's okay because boats make me sick . . ." Aric paused for a moment and then continued. "That one with the line on it is Mr. Cray's. It's spoiled pretty bad." He looked up at his companion to see if she was listening and continued. "All the really big boats are gone right now. They might come back in um, three days? Or what's today? I don't know." 

Aware of how exposed they were on this high point, Zero-B prompted, "Continue moving."


	3. Chapter 2

Two sets of footprints stretched out across the flat sand of the beach, running parallel to the surf. One was a faint trail of small bare feet and next to that was a deeper set of booted footprints, left by someone much heavier. A veil of surf swept over the broad beach, erasing the lighter set and reducing the deeper set to indistinct dents. The deeper set of footprints survived another wave, but by the fourth, all traces of the couple's passage had been erased and the sand was smooth again. 

The creators of those prints were now higher up on the beach, where the sand was dry and loose. The smaller one sat on a sun-warmed black boulder that jutted up from the sand, while his larger companion stood nearby. 

Zero-B focused on the horizon, magnifying it as much as her optical systems could but it remained a hazy wavy line. No rigging or sails interrupted the horizon; the ships must be very far out to sea. Her lenses relaxed and her vision pulled back to the calm bay. The incoming waves were barely clearing the reef not too far offshore, which broke the surface from time to time now that it was low tide. Due to the reef's prominence, the water between the reef and shore was relatively docile. "What of that?" she asked, gesturing towards the reef. 

Aric squinted to see what she was referring to and grinned. "Yeah, that's pretty cool, huh?" 

At the outer edge of the reef where they were both looking, a narrow derelict ship rose from the water at an unsightly angle with the bow completely clearing the water. 

"It was a long time ago that they ran aground there." Aric's brow wrinkled as he tried to remember the stories he had heard. "Mm, I don't know whose boat it was. I think pirates was chasing them, that's why they crashed." 

"That vessel is the property of no Farm resident?" 

"Um, I guess so. Sometimes some adults talk about towing it in. It's not broken up yet, so it's strong I guess, but they say it's too hard to get and they just leave it there." 

Zero-B focused on the ship. Waves constantly collided with the narrow hull, producing a booming sound with each impact but the ship did not tremble in the least, so tightly was it fixed. As the bow had been forced upwards by the reef, the stern had been driven down and with each wave, the rear of the boat was awash in saltwater. In this low tide, the slimy green seaweed that grew on the deck now swirled in and out with each wave. Even from the beach, it was easy to tell that the ship had run aground a long time ago. The skewed waterline of the boat was a large solid mass of barnacles and young coral while the upper half of the hull was black with age and slime. Only the listing walls of the pilothouse remained standing; the cavities left behind by windows and doors gaped emptily. Flocks of small marine birds had made this wreck their roost, preening and calling out between their fishing flights. The entire boat was dirty with guano, feathers, and other filth. "It has been abandoned," Zero-B confirmed. 

"Yeah," replied Aric. 

She looked at the derelict for a moment more, then looked at Aric and asked, "Can you lead Zero-B to the mine?" 

"The mine?" Aric replied, a bit surprised. "No, that's way too far away. Plus kids aren't allowed there by themselves." He spoke that answer like a reflex, but then paused and considered his companion, "How old are you, Serobi?" 

"Unit Zero-B has been in service for nine years, five months, and thirteen days." 

"No way!" Aric exclaimed. "You can't be nine years old!" 

Zero-B repeated firmly, "Unit Zero-B has been in service for nine years, five months, and thirteen days." 

Aric laughed. "Wow. I'm older than you." Serobi didn't reply and Aric's amusement faded. "So is Unit your first name? That's a weird name." 

"Negative." Zero-B looked inland, toward the mountaintops above the mining facility. Even with her enhanced sight, she could only make out the larger details of the mountain's face. 

Aric noticed what she was looking at and commented, "My dad took me there once. It's pretty big. I couldn't go inside though." He squinted up at the android. "Hey you wanna go play now?" 

Zero-B regarded him closely. "Play?" 

Aric nodded and slid off the rock into the sand. "Yeah. We can go dig up crabs and sandfleas or . . . go exploring or . . . I don't know. What do you want to do?" 

Zero-B had no answer for his question. 

"I guess you don't play very much, since you're homeless. Are you hungry? Do you need food?" 

"Negative." 

"You kind of talk like a Deckman, did you know that?" 

Again, Serobi did not reply, instead she watched the waves. 

Aric, however, was not so easily entertained and looked at her with dissatisfaction before exclaiming, "Hey! I know!" He eagerly shared his epiphany with Serobi. "We can build you a house, since you're homeless! This is great!" He became very animated and began looking about quickly and talking even faster. "Okay, okay, we can build it here," he said, spreading out his arms to estimate the size of the house. "And we can use driftwood. There's tons of it!" He ran over to pick up the nearest stick and bent down to begin drawing in the sand with the stylus. 

Over his shoulder Zero-B watched him sketch out the plans. 

When Aric looked up and saw that she wasn't doing anything he said, "Aw, what are you doing just standing there? We're gonna need wood for your house! Hurry up!" he ordered with a wave of his free hand. 

Zero-B straightened and looked down the beach, then unhurriedly walked over to the nearest piece of driftwood, picked it up, and returned to deposit it on the sand next to Aric. The Tipharean war machine continued this process while the boy drew in the sand. 

Unsatisfied with his plan, Aric smeared the sand drawing away and started again. He drew one large square room for the living room, a smaller attached one for the bedroom, an even smaller one for the bathroom and stopped. That didn't seem like enough, but he couldn't figure out what else the house needed. Aric moved his long bangs out of his face, but the wind just brought them back. He drew another bedroom, for guests. And a playroom. Then he drew a front and back porch and a fence to close in the backyard. Aric's calves hurt from crouching so he sat down and continued his drawing. He then drew a large circle close to the yard, to signify the pond they would dig. 

Aric scratched the back of his head. He was out of ideas, but the house still looked incomplete. "Hey, what else do you want in your-" Aric looked up to find Serobi. "No no no!" He yelled, leaping up from his seat. "That's too much!" 

Serobi had collected a lot of driftwood, mostly twigs and minor branches, and piled it immediately behind him. Now she was a few dozen yards down the beach, returning with an immense bleached tree trunk that she had wrested from the ground. 

Aric ran over to her. "What are you doing?" he asked incredulously. 

Zero-B stopped with the massive white trunk balanced on her shoulder. "You ordered Zero-B to gather wood." She looked at the trunk. "This is wood." 

Aric stopped just before her. "Yeah, but that's too much." He paused to take in just how big it was. The half that had been buried in the sand was covered with black slime. The trunk was bigger around than he was. "Uh, you better put it back." 

Zero-B turned around and walked back to where she had found it. 

Aric saw that with each step she sank into the sand up to her ankles, the saturated brown sand turning white as the water was squeezed out by her weight. Serobi dropped the log unceremoniously with a great thud where she had found it and came back to where Aric stood. His wide eyes remained on the massive log. 

"What more is required?" Zero-B asked. 

Aric blinked as the spell of amazement faded. "Oh, uh, nothing," he replied. He had been thinking of using rocks for the porch, but wouldn't dare ask her to get any, not with all these boulders lying around. "Wasn't that heavy?" he asked, his eyes straying to the tree trunk again. 

Zero-B glanced back at the log. "Negative." 

"Really? How much can you carry?" 

"The original specifications for unit Zero-B include a maximum static load bearing of approximately 12000 pounds or dynamic load of 8000 pounds. Current maximum dynamic ability is approximated at 5760 pounds," reported Zero-B. 

"Wow!" Aric responded, thoroughly impressed. "You're like GigaMan from the comics!" 

"Who is GigaMan?" 

"Yeah, he's the hero, because he's the strongest and best. But that's so awesome. I bet you could pick up . . . pick up a whole ship!" He exclaimed, spreading his arms wide. "You can pick up twelve thousands pounds, that's gotta be more than a ship!" 

"Negative." 

"What? You can't?" 

"Correct." 

"But you just said you could . . . Why can't ya?" 

"Mainly . . . inadequate maintenance." 

"You're out of shape?" 

" . . . Affirmative." 

"Ah well you just need exercise then. C'mon. You can help me make the house. That'll make you nice and strong." 

It was far into the night and the gibbous moon hung above the ocean, its light as cool as the mist coming off of the water and spreading scant dew upon the coast. Even in the darkness, the breakers continued their ceaseless assault of the land and Zero-B watched their tireless march. Soaked by sea spray, her clothes, cloak, and hair were heavy and hung slack against her body, for she had been sitting here in the aft of the abandoned ship for the entire night. Zero-B had the entire wreck to herself, since the sea spray deterred any birds from roosting here, but she remained where she was. The activity of the waves kept her attention occupied, but from time to time she broke away to review her surroundings. 

The beach lay not too far away, with the collapsed hut lying in the sand. The faint moonlight did not allow her to see much further inland than that, but she could make out the outline of the horizon. She had been watching the sky and sea for so long that she had seen the sky of stars slide into the darkness of the ocean with the rotation of the earth, something she had never noticed before. The mountain range defined itself against the heavens, as did the Farm. The town was entirely dark except for the blinking red beacon atop the Factory substation and the sighing of the night wind was the only sound to be heard. 

Though much of the world slept, Zero-B was disallowed true rest. As the G.I.B. never slept, so must their servants also remain vigilant. That meant that she was perpetually on alert, never resting, always prepared for combat. It was well past midnight and she had work yet to do, so she rose from her seat. Old unserviced joints protested as she walked to the front of the boat and shells and guano crunched beneath her boots. She reached the bow and setting her hand on the prow, jumped over the railing into the water below. The flat top of the reef lay beneath only a couple feet of water, allowing Zero-B to use it as a bridge to the beach. Zero-B paid no heed to the calcified coral that often crumbled beneath her boots and soon she was close enough to the shore that she was able to jump from the reef into the shallows up to her hips and emerge from there. With the firm sand of the beach under her feet, she looked back at the wreck's silhouette on the moonlit water before turning towards the town. 

Zero-B stood at the beginning of the empty strip of concrete that was the main road of the Farm town, listening for any unseen activity. The Farm town was asleep and nothing disturbed the quiet. The partial moon and stars overhead were just enough to render the shapes of buildings against the black sky. Zero-B activated her night vision to navigate the dark street. At the center of the town was the larger Factory substation, the only multistoried building in the entire Farm. On its roof the lone red beacon brightened and dimmed cyclically. Zero-B headed down the sidewalk on the side of the street opposite the substation. 

The Factory had built the concrete road and the houses lining it. Consequently, these houses were sturdy, utilitarian, and identical. The only difference between the cinder-block and concrete domiciles were the numbers above the doorways, as the residents were not allowed to personalize their homes. The houses to the rear of these, arrayed on the dirt roads and alleys radiating from the main avenue, were of a totally different nature. Many were made of native stone, cemented together into short, thick walls, sometimes punctuated by glass-less windows, while other homes were built of a hodgepodge of even cheaper materials. Though humble, these homes conveyed the stout integrity and humility of those within. 

Zero-B heard the quick jingling of a chain from one of the nearby yards and halted, immediately activating her sonic transducers. As soon as it rounded the corner of the house, the chained dog nearly fell over itself trying to run the other way, away from the ultra-high pitched sound the intruder was making. Upon seeing the effectiveness of this measure, Zero-B increased the volume of the silent sound and continued on her way. 

All of the windows and doorways remained dark as she walked further down the street. A herd of goats in a poorly-built corral got up en masse and moved to the corner farthest away from her. The soapwood fence listed from the weight of the goats as they bleated nervously and crowded each other, attempting to get away from the sound. Zero-B did not have the data necessary to formulate a signal to subdue that type of animal, as she had the dogs, so she simply ignored their unease. If not for the need to quiet the dogs, she would have been using her sonic transducers to scan the interiors of the houses. Though the houses were dark and quiet, that was no guarantee that people were not up and about. 

The sound of a door opening caused Zero-B to drop to a crouch and press against the nearest corner. Instinctively her hand went to her side where she kept her balisong, but it was buried in the earth far away. Within a moment Zero-B ascertained that the sound had not come from any of the nearby houses and she began expanding the area of her search for the disturbance. As she peered over the nearby short wall, she saw that someone had come out of the goat's house to check on the bleating livestock. Wearing nothing more than shorts, the man stopped at the open doorway to check on his livestock and peer out into the night. 

Zero-B knew that he could not hear the sound she made, and that he was blind in this darkness, but to be safe she deactivated her transducers. The goats paused momentarily and then forgot what had been frightening them and then began to spread out through the corral. The man shook his head and cursed at the animals before going back inside. 

Zero-B waited until the goats had forgotten their fear and bedded down once more. She then rose to continue on her way, this time moving with greater stealth. She reached the Factory substation without further detection but before entering, she made one final visual sweep of the street and then opened the door to step inside. 

The Factory substation operated twenty-four hours a day, three hundred sixty-five days a year. It never closed and to the Farm citizens that noticed, the locks on the door seemed pointless. Upon entering, Zero-B first shielded her eyes against the blind lights in the ceiling and swept the room for any late night company. The room was empty. The lack of furnishings seemed to emphasize the emptiness. The bare walls, raw concrete floor and silent buzz of electronica reminded Zero-B of her holding cell. Finishing her study of the room, she turned her back on it to lock the deadbolts of the doors. 

This action elicited a response from the Deckman built into the pedestal on the opposite side of the room. It wobbled and spoke, "Tsk, tsk, Miss. How am I to receive gentleman callers now?" 

Zero-B ignored the Deckman's fermented sanity, an affliction they all suffered due in part to their perpetual insomnia, as she crossed the room to stand before it. "Sixty-four," she addressed it by its formal name. "Unit requests authorization verification for communications up-link." 

"Long distance or local?" replied the Deckman. 

"Level six, designation 92 minor." 

"Oooo. We don't get many calls from that neighborhood." One gloved hand smoothed down the imaginary hair on the Deckman's head as it improved its appearance while the other selected the necessary punch cards and inserted them into the proper slots arrayed before it. " . . . Authorization code please." 

"Unit number 71132-0B, authorization code BCDGW-RHQQ2-YXRKT-8TG6W-2B7Q8." 

"Verifying . . ." replied Sixty-Four. "Please note, intent and action by unauthorized individuals or parties to access limited channels is a violation of Factory law and offenders are subject to punishment described thereby." The Deckman tottered to one side after it had regurgitated the warning. "For your sake, I hope they accept the charges." It then leaned the other way and began humming a nonsense tune. 

A galvanized steel shutter fell from the ceiling to block the main entrance and hit the floor with a resounding clang. Zero-B's head snapped to, but before she could even move, she heard a similar sound of the exits in the rear of the building being sealed also. Most of the lights turned off, which left the room in dim gloom, except for the Deckman's illuminated workstation. 

It spoke in a grave tone bereft of its earlier idiotic personality, "Authorization validated. Security measures in place. Request granted." The Deckman's eyes dimmed and it was retracted into the base of its station, which then went dark. The door to Zero-B's right unlocked and came ajar and she entered that room. 

It was a small compartment, barely three feet to each side. A glow strip running along the edges of the floor provided most of the light, which was weak even to Zero-B's enhanced night vision. Most of the main wall was occupied by a display, which at this moment was a silent black, and below the display was a multitude of interface equipment. Zero-B knelt to search for her unique connection, her hand hovering above each as she searched. There were many unfamiliar types and she had no idea for what or by who they were to be used. 

When she found her link, she removed it from its niche in the wall and drew it to her wrist and connected it there, then clasped her hands to hold it in place. Once the connection was completed, the display began brightening and resolving itself into a picture. As soon as she could discern the outline of Control, Zero-B bowed her head to avoid eye contact. The display continued to brighten until the small room was suffused with its glow. 

[Prototype Zero-B. . . . What is the reason for this missive? This type of independent action is not condoned for a unit of your status.] 

[Understood. Control, the unit requests confirmation of active orders, as prior ones have been satisfied.] 

[Satisfied? Hmph, hardly . . . Why do you want new orders? Are you in a hurry to be retired?] 

Zero-B's eyes widened in alarm at the import of that statement, but she could not directly answer. [Zero-B is to be of service.] 

Control sighed. [Of course. Your current orders are to be ready for possible enemy contact within the next thirty-two hours, in the vicinity of Farm #3.] 

Zero-B nodded in acquiescence. [Are there any standing orders for the unit until then?] 

[_Until then_,] responded Control in an irritated tone. [you are to not disturb Control again. Is that enough?] 

[Zero-B exists only to serve.] 

[Hmph. This act of misbehavior will be submitted for judgement. Control end.] 

The display winked out and the small room was returned to darkness, but Zero-B kept her head bowed. She broke her joined hands and returned the link to its niche. She then rose and departed the room. 

The shutter had been raised and the lights returned to full brightness by the time she exited the booth. Sixty-four had returned to duty and greeted her cheerily. "I had the most wonderful dream during my nap, Miss. How are you?" 

Zero-B looked up at the cybernetic servant dully. "Unit Zero-B was not here. Deckman unit Sixty-four will delete all pertaining information from its records. This is as ordered under article 617.4 of the Terrestrial Operations Act." Hardwired to obey just she was, Zero-B did not have to wait to see if the Deckman complied. Instead she went to the main doors and unlocked them. 

"Awww," protested the Deckman as the compulsory deletions began. "But it's my first dream since I can ever remember . . ." 

Pulling the door closed behind her, the Deckman's comment stayed her hand for a moment, "It is not for our kind to dream," she replied. 

It wasn't until late morning that Aric was able to get away from his chores, eluding his mother's attention while he sneaked out of the house . He hurried to the rear of the shed behind the house and knelt down to reach behind some lumber leaning against the wall and pull out a bag that he had hidden there the night before. The bag was heavy and expressed with square bulges. He carefully leaned out past the corner of the shed to make sure the coast was clear. His mother was still inside the house, so he made a break for it and ran for the grove. 

Once he gained the cover of the grove, he stopped running. The bag was much too heavy to do that for long. He continued to hurry though. Not only to give his mother less time to discover he was missing, but mainly he wanted to see Serobi. He had gotten up extra early to do so, but hadn't been able to get away until now. The pump house came into view and Aric increased his pace, the heavy bag threatening to trip him each time it rebounded against his calves. Within a few moments he was at the door and barely hesitated before entering. 

The interior was dim, but Aric knew the layout well enough that he was able to go to the back without running into anything. The candle had burnt itself to nothing, but otherwise, everything was how he had left it yesterday. He set the bag down on the floor and looked around the cramped area. "Serobi? Are you here?" He could not find her and Aric felt disappointed by her absence. Sitting on the floor, he upended the bag and spilled the books out. They were all the books that he had, plus some of the thicker ones that his parents read, but not often enough that they would notice they were missing. As he was stacking the books into a pile, he came across one that he still liked and began reading it, completely forgetting about how he needed to get back home quickly. 

When the door of the pump house slammed open, Aric jumped straight up in alarm. Hurriedly he shoved the books back into the bag, but the person was too quick and upon him in a second. 

"Whatcha doing Aric?" asked Tillean. 

Aric nearly collapsed with relief. "Oh, Tillean . . . Don't ever sneak up on me like that!" 

"What did I do?" Tilleas asked defensively. 

"Ah, what do you want already?" Aric demanded, eager to get Tillean to leave, in case Serobi was coming. 

"I came to check on the bird. How's it doing?" 

"It's okay," replied Aric, though he had totally forgotten about it. He rose and began shooing Tillean out. 

"Hey. Quit it. I want to see it myself." 

Aric yielded, thinking it would be faster to let him have his way. "Alright, hurry up," he said as he prompted him to the black box. 

"Why do I have to hurry?" 

"Ah, quit asking questions and look at the egg." 

Tillean picked up the thermometer. "I'm taking this too," he stated. 

"All right," agreed Aric. 

Tillean looked a bit surprised by the effortless victory and nodded, a bit unbalanced. "Yeah. Right . . ." 

"The egg?" Aric reminded him. 

"Oh yeah." Tillean turned around to face the box and knelt. "Has it hatched yet?" 

"Do you see a bird anywhere?" 

Tillean opened the box. "Hey! What'd you do?" 

"What?" 

Tillean picked up the box to show its emptiness to Aric. The cotton bed remained, but the egg was gone. "What'd you do with the egg?" 

Aric was just as surprised as Tillean and had no answer to offer. 

Tillean was quicker and said, "It did hatch, didn't it? You're hiding it because you don't want to share Fireball with the rest of us. Where is he?" 

"I don't have the bird," Aric answered. 

"Yeah right." Tillean dropped the box and began looking around the floor for bits of eggshell, or the chick. "That bird's mine too. And Ganbe's," he amended. 

Aric picked up the box to poke through the cotton, to make sure it wasn't just hidden. "Maybe a rat ate it." 

"Nuh-uh. You took it," insisted Tillean, who was on all fours, peering beneath the pipes and bracing. "I'm gonna tell your mom." 

"I didn't do anything," Aric defended. "Maybe Ganbe has it," he said randomly. 

Tillean paused and then sat up. "Maybe . . ." 

Seizing upon this defense, Aric continued, "Go ask him. He lives closest, anyways." 

Tillean regarded Aric suspiciously. "Alright. But if he doesn't have it, I'm still going to tell your mom that you stole the egg." 

"It's not like it's yours anyway," retorted Aric. 

Tillean got up off the floor and looked at the bag have full of books. "And don't take my books either," he said as he left. 

"I don't want your stupid books!" Aric shouted at the closing door. He grumbled for a minute or so after Tillean had left, still riled up over being accused of stealing. Once he had cooled off, he looked at the half-full bag of books and wondered if he should leave them here for Serobi or if it would be better to take them back home. He decided on the latter option and sat down on the floor to begin putting the books back in the bag, which he did in a sulking manner. Two disappointments in one morning and being accused of stealing left Aric in a foul mood. "I hope a rat got it," he muttered. He hefted the bag over his shoulder and looked around the floor for any books that he might've missed. There were none, so he left the shed. 

Aric paused just outside the building, as the sunlight was momentarily blinding. Once his eyes had adjusted, he began heading home but before he had taken two steps, he sensed something behind him and stopped. "I said I don't have your stupid egg, Tillean," Aric said as he turned around. 

Serobi stood before him. 

Though Aric was still squinting against the sunlight, it looked to him like she was smiling. "Hey Serobi! You're here!" 

"Correct." 

Now that he could see her better, he abandoned his first impression. She wore the same stoic expression she always wore. Aric brought around the bag of books and offered them to her. "Here. I brought the books you wanted. This one's my favorite," he commented, pulling one free from the mass so that she could see the cover. "'The Land of Chewandswallow'. Just reading it makes me hungry." 

Serobi looked at the books and nodded, then looked him directly in the eyes with that paralyzing inhuman stare of hers. "Understood. Prior to that matter is another that requires your attention." 

"What?" 

"Follow," Serobi requested. Aric left the books on the ground and followed her around the shed and into the nearest row of trees. She did not have to bend the branches out of her way, simply turning to pass through without disturbing so much as a single leaf. Within the spread of the low-hanging branches she stopped and waited for Aric. 

"What is it?" he asked. 

She gestured to a fork of a branch where there was a nest. 

Aric stepped closer to find that there was a chick in there, sleeping. It was newly-hatched chick, mostly naked except for a few patches of fluffy down. It's eyes were still closed, but sensing them nearby, it began chirping anxiously. "Wow! Where'd this come from?" he asked, amazed. 

Serobi stood straight and answered. "That is your property. The conditions for its incubation were inadequate and corrected by this unit." 

"You hatched our seagull?" Aric asked with a smile. The picture he had in his head of a cyborg incubating an egg was funny. 

"Correct." 

Aric laughed and shook his head. "I don't get how there's a nest here. I've never seen one in these trees. The birds usually make them in the cactus." 

Zero-B replied, "That was constructed by this unit, as per descriptions in volume two of the encyclopedia." 

"You made it? That's awesome." Aric watched the sleeping chick. "Did you feed it too?" 

Serobi nodded. 

"Aw, but I better tell Tillean where it is, before he comes back. He's such a stick." He continued to watch the hatchling. "Does it look like a 'Fireball' to you?" 

Serobi did not answer. 

Aric looked at the chick again. "Me neither. It's too little for that." When he looked up, he noticed that Serobi had left the shade of the tree and was heading back to the pump house. "Hey, where you going?" he called out after her. 

Before she turned the corner, she responded, "To acquire the books." 

Aric ran after her and entered the pump house just as she was settling down to begin reading, the stack of fresh literature directly before her. "Hey, but wait," he said. 

She looked up at him and Aric paused; her eyes reflected the low light like an animal's. 

"Bu—Tillean's gonna probably come back, since the bird isn't at Ganbe's. And what you said about not wanting anyone to see you . . ." he reminded her. 

Serobi answered, "The boy will not find unit Zero-B, even should he look." 

"But I found you, and that was when you were reading too." 

Zero-B paused and then rose. "Understood." She continued to eye the books though. 

"You can take em with us, if you want. So long as you don't lose 'em." 

Serobi knelt to carefully pick up the books and cradled them in her arms. "Proceed." 

Swollen by the sea wind's moisture, the pages of the book threatened to blow wildly, but Zero-B held them fast with her steel fingers as she read in the midday sunlight. Her other hand often strayed to pull back her hair, which also blew about in the wind and into her eyes. She paused in her reading to look up at her surroundings. It was the beach again, the same place as yesterday, though less alien than before. The scent of salt was as bright as the light and even with her polarizing filters, Zero-B had to squint when she looked at the ocean, whose surface was rife with glints of reflected sunlight. 

Aric was straddling the large tree trunk and was bent over one end, inspecting the worn stubs that had once been the main roots of the tree. He sat up and wondered aloud, "I wonder where this tree came from?" 

Zero-B looked at him and followed his gaze out to sea. 

Aric scratched the top of his head as he looked at the faraway horizon. "Where do trees grow this big? On the other side of the ocean?" He looked back at the tree trunk he sat on, and pried up a piece of the softened wood. "Where do you come from?" he asked of it as he scrutinized the fragment, as if he could find the answer within the wood grain. Aric smiled and said to the large splinter, "Go back home!" He then threw the piece seaward but it fell short, landing in the sand. He dismounted the trunk to fetch the piece and threw it again, this time it entered the surf and disappeared from view. Aric waved farewell to the horizon as it departed and then turned around and walked to where Zero-B sat. 

He sat down next to her and she did not move away, instead examining him as he had the splinter. He brought his knees up to rest his hands upon, and on them, his chin. 

"Where were you born?" he asked her, his head bobbing as he spoke. 

Zero-B did not answer. 

"Have you ever seen a tree like that?" he asked, lifting a finger to point at the trunk. 

"Negative." 

"Mm." His gaze drifted from the trunk to his toes, which sifted through the sand. "I'd like to go across the ocean. To see birds and animals like in the books. There's a lot of stuff I haven't seen yet. That's why I want to be an explorer." He looked back at her, his head inclined. "Have you seen a lot of stuff Serobi? Like what they have in the north and west?" 

Easily she answered, "Much of the inland is desert with marginal flora and fauna, offering minimal concealment. The washes and mesas of the northern lands limit fields of fire. The sand fields of the south are to be avoided. Trafficability is virtually non-existent. There are no significant non-Farm villages." 

"That's desert too?" Aric confirmed. 

Serobi nodded and he sighed. "I'll build a boat and go explore the rest of the world. That's what I want to do when I grow up. I want to see it all." 

As part of her tactical database, Zero-B had been augmented with algorithmic recognition systems that could detect even the most subtle micro-expressions of a person. Usually this was applied to detect lies, or to discern the attitudes and thoughts of opponents so as to predict their actions, but at this moment, Zero-B could not identify the boy's expression. In all her years of service, she had not seen an expression like the one currently on the boy's face. He continued to look out to sea, but still she could not decrypt his face. " . . . Why do you not operate logically?" she asked. 

"Hm?" he said, roused from his reverie. 

"Many of your actions have minimal utility or strategic worth. These books," she said, holding aloft one. "Your seagull, your proposed voyage, for example. How these objects and activities facilitate your service to the Farm is unknown. Explain." 

Aric grinned. "Oh, I don't do it for the Farm or anything. I just do stuff 'cause it's fun. It makes me happy." He let slip a small laugh. "Why else would I do something?" 

"The unit recognizes the utility of happiness as it improves Factory worker production. Are there other applications?" 

Aric frowned. "You sure do talk weird . . ." His forehead furrowed as he thought hard. Serobi wasn't making much sense. "You don't—People don't try to be happy so they can work better, they want to be happy because . . . because . . . well, it's why we're here." 

"To serve the Factory." 

"No!" answered Aric, becoming a bit angry because Serobi was being difficult. "It's not about the Factory, it's about us. If you can't be happy, then why are you here? That's what everybody tries to do, to find a way to be happy." 

"The Factory is most important." 

Aric shook his head in disagreement. "No." He stated firmly. "The Factory is just a thing. People aren't born for the Factory. People are born to live free and be happy." 

"It is the duty of all Farm residents to serve the Factory." 

"No it's not," refused Aric. He paused and then pointed out, "What about you? You don't do any work. You're free and strong and go anywhere you want." 

"All earthbound exist only to serve. It is law." 

Aric stood up. "Law shmaw. I'm gonna be an explorer when I grow up. I can be anything I want!" 

"Your life is only for service to the Factory," Zero-B said matter-of-factly. 

Tears began to fill Aric's eyes. "No! I'm not staying here! I can do anything I want!" 

"You will obey for life." 

He made a fist and hit her as hard as her words had hurt him. 

Zero-B was unswayed by the blow and Aric clutched his injured hand, which he looked over to see if it was broken or bleeding. "Owww . . ." He looked up at her, the tears beginning to spill free. "What's wrong with you?" He cried. "Aren't you human?" 

Zero-B did not move or speak, only observed the unintelligible emotional display. 

Disgusted by the inhuman, Aric turned around and ran down the beach, back towards the town. 

Zero-B watched the small figure until it disappeared from view and then turned back to the book she held, finger still marking the place she had stopped reading. She did not resume reading however. Instead, she contemplated his last question. The sun continued its descent towards the western horizon but Zero-B was unable to find an answer.


	4. Chapter 3

Far to the south, far past the horizon many times over, lay an unspoiled beach. The only sound in the air was the unending susurrus of the breakers expiring on the broad firm plane of sand rising from the sea. The last of the ocean's momentum strained for and failed to reach the high line of brown-black seaweed and driftwood deposited by countless high tides. So ancient was the wreckage that the ground rose many feet behind the natural seawall, before the dunes began. Further in, sea oats and other hardy plants were the first claims upon the land, followed by fields of tough-skinned grasses and other plants that could tolerate the salty soil. 

That view ran to the horizon, a vast view of emptiness and insignificance. This is what Zero-B surveyed from the top of a rocky ridge that had broken through the soil. There was no trace of human impact upon this land, not a trail, tire track, or a single footprint. She consulted her map again, and again verified that this was the target. She could not however, discern the significance of this place. 

[Control, unit Zero-B has reached the target. Awaiting further orders.] 

[Roger. Standby for satellite recon information. End.] 

Zero-B stood at full attention on the small outcropping and surveyed the land surrounding her with a raptor's eye. The presence of her operator commanded flawless performance and execution. If she could detect the objective before being told, it might win her some rare praise. For all her concentration on the landscape, Zero-B paid just as much attention to the sacrosanct channel linking her to Control. Though this was far removed from both railroads and farms, Zero-B scanned the horizon for any vehicular dust plumes and listened. The bandits were out there somewhere. Her thoughts as silent as her surroundings, Zero-B continued searching while the minutes trickled past. 

[Zero-B.] 

[At your command.] 

[Target is approximately two point four kilometers at twenty degrees north-northwest. Acquire visual immediately. End.] 

[By your command.] Silence filled the channel and Zero-B set out at a steady run in the direction specified. As she ran, she noticed that the target lay in the direction of the congregation of seagulls. The distance to the target shortened quickly and soon Zero-B was no longer running on rocky soil, but through the soft sand of the beach and along the shore. Once she saw it she stopped running and slowed to a cautious walk. 

The seagulls had indeed shown her way to the target and even they seemed reluctant to approach it. The birds cried out as they flew, circling the large dark mass lying on the beach. One end of the thing lay in the surf and the main body of it stretched inland, all the way up to the loose sand and plants making it at least forty meters in length from end to end. Ridges of sand had collected around the perimeter of the thing, so it must have come to rest some time ago. As she came closer to it, she noticed that beneath the scent of salt lay another of decay. 

[Halt, Zero-B.] 

Zero-B obeyed and magnified her view to continue examining the target. Flies could be seen alighting on the desiccated hide, which had a faint pattern of darker ovals on the charcoal-colored skin. The narrow end that lay in the surf appeared to be tightly segmented for articulation and the tall caudal fin rose from the shallow water. Zero-B reviewed the segmented tail and then the wrinkled skin of the main body; it did not make sense. 

[Unknown species,] Zero-B reported. [What was that, Zero-B?] 

[The morphology of this creature references multiple orders of marine animals.] 

[Explain.] 

[The main body is covered with a skin normal for marine mammals, the segmented tail is similar to that of arthropods, while the caudal fin is of a fish's anatomical structure, Command. End.] 

There was a pause at the higher end of the channel. [How do you know this Zero-B? Such information is not included in your databanks.] 

[Field experience,] Zero-B answered evasively. She thought that mentioning the encyclopedias would invite a dangerous line of questioning.

[Hm. Continue surveillance. End.] 

Zero-B enabled her passive thermal imaging to better examine the target and her vision was painted in a false palette. The target was colored by a cooler band of colors, almost as cold as the seawater adjacent, signifying no internal activity. She disengaged the filter and waited for further instruction. 

The minutes passed as she waited and the seagulls requested her attention. A few continued to fly above the carcass, cawing loudly, but most of the flock had congregated near the cliffs behind her. The carcass seemed to agitate the birds still aloft, as sometimes one would land near it, only to take to the air again after a few pensive steps. Zero-B squinted to focus on the birds' behavior; it was not normal. According to the information of the encyclopedia, seagulls favored the ease of scavenging over hunting, but these birds would not approach the carcass. Zero-B thought to mention this oddity to Control, but decided it was of insufficient importance. 

[Permission requested to activate ultrasonic imaging.] 

[What? Oh, Zero-B. Repeat.] Zero-B repeated her request and Control responded in a disinclined tone. [System support will be allocated to unit Zero-B for fifteen seconds. Make it worthwhile, Zero.] 

[Understood.] Zero-B checked that her throat was clear, activated her transducers, and then reported, [Unit ready.] 

[Initiating ultrasonic imaging.] 

After a fraction of a second delay, bolts of pain shot up from the receivers in Zero-B's throat and she grunted as her hands instinctually went to protect her throat. Her modified vision pulsated in time with the surges of pain and she closed her eyes against it, but the assault continued. [Control! Error!] she managed to report. 

Unhurriedly Control responded, [Run auto-diagnostic IS-537.] 

Through the debilitating pain, Zero-B obeyed, but the cause of was not found. 

Upon receiving the diagnostic results, Control replied, [So it's not you, huh? Checking . . .] 

Zero-B bore through the staggering pulses in silence but began to sag from the exertion. 

[Hm. This interference is quite similar to the sonic frequency and types used for obsolete submarine sonar. That's a bit odd. Compensating . . ." 

The interference and with it the pain disappeared and Zero-B was able to stand upright again and open her eyes. Still in the wake of the assault, Zero-B did not immediately recognize what she saw. Her ultrasonic imaging was still in effect and falsely colored all of her vision in shades of blue. The whitest tints of blue correlated to low density and were the color of sea foam and clumps of seaweed, while rich, deeper blue denoted denser objects, such as the boulders and rocks in the area. This she understood, but the target was not properly colored according to the color scheme. It was a midnight black, far below the ordinary spectrum. Before Zero-B could alter the pulse to probe deeper within the target, the supporting link was cut and her vision returned to normal. 

It was then that she noticed the target was beginning to move. A loud sucking sound could be heard as it pulled itself free of the sodden sand that had partially buried it. With primal lurches, more and more of the creature appeared from beneath the sand, surpassing Zero-B's initial estimate of its size. Thick legs appeared from beneath to lift the great weight clear of the sand and the creature wavered for a moment, then leaned close to the ground. 

Zero-B took a step away from the waking creature. [Control?] 

[Standby for orders.] 

The entire creature shook as it began to vomit. Copious amounts of dark fluids spilled from its mouth and ran down the beach to mingle with the jetsam. The torso repeatedly contracted violently to expel the semi-solid waste and for many seconds that was all it did, disgorging upon the sand. 

The higher end of the Tuned channel remained silent throughout this spectacle. 

When it finally finished, the creature lifted itself up to stand properly on its rear legs and Zero-B could see the underbelly, where alien structures were amassed. Those and the legs it stood upon convinced Zero-B that this was no creation of Nature. 

Long dark strands of saliva still hung from the mouth lined with narrow carnivorous teeth as the head turned to face her. Zero-B could not see any eyes, but knew it could sense her presence. A hissing exhalation escaped its mouth, expelling gobs of spittle and the hissing became stronger, then deteriorated into a low bass growl. The growl was punctuated by coagulating coughs and Zero-B realized it was attempting to speak. 

In a guttural voice the beast spoke, "You are a child of Melchizedek, are you not?" 

Mention of the sacred name brought Zero-B to full alert. Such information was strictly forbidden to all earthbound and violation was punishable by immediate death. Poised to attack, Zero-B did not answer the beast but instead called out to the heavens for guidance. [Control?] 

The channel was polluted by static, a rare occurrence. [Standby for orders.] 

The creature stepped to face her fully. "So you are the ambassador sent to receive me. How fitting." 

"You are in violation of Factory law! Identify yourself!" demanded Zero-B. 

"Of course, I am the herald of the magnificent Lord Oda, Master of the South." 

Almost before it had finished speaking, Control broke in an alarmed voice bound by cables of static. [Zero-B! That is an enemy of the Factory and Tiphares!] The transmission was buffeted by the increasingly strong swells of static. [--not permit it to contact Farm . . . penetrate further inland. Do not destroy it! . . . iority to capture the target! Copy?] 

The channel was flooded with a dissonant squelch before Zero-B could reply and the link was lost. 

The creature spoke to her via the restricted airwave. [You are not my host but my intended executioner? What pathetic opposition you are.] 

"Interception, interference with, and unauthorized use of Factory frequencies is violation of Factory law!" Zero-B declared out loud. 

"The Factory rules here? That is provident. All of this land will come to serve my Lord and you shall be the first subject." At that, the beast took off at a lurching gallop, straight for unit Zero-B. Though the ground shook threateningly with the powerful impact of each stride, Zero-B calmly set into a stance and ground her feet into the sand. The gap between them shrank rapidly as the behemoth galloped straight for the small antiquated android. At a distance of thirty meters, Zero-B launched herself, gouts of sand exploded from her hammering footfalls. A wicked claw shot out to rend Zero-B, but she leapt and a fan of sand was sent upward as the claw found nothing. Carried by her momentum, Zero-B sailed over its arm and head and brought all of her power to bear in the palm of her hand as she buried the concussive force of Hertza Haeon into the beast's skull. A flex of her fingertips catapulted her into the air again and she landed in the sand behind the creature. 

As soon as she landed, Zero-B was forced to cartwheel backwards as the broad tail swung for her. It plowed into the sand and sent many hundred pounds of it into the air. Her retreating cartwheels brought Zero-B a fair distance away from the beast, which was now fully turning around. It left itself open to attack as it turned about, but Zero-B paused and the sand rained down on her. The joints of her arm had been painfully compacted by the blow she had delivered and as the beast turned around, she watched for the damage she had dealt it. The head swung around to find her and the broad forehead was undamaged, unblemished. Instantly, she reviewed the execution of her attack. It had been perfect, yet ineffective. The beast's brain should have been liquefied or at least suffering from massive hemorrhaging. It was then that Zero-B remembered the imaging data, that the creature was immeasurably dense. The compression of her right arm now made sense and she lead with her left as she prepared to renew her attack. 

The loose sand was not to her advantage so she strode over to the harder beach, keeping her eyes on the beast as she did so. With a glance, she identified the optimal path to her objective, to immobilize the creature. With a small hop, Zero-B set off running down the firm beach, increasing her speed as she ran parallel to the surf, towards the right of the beast. Cloak whipping behind her in the wind of her run, Zero-B turned hard, cleaving the sand and launched herself at the beast. 

It responded with a broad palm ringed with razor-sharp talons rushing to meet her. Zero-B caught one of the broad digits and swung past the claw and released, now a missile aimed for the brute's inner ankle. Her body was locked in-line with the trajectory, a single missile. Zero-B's locked feet collided with the inside of the beast's ankle, stopping her dead as all of that force was transmitted to the vulnerable joint. 

Zero-B commanded her legs to obey and lift her, shaky as they were from the impact. The ankle had not budged, had not yielded, had not even deformed from the force of her blow. It had been like . . . hitting steel with a fist of flesh. Rather than incapacitating her enemy, it was Zero-B whose ankles were failing. This realization took all of a millisecond before Zero-B formulated a secondary attack and glanced up to set herself for another attack. The beast had only just begun to turn. She reached all the way back and drove her fist into the weak groin between leg and pelvis with all the force she could muster. Immediately an alarm flashed on her internal display. "Longitudinal hairline fracture detected in left radius. Repair advised." Again, her attack had been ineffective and Zero-B was forced to dart out from beneath the belly of the creature as claws that rent the sand in search of her. 

The beast retrieved its claw and regarded the empty palm for a moment, before lifting its head to look at her. "You cannot harm me with such primitive attacks, I who have withstood the crushing embrace of the great oceans." 

Zero-B did not need it to tell her of her impotence and rather than respond, she hailed her handler again. [Control? 'Panzer' tactics deemed ineffective. Permission requested to disengage and retrieve armaments. End.] Only the dissonant squeal answered her and she released the channel. The creature began taking steps towards her and Zero-B backed away, delaying in hopes that the link to her controller would clear, but the gulf of static did not abate. It took considerable effort to hide her unsteadiness with each step. 

The beast continued speaking. "My design is an example of the unparalleled wisdom and foresight of great Lord Oda. As I am fashioned well, so does my master value me. Submit to perchance receive his favor and bask in his glory." 

For the immeasurable instant it took for electrons to whip through her neural network at the speed of light, Serobi considered the creature's offer and for the first time, she answered the intruder, declaring, "Unit Zero-B exists only to serve and enforce the will of Tiphares!" 

The creature paused before her declaration. "Then you shall cease to exist," was all that it said before lunging for her, lethal talons seeking. Zero-B dove beneath; so close overhead passed the blades that she felt a quick yank as her cloak was torn free. She hit the sand and tumbled but before completing the roll, thrust herself upward in a steeple kick aimed for the last vulnerable spot beneath its head. It must have perceived her attack, for it aggressively drove its chin down, slamming Zero-B into the sand. 

Only the yielding bed of sand kept Zero-B from being knocked unconscious by the terrific blow and she struggled not to be crushed beneath the massive weight that shut out all the light around her. "Hnnngh." The sound of sand grating beneath the pressure and her own efforts was loud in her ear as she resisted, but she could not slow the crush. Forced deeper, water began to seep into the cavity and Zero-B fought harder to escape, but it was futile. She had no room to fight back; she was being flattened between two unrelenting planets. 

"Warning. Exceeding maximum load limits." 

Her left forearm trembled and with a distinct crack buckled and began to deform. "Failure of left radius detected." The saline water began to pool around her body. 

Suddenly, the darkness and crushing pressure exploded away, replaced by blinding light and freedom. Then a great claw seized her and lifted her into the air and she was inches from its face as it examined her. The keen talons that held her cut through her clothes and suit and etched angry furrows in her armor plating. 

The beast quit examining its captive and lowered her as it began to walk inland, away from the beach. Carrying her along, it strode over the scraggly bushes and rocky ground, up the sloping ground towards the seaward cliff. Zero-B knew she had to stop it and struggled hard against her bonds, but could not free herself. It took a Herculean effort just to shift her body within the steel straitjacket, an inch at a time, but she persevered. Her broken arm grated unpleasantly during the effort and feeling in her hand began to fade as increasingly more neural connections were severed, but she had to escape. 

The beast finally heeded her efforts as it neared the top of the cliff and mercilessly squeezed her. The talons bit deeper into her armor and Zero-B fell limp as she felt many internal seals and organs rupture and bleed. Only the numerous alarms flashing in her skull prevented her from losing consciousness. 

The beast stopped and lifted her before it again, her slack legs dangling over the water below. It addressed her, "You are nothing more than the most insignificant pebble in my Lord's path, but as nothing must be left to challenge his way, so shall you be cast aside." 

The world whipped into an unrecognizable blur as Zero-B was accelerated and hurled bodily into the air. For a moment, the ironclad angel flew, arcing through the sky as shredded plumage trailed her flight, but past the peak of her flight, she tumbled earthward where no earth waited to receive her, only the dark blue of the sea. 

Zero-B hit the surface with a terrific splash, a blow that was merciful compared to the brutality of the beast's attack. Before the gout of water caused by her crash had even fallen, she was already sinking swiftly. Bubbles trailed her rapid descent and as the surface receded rapidly. Seen through increasingly more seawater, the white sunlight dimmed and the pressure began to mount as the servant sank. Fewer and fewer weak shafts of sunlight filtered through the greater depths and Zero-B reached for one, but it escaped her grasp. Finally the pressure became too much and her external seals failed and seawater penetrated her core. As though she was not aware of the chill invading her body, multiple alarms warned her of imminent failure. A flood of electricity escaped her body into the ocean and her consciousness flickered. The last thing she knew before the darkness completely took her was, "I've failed." 

The last traces of her passage disappeared from the ocean's surface that continued to undulate with each passing wave, indifferent to the life just lost in its depths. The beast watched the spot on the surface where she had sank, a few hundred meters out to sea, for only a moment. It then turned a few arc-seconds to face the point on the horizon from whence it had come. It paused for a moment to revel in this intoxicating moment. For months it had tirelessly and unremittingly labored towards its goal and had much further to go yet, but already the prophecies of Lord Oda were being fulfilled and this creature was partaking of that glory. Already the treacherous empire of the north was falling away before the advance of Oda's kingdom. 

The ground trembled under the beast's ponderous footsteps as it turned to face inland. There was no sign of it at this distance, but in the direction in faced, past interminable miles of desert scrub, rock, and sand lay Tiphares, its ultimate target. There would the greatest triumph be realized. Before that though . . . it looked south along the coast, where it could hear traces of radio chatter and smell a melange of scents spawned by imperfect combustion. There was a city in that direction. 

The video feed showed only a mash of static and the accompanying audio was nothing more than white noise. Below that terminal was the core monitoring system that relayed detailed information about every aspect of a Tuned agent. This sub-system had proven immune to the interference that had interrupted communications with unit 0-B, but it too offered no proof of her continued existence. All of the common signals and identifiers were absent. The mission clock showed that one hundred minutes had elapsed since all trace of unit 0-B had been lost and the G.I.B. handler logged the time of termination, sighing pleasurably as she did. 

Sharon, one of the other handlers leaned around the corner to pry. "What is it, Gloria?" 

Gloria smiled a small smile. "Let's just say we won't be interrupted anymore," she replied slyly. 

Sharon noticed the inactive monitoring system of 0-B and her eyes grew wide. "You mean . . . ?" she began to ask in an excited whisper. 

Gloria nodded. 

Sharon's smile grew and she gave her a thumbs-up. "That's terrific! Oh! That means you've won the pot too!" She glanced around to see if anyone else was listening. "So take me out to eat tonight. Steak!" Sharon then ducked behind the partition between their workstations, before Gloria could object. Sharon's silliness did little to mar Gloria's good mood and it was with distinct relish that she began filling out a Factory Property Loss form. Normally days of silence would have to pass before a Tuned unit was given up for lost, but the prototypes were hardly in the same category, and so their termination timetables were much shorter. All of the other prototype units had had enough good grace to fail after just a few months of field service, if not during testing, but this last unit had had the strange luck to survive time after time. Today though, that luck had run out, and not too soon either. Gloria's patience for baby-sitting the inferior agent had just about ran out. 

As she leaned over to turn off 0-B's monitoring system, Gloria noticed more than one head peeking around or over a cubicle wall. As soon as she looked up, the other handlers began to clap unabashedly and Gloria blushed, embarrassed. Sharon ducked back behind the wall before Gloria could assign her with the blame for spreading the news so quickly. Gloria attempted a seated bow for the praise of the other handlers. 

"That'll be enough of that," cut one masculine voice through the applause, which ceased immediately as each hurried back to her work. Gloria straightened and did the same. She did not need to look to know that the Chief had left his office and was headed her way, only listen to his approaching footsteps. 

In the corner of her eye, a hand appeared on the edge of her desk and she could feel the weight of his other on the back of her chair. The way he leaned close would have led Gloria to think he had ulterior motives, if she hadn't known better. 

"Good job," he said quietly. 

"Thank you sir," she responded. Her data entry did not slow and wouldn't, not unless he told her to stop. Neither did she look away from her screen to make eye contact. 

"Transfer the mission to AR-8 without delay." 

"Yes sir." 

He left without saying anything more and when his office door closed behind him, the entire room collectively relaxed. 

If Gloria had been pleased before, she was positively delighted now, though she gave no outward sign aside from the pleased smirk she wore. That the Chief had chosen her unit to receive this mission was a sign of favor. Gloria appreciated the AR unit she was responsible for, in the manner one might a faithful trained dog. Unit 8's performance was an extension of her own as a handler and so she had an invested interest in it. The better it performed, the greater her reward. The other handlers regarded their charges in a similar manner, to some extent. This had not been the case with 0-B, the last of the prototypes, which was more like a stray cur that no one cared for, likewise passed from master to master when one tired of it. No matter how much neglect or abuse it received from its hostile masters, it never failed to return with its tail curled under, submissive, worthless, and despised. 

As soon as she finalized the unit's termination, she forgot about it and transferred the mission data to her main workstation. Into her headset she spoke, "AR-8, disengage and standby for new orders." 

Aric frowned at the untouched page of his workbook. The problems were about fractions and he hated fractions. He hated math too. School as well. In fact, now that he thought about it, he didn't like being at home much either. Especially not when his mom was in a bad mood like she was today. He glanced up at her, reading her book at the kitchen table. She was reading her book, but he had to do homework. That wasn't fair at all. 

Aric glared at the math problem, as if he could bully the answer out and sat in a quiet, moody clump on the sofa. His mother looked up from her reading. "If you need help, I'm right here." 

Aric sighed in exasperation, as if the interruption had broken his thought. "Mo-oom, I'm trying to think." 

"Bad company is no company at all, I say. If you're gonna be moody, you can do it in your room." 

Aric threw his arms up in the air dramatically and then went about closing his book and leaving the room with great exaggeration. She always said it was him being moody, when really it was her. 

He swung the door closed behind him and dropped his workbook to the floor. He kicked it too, but it only tumbled across the floor, fluttering in an unsatisfying manner. Without an audience, his bad mood eased a bit and Aric crossed the room to sit down where his workbook had wound up and opened it to the homework assignment. 

About six problems later, he heard the bedroom door open behind him and he twisted around to see his mom poking her head in through the doorway. 

"Can I come in?" she asked. 

"Yeah." 

She opened the door fully and entered. Picking her way through the floor littered with toys and dirty clothes, she sat down on Aric's bed, which was just as cluttered. "How's it coming?" she asked, nodding at his workbook. 

"It's okay," Aric answered, leaning back from his homework. 

His mother nodded. "I was kind of lonely today, you know. I went to the dry goods store on my own, cleaned the house on my own, and then when my friend came back, he was unhappy. But the worst part was that he didn't tell me what bothered him. I thought we were better friends than to keep secrets from one another." 

"I'm sorry," Aric said sheepishly. He didn't meet her gaze though. She shook her head. "No, you don't have to apologize. What would really help is if you would talk to me." 

Slowly, Aric looked upwards, then away as soon as he saw her honest, trusting expression. He shifted uncomfortably. She waited as he came around. "Well . . . one of my friends made me mad." 

"What did they do?" 

"They said something mean." 

"They did?" 

"Yeah." 

"Who was it?" 

"I can't tell you. I promised I wouldn't tell." 

"Oh?" She said, sitting up straighter. "Wasn't it Ganbe or Tillean? You always fight with Tillean." 

"No, it wasn't him." 

"Someone else then?" 

"Yeah." 

"I won't ask you to break your promise, but can you tell me what they said?" 

" . . . That I have to stay here on the Farm my whole life." 

"What a weird thing to say. Is that why you're upset?" 

Aric nodded slowly. 

"If you do well in school, you'll be smart enough to do anything you want and go anywhere you want when you grow up." 

"That's what I told her, but she didn't believe me." 

"Perhaps she was brought up differently. I don't think she meant to be mean." 

"Maybe . . ." Aric acceded. 

His mother rose from the bed and came over to rub the top of his head. "If you keep up your homework, you'll be able to prove her wrong though, won't you?" 

Aric smiled. It was his first in hours, which made it feel all the more warm. "Yeah," he answered as he smoothed his ruffled hair. 

"Okay." She began making her way out of the room, negotiating carefully so as not to trip or step on anything. 

"Mom?" Aric called out as she reached the door. 

"Yes?" she replied, with the doorknob in her hand. 

"Do I have to do the whole chapter?" 

She smiled also. "No. Finish that page and then come get some dessert." 

Aric nodded in agreement and went back to his studies, in a much better mood than before. 

Weighted down with lethargy, the beast moved imperceptibly. The chilled morning air carried little smell or sound to it. The scent of urbanization that it had detected yesterday was only a memory now, but it knew the town could not be far away. 

The beast currently lay in a shallow arroyo still full of shadows lingering from the night before. As the sun rose, the desert landscape grew brighter, but for now, only the crest of the beast's back was sunlit. As an exothermic creature, the onset of the cold night had forced it to a stop. Unlike the waters of the ocean that stayed a relatively constant temperature, this arid desert air changed temperature so quickly and drastically that the beast had been effectively immobilized. 

So for now it lay unmoving in a small rift in the ground, surrounded by sharp rocks and thorny plants. The heat pits in its lower jaw sensed that the air and surroundings were too cold to support it, but the encouragingly warm eddies of air were beginning to waft into this cavity. From the small patch of sunlight on its back, the beast could feel warmth beginning to spread through its body. 

Temporarily confined to this stupor, the beast could do little more than look and listen. There was one aspect of the desert vista that continued to attract the beast's attention. Through the opening at the end of the arroyo the beast could look out onto the valley floor as it extended towards the mountains. Through that gap, it could see a broad array of pale shapes in the distance. As the sunlight had gradually crept across the desert landscape and that congregation, glints of metal and glass had caught the beast's eye. It was so tantalizingly close that the beast tried again to move, but it could not. Yet. 

The main room of the schoolhouse was long, along one side was nothing but bookshelves, the school library, and windows above that. Of the thirty desks in the room, only ten were occupied. The teacher, Ms. Forester, was at the blackboard, drawing a picture of the rain cycle. 

" . . . And when the clouds get full of water, what happens?" she asked with chalk paused, after having drawn the cloud. 

"It rains!" answered many of the students. 

"Right," replied the teacher as she began drawing the rain falling from the cloud. "But what happens if it's really cold?" 

There was a slight pause before a girl answered, "It-It's hail instead?" 

"That's right, Mariana." Or it can be snow too, sometimes." The children nodded slowly. The textbook said as much, but they had never seen snow for themselves. "How about sleet? How many of you know what sleet is?" 

Mariana was the only one to raise her hand, but lowered it when she saw that she was the only one. 

"Sleet is when it rains, but the rain turns to ice as soon as it touches something," instructed Ms. Forester. 

Many hands shot up into the air. 

"I remember now!" 

"I know what sleet is!" 

"I knew that!" 

"I know too!" 

"Good," said the teacher as she nodded with approval. "There is one word that describes all of these," she continued, turning to face the blackboard again. She wrote the word 'Precipitation' next to the rain. "Precipitation includes rain, snow, sleet, anything that falls from the sky." 

"And ash too?" asked one boy who had his hand up. 

"Ash?" 

"Yeah, you know, from when they burn the sugarcane at Farm 5." 

"Oh. No, that's not precipitation." 

"But it 'evaporates'," he replied, using one of the newly learned words. 

"Mm, kind of, but precipitation has to be made of water." 

"What about fish?" asked Tillean without raising his hand. 

"Fish don't come from the sky," answered a classmate. 

"Yes they do," Tillean defended. "My dad says he's seen it." 

"You're lying." 

The teacher broke in. "Frei, I don't allow that kind of talk in my classroom. Now apologize." 

"I'm sorry," said the boy in a cowed manner. 

"That's better. Neither of you are lying. Like Tillean said, sometimes fish do fall from the sky, in very special cases, but that isn't precipitation, like Frei said." 

The classroom became much more animated upon hearing this fantastic concept. 

"What if sharks fell down on us? Chomp!" one boy said to another. 

"What about flying fish?" one asked the teacher. 

"Where do they come from?" asked another. 

One boy seated near the windows leaned from his desk to look out and up at the sky, on the lookout for falling seafood. 

"Shhhh," said Ms. Forester, gesturing for the class to quiet down. "Like I said, it only happens in very special cases, and only with very little fish. Now, we need to finish our picture of the water cycle. So what do we call it when it doesn't rain for a very long time?" 

"Drought!" answered the class in unison, except for one. As Farm children, they had heard that word many times before. 

The one student that had not answered had also not been participating all day. He sat doodling on the back cover of his workbook, detached from the class discussion. Aric turned his pencil around to erase the smile from the person he had drawn and replaced it with a straight line for the mouth. Though it lacked expression, this looked more like her. He then drew only one ear and her cloak, though it looked more like a cape, the way he drew it. Aric sighed and his pencil paused. 

This morning he had left the house early to stop by the shack in the grove. He had wanted to apologize for yesterday, when he had gotten mad and hit her. The new sun had yet to emerge above the trees and the leaves were still cool and damp when he had arrived. The shack had been quiet and empty. Aric knew that Serobi was good at hiding, but after looking for her all over the area for almost ten minutes, he had given up, concluding that she wasn't there. All that he had found was the chick, lying quiet, silent, and cool to the touch. He didn't want to tell Tillean about it yet. 

Aric had the bad feeling that Serobi had left, compounded by the thought that he might be guilty of sending her away. He hadn't found the books, which he took as a sign that she might still be somewhere around here, but she might've taken them also. He didn't want her to go. The possibility that she might have made him feel even worse about how he had acted yesterday. He didn't think he had hurt her feelings, since she never smiled or frowned, but maybe he had. 

Aric fidgeted in his chair and looked up at the clock. It was close to eleven-thirty, but lunchtime seemed an eternity away. He could all to easily imagine Serobi, hurt by what he had done, waving goodbye to the Farm and walking into the desert. She was homeless; it would be easy for her to leave. He didn't want to be the reason she left. Serobi didn't know that he had to go to school during the day, so maybe she thought that he was avoiding her. He should have told her about that. Aric squirmed in his seat. Each minute he was here was another minute that she could be getting farther away. And if she were really gone, Aric had the feeling that she would never come back. 

The bell rang tiredly and everyone in the room turned to look at the clock. 

"Okay then, it's lunchtime," announced the teacher, though many of the children had taken the bell as their dismissal and were already out of their desks before she had finished speaking. They went to their cubbyholes in the back of the room to retrieve their lunches while those who had lunch money instead lined up at the door, looking anxiously to Ms. Forester. She was unhurriedly putting on her jacket and collecting her purse from her desk. Then she went to where the kids were waiting and motioned for the lingering students to fetch their lunches and leave the room. 

Ms. Forester and the children with lunch money went down the sidewalk outside of the classroom to exit through the main gate and cross the street to the store, leaving the other kids to eat or play in the yard. Many simply dropped their lunches on or near the sidewalk as they ran to grab a select seat on the playground equipment. Some though, mainly girls, appropriated a picnic table to begin their midday meal. 

Aric carried his lunch and nudged some of those on the sidewalk aside so that he could sit down on the edge. With little interest, he began opening his lunch. 

"Wanna trade?" asked Tillean, who offered a bundle just before Aric's face. Wrapped in wax paper, they were a bunch of apple slices, only barely touched by the browning air. 

Aric shook his head. 

"Aw. You want em Ganbe?" he asked, offering them anew. 

"Nope," answered Ganbe who rather than clear a spot on the sidewalk, chose to sat in the grass nearby. 

"I'm going to go get my milk," Tillean announced before hurrying down the sidewalk in pursuit of the others. 

Ganbe opened the top of his bag and upended it, spilling the contents onto the grass. He sifted through the contents, pushing aside the sandwich and vegetables to pick up the sweetbread dessert and began eating that first. 

Aric skewered his juice container with the accompanying straw and began sucking on that. He wasn't really hungry. 

"How's the bird doing?" Ganbe asked between bites. 

Aric gave a small start and looked around to check that Tillean was still gone. "It died," he confided in Ganbe. 

Ganbe frowned. "Really?" 

Aric nodded. 

"Hm." After a pause, Ganbe said, "I tried keeping a turtle once. It died too. I guess that just happens a lot." 

"Yeah." 

"Tillean's gonna be mad about it though." 

"Yeah." 

"Did you bury it?" 

"No." 

"Why not? Did a coyote get it?" 

Aric opened his mouth to reply, but did not have a ready answer. Now that he thought about it, he realized that he was waiting until Serobi came back before burying the chick. It belonged to her more than anyone else. She should at least be able to see it before it was buried. 

"What?" Ganbe asked. He had finished the sweetbread and was unwrapping the sandwich. 

"It's nothing." 

"Don't worry about Tillean." 

"Ah, I don't care about Tillean." 

"Mm." 

The subject of discussion was now quickly approaching and sat down on the sidewalk nearby, empty-handed and out of breath. "They didn't have any chocolate milk," he supplied, then began eating his apples noisily. "What you got, Aric?" 

Aric shrugged and then opened his bag to remove the aluminum foil bundle and unwrapped it. There were two pieces of chicken inside. 

"Hey! Can I have some?" 

"I guess." 

"Thanks," said Tillean as he helped himself to the larger breast piece and began eating it in lieu of the apples. 

Upon seeing how much Tillean was enjoying the chicken, Aric felt his own hunger aroused and followed suit. It was pretty good. He now regretted giving the other piece away. 

For the next few minutes they ate quietly until Tillean, almost choking, bolted down the last of his lunch. "Okay bye" he said before running across the yard to join in a game of wall ball that had just started. 

"Oh," commented Ganbe as he looked at his remaining food and then at the attractive game. After getting up from the grass, he dumped his leftovers back into his bag and wrapped it up. "You gonna play too?" he asked Aric. 

"Maybe later." 

"I'm gonna go." 

"Okay." 

The ball slammed against the brick wall rapidly, resounding with the same hearty "thunk!" each time it hit. Aric was transfixed by the game they were playing and gave a start when he heard the air siren wind up. The other kids stopped what they were doing to look about and into the sky, or to each other, not understanding what the sound was. The kids on the swing set braked to a halt, their feet throwing up gravel and sand, and now ignored, the ball bounced away from the wall. Ms. Forester rose from the bench, uncertain like the children, but only for a moment. Then she clapped her hands twice and in a commanding voice ordered, "Line up single-file by the gate! This is a fire drill!" 

En masse, the children did as instructed. They all ran to be first in line, some thrilled by the deviation from the schedule, others sincerely frightened. Ms. Forester's pace was more restrained, but only just. Aric got up from the sidewalk and took his place at the end of the line. Ms. Forester quickly opened the gate and ushered them out of the school yard, waiting for each to pass before exiting herself. The guiding hand she pressed against Aric's back was urgently forceful. 

As he joined the rest of the students gathered on the sidewalk outside the school, Aric saw other people emerging from other buildings along the street. They seemed just as surprised and confused by the commotion. It was the air siren atop the Factory substation that was going off. Some of the kids were covering their ears, but it wasn't really that loud. Aric had never heard it before; until now, he had thought the thing was broken. Some of the other people were pointing above the buildings and he looked. 

Above the mountains, black smoke was smeared against the blue sky. Aric squinted hard. It looked like whatever it was was still burning, for the dark plume undulated incrementally as it drifted skyward. 

Some of the children became more nervous once they saw the smoke and began plying Ms. Forester with questions. Aric stepped away from the group so that he could see better. Down an alley, through a gap in the buildings, he could see the dust plume of a vehicle heading quickly towards the mine. He wondered who it was. The siren stopped and the air seemed uncomfortably silent afterwards. 

"They say there was an explosion at the mine," spoke Ganbe, who had arrived at his side unnoticed. 

"Oh really?" said Aric. 

"Yeah." 

"How do you know?" 

Ganbe pointed at Ms. Forester, who was in a private conversation with another adult, a step away from the kids so that they would not overhear. She shook her head, the man nodded strongly. "That's what he said." 

"Wow." Aric looked back at the smoke. He wasn't sure, but it looked like it was getting thicker and darker. The vehicle had already disappeared from view. 

Ms. Forester clapped her hands together and waited until the class had quieted down and was facing her. The man had left and some of the other adults along the street were beginning to depart. "Class is over for today." She shushed the outburst of delight from some and continued. "There's been an accident at the mine. If someone you know works there, everyone's gathering at the Factory station. That's where you should go and meet your parents. For everyone else, you should just go home. Okay?" 

The kids nodded. 

"Be careful." 

The children dispersed and Ms. Forester turned away to head towards the station. One of the rumors had been that her boyfriend was one of the mineworkers and by the look of dread on her face, it seemed that just might be true. 

Aric had started back home, but a hand caught his wrist and stopped him. It was Tillean. "What?" Aric asked. 

"You wanna go see the fire?" 

Aric's interest was instantly excited. He hadn't thought about that. "The one at the mine?" 

"Yeah," answered Tillean eagerly. 

"Okay," nodded Aric with equal enthusiasm. 

"C'mon, we gotta hurry before they put it out." 

The two of them crossed the street and Aric looked for Ganbe to join them, but he couldn't see him anywhere. They began running down the sidewalk, dodging the groups of people still gathered there. 

"I saw a truck headed over there," said Aric. 

"A truck?" Tillean shouted over his shoulder. 

"Yeah. I think it mighta been the fire militia." 

They left the main paved street and ran down the dirt road leading towards the pass.


	5. Chapter 4

The last main storage tank exploded, sending waves of flame through the already destroyed refinery. The fireball expanded and rolled skyward, darkening into profuse smoke as it ascended. The ground was blackened from where the burning fuel had touched it. Though illuminated by the chemical fires, the entire complex was blackened so. Through the passing veils of poisonous smoke, only a few men could be seen limping or crawling to safety. 

The beast stood on an untouched outcropping some distance away, surveying the destruction. This had been an undesirable outcome. This oil shale mining facility would have been a welcome addition to the dominion, but the workers had resisted and so this had come to be. They had also foolishly tried to avert the disaster and many had died within the refinery when it went. Both subjects and assets had been lost here, but it was not discouraged. After all, resistance was to be expected from the ignorant. 

The rails leading from the refinery to the mine entrance groaned from the stress induced by the terrific fires burning and the cars on the railway shifted. Pools of aluminum slag began to run off the refinery's foundation and spill onto bare ground, sending up noxious scents as molten metal consumed rock and plant alike. The steel frameworks that remained glowed red hot. 

The beast jumped off the outcropping and landed heavily on the ground below, the dark gray slate cracking beneath the impact. It walked closer to the chemical pyre, within the air shimmering from the intense heat. It did not notice the molten metal sizzling beneath its claws and stepped closer, stopping just before entering the heart of the inferno. The light and shadows contrasted piercingly this close to the fire. The creature paid no heed to the flames licking its hide. The infusing heat renewed the creature, heightening its strength and sharpening its awareness. It bathed in the heat and would have stepped within the furnace itself, if doing so would not have blinded it completely. 

With a terrific report, one rail split and the other tore free of the rail ties and jutted upwards, causing one of the cars to fall over, spilling tons of smoldering oil shale onto the ground. 

This commanded the beast's attention and it stepped clear of the inferno, revitalized. It then took a few swift, long steps and jumped up onto the toppled railcar that crumpled beneath his weight. It looked at the mine entrance, a dark hole in the base of the mountain. Though the refinery had been destroyed, the resource itself remained. This truly was a rich land, fit to be under the rule of his Lord. 

A speeding truck coming down the road through the pass caught its attention. The truck slowed to a stop on the sloped road once it came within view of the devastation. For a few seconds, prey and predator remained immobile, each watching the other. The truck flinched first, shifting into reverse and tearing back up the road, kicking up gravel as it fled. The beast paused for just a moment. "The ignorant will always resist change," it thought. He then leapt off the railcar, which was shoved backwards by the great impetus, and began pursuit. 

Aric and Tillean were now walking quietly along the dirt road leading up to the pass. The trip was turning out to be a lot longer than they had expected, but neither was willing to turn around and go back home without seeing the fire. The ground was definitely beginning to slope upwards towards the cleft in the mountains, which made the walk more arduous, but the difficulty only reinforced Aric's resolve. 

The town was small and silent behind them. No other vehicles had come this way, aside from the first one they had seen. The dust and rock of the road were a pale white that reflected the sunlight strongly, causing the boys to squint. It wasn't actually hot, but the brightness of the road seemed to compound his thirst. This was proving to be a long walk. Aric heard something and looked up. 

The truck was coming back, fast, hurtling over potholes with reckless abandon. A thick cloud of dust filled the air in its wake. 

"Oh crap! Hide Tillean!" he exclaimed as he dove into the ditch alongside the road and hid behind a clump of creosote. Tillean was just a second slower, looking first at Aric, then in the direction of whatever had spooked him. He dropped down into the ditch on the opposite side of the road. Aric could see Tillean across the road, lying flat in the ditch. He whispered harshly at him, telling him to hide better, but Tillean didn't seem to hear. 

Aric crawled closer to the brush and made himself small and watched the truck approach. It was very close and Aric ducked. He could hear the grumbling of gravel as the truck came to a sudden stop close by. He dared to look up, but a cloud of white dust obscured his vision. He could hear the rough idle of the engine, so close was the truck. Then he heard the door open and some shouts. It sounded like Tillean. Aric sat up, peering hard, but could only barely see the top of the truck's cab emerging from the dust. Before he could see any more, the door slammed shut and the accelerating tires threw more dirt into the air as it left. 

He coughed and ineffectually tried waving the airborne dust away. It wasn't until the sound of the truck had faded from hearing that he finally stood up. By then the dust had drifted away from the road, clearing the air. All the same, Aric was a bit cautious coming out from his hiding place. The first thing he checked was the other side of the road, but Tillean was not there. Aric looked down the road, back towards town. The drifting plume of dust had detached completely from the road; the truck must've already made it back to the Farm. 

Tillean's abduction left Aric feeling somewhat off-balance. He continued looking back towards town as the plume drifted farther away and dissipated and thought of going home. His confidence had left with Tillean and now he had the unpleasant feeling that he was going to end up in trouble for this. He managed to look away, towards the road leading to the pass, towards the mountain, and towards the ominous smoke in the sky above. As soon as he saw that, all matters of confidence and consequences were moot. His curiosity demanded that he see what was on the other side. 

Constantly bounced about in the bed of the speeding pick-up, the shovels, axes and other tools grated against each other with sounds of metallic complaints. Tillean was also in the back of the pick-up. His bottom hurt from the constantly bucking bed and he turned to look inside the cab at the driver. He didn't understand why they were driving so fast, or why they had grabbed him, but he knew he was going to be in trouble. The men inside the cab glanced back out the window from time to time. One was gesturing forcefully and Tillean could hear scraps of their loud voices on the wind, but couldn't hear what they were talking about. 

At least the man sitting next to him, Mr. Tran had finally let go of his arm. He had been holding onto him like he expected Tillean to jump out of the speeding vehicle. He couldn't have gotten away from him, even if he wanted to. Mr. Tran was a big strong man that looked very much like the fireman he was. Right now though, his face was tight and his eyes fastened on the road whipping away from them. Tillean would have said he looked scared if he didn't know better. 

A fast jolt bounced Tillean hard enough that he momentarily left the bed of the truck, only to slam back down. He winced and glanced at Mr. Tran to see if he had noticed. Mr. Tran was looking directly at him and said, "Go straight home. Take care of your family." 

Tillean looked up at the strong man, confused by his words. Mr. Tran gave no further explanation and looked back at the receding road, as if expecting something terrible and Tillean watched it also, wondering just what it was they were running from. 

Aric kept glancing back over his shoulder as he walked, to see if the truck was coming back, but he was alone on the dirt road. The road was noticeably growing steeper as it approached the mouth of the pass. The cleft in the mountain was so narrow and tall that for most of the day the shadows across the road were complete, except for a brief window at noon. As he got closer, Aric saw that the rock of the excavated walls was a raw pink in color, not like the bleached terrain of the desert. Walking on the shoulder of the road, he also noticed rare mosses growing deep in the moist clefts of the cool rock. 

Just as Aric neared the apex of the pass, out-of-breath and anxious to see what lay below, he saw something unexpected.  

It was enormous in Aric's eyes. Standing tall and powerful, the monster seemed to occupy the entire width of the pass. The ground had shook while it had been running, but that had stopped now that it walked slowly. Though the earth had steadied, Aric's knees had not. He prayed for it to stop where it was, to not come any closer, but it continued towards him, a heart-stopping step at a time. 

"Who are you?" it spoke. 

Aric jumped and his eyes, already wide, now bulged with fear and amazement. he didn't see a mouth, but it had definitely spoken. In what sounded like the voice of the mountains itself. "Ah—I-I'm Aric," he stammered. 

"Who do you obey?" 

Aric was speechless, until it took another immense step towards him and he blurted, "My mom!" 

"As do all children." 

It continued to approach slowly, as though not to frighten the child, placing each foot carefully, though the gravel still popped angrily beneath them. It was so close that Aric had to crane his head back to watch it. Aric would have taken a couple steps back, if his legs had worked. 

It exhaled and Aric could feel the breeze on his face. It smelled cold and foreign. He wished it would not come any closer. It had to see that he was shaking. 

From its shadowy underbelly an arm unfolded and extended out towards him. Aric froze still at the sight of the claws. 

"But did you know that your life is owed to another yet?" The monster asked, reaching for him. The hand filled his vision and fearing the worst, Aric shut his eyes. For a few seconds he stood afraid, but when it did not touch him, he pried open an eyelid to squint. The open hand had stopped just a few inches away, unmoving. Aric looked up at the creature's head, that was just now swiveling away from him. 

At that moment, the slow report of the rifle reached them, drawn out by its passage through the desert air. Two more reports followed, at shorter intervals. From the third shot, Aric heard a ricochet very close by and gave a start. 

The beast slowly turned away, retracting its claw. 

He watched it start to go, but before Aric could feel anything other than immense relief at not being the focus of the monster's attention, he realized that it was under fire, but the bullets were bouncing off. He could see the fire glancing off its hide and hitting the rock walls and road. It did not so much as flinch as each round struck, but Aric was not nearly so calm and hurried to find cover in the ditch. 

Hiding behind a protruding rock, Aric heard the monster's footsteps fade away while the gunfire seemed to grow louder, or maybe it was just the echoes of the pass. Either way, it sounded dangerous so Aric stayed huddled close to the protection of the rock. 

The beast forgot about the boy and began walking into the horizontal rain of fire, towards its attacker. Bullets glanced off its hide and uselessly spent their fury in the surrounding dirt and rock. The giant creature scrutinized the new arrival that stood defiantly in the middle of the road, nearly a mile away, rifle trained on him. She looked familiar. Small like the one from yesterday, but this person had black hair instead and was more heavily encumbered by weapons. The firing halted but the beast did not. The insult had been made and she would be punished. Though the resistance she posed was insignificant, defiance could not be tolerated. The creature's steps picked up speed and its anger grew to match it. 

AR-8 ejected the magazine. The standard anti-personnel ammunition was having no discernible effect. With quick precision she removed a special magazine from a sling on her body harness, tore away the protective wrapping, and then locked it in place beneath the rifle's action. A faint whiff of the pungent grease reached her nose. She did not look at but was still aware of the target, now running down the steep grade of the mountain road as she dropped to one knee and tossed her hair to the side to peer through the scope unobstructed. 

Expertly she trained the rifle on the moving target and multiple scales began scrolling across the display as she followed the target. A firing solution was quickly divined and a red dot appeared in the center of the creature's head. AR-8 pulled the trigger. 

Flares of superheated gas billowed from the stabilizing vents as the small piece of artillery fired. Bushes flattened from the muzzle blast and AR-8, though she weighed several hundred pounds was pushed backwards through the dirt by the powerful recoil. 

AR-8 restrained the weapon and regarded her target. 

It had stopped dead in its tracks. As the report of the shot faded into the boundless blue above the empty desert, the beast wavered but remained upright. A vermicular arm unfolded from its underbelly to reach upwards to the face, to probe the injury. The talons of the claw reached the blind spot of the creature's head and gently traced the smooth exterior until they found the point of impact and then closed around the protruding projectile and extracted it. The sharp talons found easy purchase in the dense depleted-uranium round, which was still hot from the impact. After inspecting the deformed round, the beast dropped it unceremoniously to the dirt where it made a small crater in the dust and regarded her with equal measure of anger and irritation. It was becoming quite apparent that the denizens of this land were irreparably ignorant and would only respond to forceful tutelage. This was not the creature's main task; it could sense its main objective far to the west, beckoning it, but this matter must be dealt with first. The beast resumed its advance. 

"Hmph," murmured AR-8 as the target began advancing again. She brought the rifle back into alignment with her eye but did not activate the targeting system this time. Instead she relied on her own ability, aimed for the silhouette of the pelvis, and fired. After absorbing the recoil, it took AR-8 a moment to reacquire the target. Once she had, she saw that it was still running towards her unhindered; her attack had not slowed it by a single step. This was unusual. Normally it only took one display of might to break the typical bandit gang or brigand squad and send them running away. AR-8 smiled at this oddity and removed her gaze from the rifle scope. She stood up and tossed the weapon aside. 

This act elicited an outcry from Control. [What are you doing, Eight? Resume suppressive fire at once!] 

Making no move to obey, AR-8 replied. [No. These toys only get in the way.] She pressed the quick-release button on her harness and the bulk of her equipment fell to the ground. [I'll stop it myself.] 

From AR-8's stance and biometrics readout, Gloria saw that the unit was preparing to engage the target in hand-to-hand combat. [Idiot!] she whispered harshly, lest the other operators see she was having difficulty with her charge. [Unit 0-B went against it and was destroyed! Pick up your weapons and neutralize the target!] 

AR-8 still did not comply but answered, [Zero was a defective antique. I am superior.] 

Gloria hesitated for a moment. The AR series seemed to pick up odd bits of personality during their long careers, some more afflicted than others, so this was nothing especially out of the ordinary. But unit Eight had always chafed under the collar from day one, unexplainably proud and headstrong. The Chief had dismissed this as a flaw common to the entire AR series and Gloria worked constantly to expunge this disobedience from her unit, but this was the first time that the unit had flatly refused an order. She flipped open the cover of the electro-shock panel and was about to depress it when Eight spoke. 

[If you're going to punish me, do it quickly. I have a fight to finish.] 

Gloria's finger paused. Through AR-8's eyes she could see the target, now very large and close, approaching rapidly. It was doubtful that AR-8 would fully recover before contact was made. She slapped the lid shut and ordered, [Engage at will.] Unit 8 was becoming too clever for her own good. She would have to put her in her place later. 

AR-8 smiled. [Thank you.] 

In the next instant the beast was upon her, bringing its claws to bear on the small opponent. AR-8 jumped clear and his claws sliced through the bushes and only caught her abandoned equipment. AR-8 landed a dozen meters away, still facing the beast. She quickly sized it up while it regarded her ruined equipment that it held in its claws. 

AR-8 addressed the beast. "Allow me to thank you too, for this opportunity." The beast's head lifted to look at her and she winked. Instantly, countless mechanical bees and spiders burst forth from their hives within the Tuned equipment to swarm across the beast's body and with a flash of light, a white-hot bloom of flame enveloped the target. 

The ground bucked beneath the intense concentrated explosions, dropping AR-8 to a steadier crouch. She shielded her eyes from the fiery wash and flying debris and looked again as soon as the air was clear. The fresh crater was bright from the light of chemical fires in the center, while the air above was quickly filling with black, noxious smoke. At the edge of the crater, the desert flora burned and the wounded earth collapsed, tumbling into the deep pit. 

AR-8 stood and peered into the pit, carefully watching for any movement, though she doubted there would be any. As she watched, streams of liquid fire ran down the slopes of the crater and the fires continued to burn unabated. Ar-8's lips stretched into a dissatisfied line and then the fire shifted. 

An arm reached unsteadily out from the inferno and latched onto the lip of the crater not too far from her feet. She noticed that the skin was blackened, but not injured in any visible way. The charred soil collapsed beneath the claw as the creature began to pull itself out. The other emerged appeared to assist. Apparently this one had been holding her equipment. The lacerated thumb twitched erratically, but the fingers had been blown away entirely, leaving only ragged cauterized stumps. Char broke loose with each articulation of the wounded hand and fluids bled from fissures in the palm, mixing with the dirt as the beast pulled itself up. AR-8 laughed, amused by the creature's determination. "How are you called, tenacious one?" She stepped back to give the beast room as it exited the pit. The burning gel clung to the beast, wreathing it in flame. AR-8's smile soured slightly as she noted the gel that was supposed to burn hot enough to melt even tempered steel burned only itself, not the creature. The beast seemed wholly unaffected by the flames encompassing it. 

"Anak termasu Kebencia," replied the creature in a throbbing growl. It had gained the stable ground at the edge of the crater while the last of the burning gel liquefied and ran onto the ground. 

As the flame left the creature's body, the damage done by the fireflies was exposed. Portions of its armor were now glazed depressions, burned away by the plasma. AR-8 licked her lips when she saw those vulnerable spots. Scars from shrapnel now decorated the underside of its body as well. She looked up at the eyeless head and spoke. "Killing you will be a pleasure, Child." 

Her figure blurred as she feinted too swiftly to be seen, then launched herself past the beast. In a flash, she reached a boulder protruding from the soil and kicked off hard, high into the air. She made a three-point landing on the back of the beast and slid a few feet across the slick, broad surface. The creature had barely reacted to her feint by the time she landed. The surface was broiling hot and the palms of her body suit immediately began to smolder. Quickly she found one of the glazed dents, and smoothly maneuvered into position and let loose with a double-handed hammer. The weakened plating fractured and the beast roared, heaving about wildly to rid itself of its passenger. 

AR-8 laughed and leapt off gracefully, her legs knifing through the air as she flipped over backwards. Once she landed the enraged beast lunged for her, but she easily dodged its attack. The seeking claws plowed into the earth where she had stood, but the beast wasted no time twisting to find her. AR-8 evaded the beast's swing, almost dancing, so trivial was the danger. She slapped the wrist aside, pivoted to within the beast's space, and daringly caught hold of its head, wrenching it mercilessly. It did not give as easily as she expected and seeing the claws returning out of the corner of her eye, she snapped herself up onto the topside of the skull just as the talons screeched shrilly against the chin. 

AR-8 had to abandon that perch as soon as she gained it, to avoid the wounded hand seeking to smash her flat. She laid back and lifted her legs clear just as it came down, then she responded with an axe kick to the back of the broken hand. The beast roared again, not in pain but in angered frustration. AR-8 laughed. "You are well-named, Child!" she yelled to it. "Spend all your hate on me!" She kicked off into a flip to land on the beast's flanks. She would spend all day killing this beast; it was seldom that she could have so much fun. 

From this rearward position, AR-8 espied the first blow she had landed. The plate fragments bulged upwards, inviting further assault. The beast bucked to shake her loose, but AR-8 was able to leap forward, catching onto an uplifted fragment to stop herself. This elicited a fresh roar and renewed frenzy of twisting from the beast. AR-8 giggled; the beast knew too what she was planning. She situated herself within a cleft of the exoskeleton and with eager fingers seized one of the broken wedges and pulled. With wet tearing sounds it grudgingly came loose and black liquid began to well up through the cracks. The beast's large claws raked the backside as it sought out AR-8, but it could not reach her. She was able to get her fingers beneath the wedge and tore it free. A geyser of superheated fluids burst forth, catching her full in the face and torso. 

AR-8 cried out, more from shock than pain and clawed at her eyes. The acrid liquid seared her eyes and she blindly sought to clear them. The beast moved beneath her, quickly. AR-8 partly regained her vision and through a clouded eye, saw the smoke part to reveal the rapidly approaching ground. During its lunging, the beast had come back to the molten crater and dove in, intent on crushing the pest on its back. The thick smoke billowed outwards as the beast fell in and burning chunks of char were expelled from the pit by its impact. Trails of smoke followed the burning debris as it rained down on the surroundings. Without a moment the rising smoke of the pit reformed, completely enveloping the beast and android within. 

The air was coarse with dark particulates and AR-8 coughed as with a fist she cleared her eyes, but to no avail. The air was opaque, except for the sparkling motes borne upwards by the heat of the flames. Her back was pressed against the side of the pit and when she tried to move, she could hear the fragile glazed earth crack and the shards rained down upon her shoulders. The vortex of air drew her hair aloft. AR-8 tried to move again, but her legs were pinned at the knees. She felt around with her hands and found the great mass that held her fast, but she could not find any edge to work around. There was no sign of the beast, but still, AR-8 struggled impatiently against her restraints, alternately between searching for purchase and attempting to destroy the weight entirely. 

With a lurch, the weight shifted and began sliding away. AR-8 kept her palms pressed against it, ready to intervene once she felt an opening. She caught onto the trailing edge just as the mass released her, but now freed, she slid down the glassy slope, deeper into the pit. 

She slid to a stop a few meters lower, in a bed of live coals and cinder. All around her the ground glowed with a ruddy light, obscured by the copious smoke. This close to the bottom of the pit, there was less smoke but the air was nearly aflame with heat. Her landing sent up a thick curtain of sparks that singed her hair and face, but she paid it no mind. The only sound was that of hissing and crackling. Even with her arm raised to shield her face, the intense heat burned her eyes and she could only make out the glowing rifts of exposed coals. She fell forward, but caught herself with her hands. AR-8 growled, her irritation growing into anger. Eyes squinted against the heat, she could barely see her forearms smoking after being pulled from the deep bed of coals. She had to get out of here quickly and tried again to stand up, but could not get beyond a crouch. The last remnants of her body suit melted and dripped off her body, bursting into flame in mid-air. With a snarl of anger and determination fixed on her face, AR-8 turned around and began to crawl up the slope, clear of the glowing bed. 

She did not stop until the slope became too steep for her to climb further. Despite the thick smoke, she could make out the crater wall rising steeply before her and it became obvious that she would not be able to climb out this way. Clinging to a spur of andesite, AR-8 turned herself around to look for another way. Then she saw what had kept her from standing. Below the knees, her legs had been crushed. The useless appendages still glowed a dull red from being immersed within the slag for so long. AR-8 continued to stare blankly at the crippling damage as the ground tremors increased, causing dust and rubble to tumble down the slope. She could not believe it. 

A darkness within the smoke solidified just as the tremors came to a stop. AR-8 did not notice it until the smoke above her head parted to reveal an eyeless head. The beast was covered with slag and soot, but was undamaged. AR-8 looked up at what had once been her prey with dull eyes. The end was already decided, but her spirit would not surrender. 

"I'm not finished yet," AR-8 stated with angry defiance. 

"Not hardly,' answered the beast. 

Driven up the side of the mountain, winds hurriedly pressed through the pass constantly, picking up dust from the dirt road as they went. Pale feathers of the airborne loess passed over the boy's shoes as he stood at the side of the road. Aric had not moved from where the monster had left him some time ago. Though it seemed like he was safe for now, Aric was unable to move. His eyes were fixed on the burning crater in the desert floor below. The sight of that destruction kept Aric's fear stoked to a degree that he was immobilized. Even though the monster was gone, Aric could not run back home. He feared turning away for even a second, because then the monster would be at his back in an instant, with those claws ready to grab him tight. 

So Aric stood there, watching the pillar of smoke rise from the desert floor below. The monster and the girl had both gone into it and not come out. His gaze strayed to the first smoke plume that now rose high into the sky, stretching directly above. The path of the smoke came between Aric and the sun, dimming the sunlight that fell upon the mountain pass. The amount of smoke was not diminishing, it was increasing, if anything. Aric no longer cared to see where it came from, he had already seen much more than he wanted. 

With smoke trailing after, the monster appeared from the pit, horrible and real. At the sight of it, a whimper of helplessness escaped Aric's lips and his breathing grew rapid. The monster was dark black, like charcoal, the very image of a demon from hell crawling out onto the surface of the earth for the first time. It held something in its hand, Aric could not see it well from this distance, but it seemed to hold the monster's attention as well. 

The monster looked at what it held closely, something that was as dark as itself and then lifted that arm high and brought it down hard against the ground. The monster brought it up again and hit it against the ground again. The monster continued to hammer the rocks and sand with what it held, Aric couldn't understand what it was doing, until it stopped and looked again at what it held. The monster then took hold of it with both hands and separated them, throwing the halves in opposite directions. The two broken halves of the girl flew through the air, falling to the ground lifelessly. Aric's legs folded beneath him and he dropped to the dusty gravel, crying uncontrollably. 

Though the tears distorted his sight, Aric could see that the monster was now coming back and this made him cry all the harder. He curled up behind the rock that had sheltered him earlier, pressing close against its rough surface. There was nothing he could do; even if he could run, the monster would catch him. The monster would follow him back to town and take them all. 

Shadows of the smoke overhead slid across the dirt road. Aric could not bring himself to look. The monster was getting closer, it was coming. Even now he could feel the slight trembling of the earth from the heavy footsteps of the creature. Aric gave up and closed his eyes. 

Aric felt a heavy impact very close by and gasped, but did not open his eyes. He could hear the scraping, shuffling sound of it moving, just behind him. It reached down, grabbed him around the waist, and lifted him clear off the ground. 

Aric let loose with a shriek and instantly became animated, fighting for all he was worth against the steel band around his middle, but he couldn't break free. It just drew tighter and lifted him higher. Aric did not stop struggling though. 

"Be calm, Aric," spoke a familiar voice. 

Aric ceased his struggles and opened his eyes. He was speechless when he saw that Serobi held him. She did not acknowledge him though, instead looking down the road, prompting Aric to do the same. The monster had stopped, looking directly at her standing further up the pass and it roared, a terrible ragged sound that echoed off the rock walls on either side. Aric winced, then saw that the monster was running up the road towards them. 

Serobi took a few quick steps backwards and jumped into the air, swinging from a thin cable extending from her finger to the cliff above. The two of them swung swiftly over the roadway, until Serobi let out slack to land on the ground, sliding backwards through the dirt. Serobi set Aric on his feet. From where they were, the apex of the pass hid the monster from view, but Aric could still hear it coming. He glanced back and could see the town below, still safe. "Serobi, we have to hurry," he insisted, pulling at her arm. 

Serobi did not move. She was looking at the cliffs above. 

Aric noticed that something was wrong with one of her eyes; it was milky white. He looked up too, but only saw the cliffs and smoke-obscured sky and sun. He could partly see the monster nearing the top of the pass and Aric pulled at Serobi again. "Come on . . ." 

Serobi unslung her rifle from her shoulder and Aric grew more distressed. "No! That won't work! We have to run! We have to run!" He pulled her arm as hard as he could, but Serobi ignored him. Her face was stoic as she set the rifle down on the roadway. This action caused Aric to pause. He didn't understand what she was doing. He glanced at the monster running towards them, now at the top of the pass, and back at Serobi. 

"She won't fight, she won't run . . . She's giving up," Aric realized with alarm. He tugged ineffectually at her arm again. 

Serobi turned to face the monster directly and began gesturing in the air with her arms. 

Aric could not comprehend what she was doing and became desperate. "Serobi, please, we can't stay here. We have to go. Please." 

Serobi's movements came to a stop with one arm outstretched before her, palm upwards, as if beckoning the monster. Aric saw that her hand was empty, but as a wind passed he saw the glimmering of threads, finer than spider silk, radiating from her fingertips into the sky. 

Aric shook his head in defeat; Serobi had given up. Tears ran down his still-damp cheeks, but he didn't care. "Why are you doing this, Serobi?" he asked, not expecting an answer from the mute machine. 

"Do not despair Aric." 

He looked up at Serobi, who regarded him with compassion. 

"Have faith," she said. She then closed her fist and the wires drew taut. 

Rifts of flame and rock exploded from the charges planted in the cliff face above, sending a shower of rock into the air, followed an instant later by a more ominous rumbling that shook the ground. 

The beast came to an immediate halt, initially expecting another attack from above, but there was only flame and smoke overhead, from which the entire cliff emerged, falling towards the road below. Within the shadow of the landslide, the beast turned to face that loathsome android that opposed it and leapt for her. 

The monster jumped at him and Aric flinched. In that instant he was slammed against a wall, harder than he could believe, knocking the air from his lungs. He could feel himself falling, but he could not see. Thunder filled his ears as the mountain came down around him. 

The shaking and buffeting and dirt and noise continued for what felt like an eternity, but eventually the tumult lessened and Aric felt his surroundings grow silent and still. Instead of thunder, a constant ringing now filled Aric's hearing as he opened his eyes. The air was thick with dust, so he could not see. He tried moving but was held fast below his shoulders. All he could feel was dirt and the weight of rough rock against him. Aric coughed repeatedly and struggled to free himself, but he could not see or even know which way was up. Rock and gravel tumbled into his small space the more he moved, so Aric stopped moving for a moment to rest. It was then that he noticed the air was clearing as the dust settled, allowing sunlight to define his surroundings. 

The first thing Aric noticed was the great abundance of sunlight. A large expanse of blue sky was now where the cliffs had been and Aric was relieved by the reassuring sight. The ringing in his ears lessened while he craned his head to look about the area. Try as he might, Aric could not discern the road at all. All around him was an unbroken field of rubble, with boulders and greater promontories where he was guessing the cliffs had been. He didn't know which way he was facing, so he wasn't sure. 

Aric was able to see that the rubble came up to his chest and he began trying again to free himself. The rock shifted as he moved, packing tighter around his chest and making it difficult to breathe, forcing him to stop within the space of a minute. His voice sounded faint to his own ears as he futilely shouted "Help!" into the empty air. If there was an echo or reply, Aric couldn't hear it. He paused, tired and out of breath. Then he noticed a large rock just a few inches away shifting incrementally. Aric winced, expecting it to tumble down on him, but when it didn't, he opened his eyes. 

Rivulets of dust ran from Serobi's hair as she lifted her head from the surface of the rubble. The dust was so thick that her hair and face were the same color as the rock, crushed brown. A slope of larger rocks pressed against the back of her head, preventing her from straightening out completely. 

With an expression of pure amazement, Aric asked, "Are you okay Serobi?" His voice sounded distant and hollow to his deafened ears. 

With heavy-lidded eyes Serobi looked at him and nodded slowly. 

"Can you move?" Aric asked, then shrugged to prove that he could not. 

Serobi nodded again and after looking at the rocks that held Aric fast, she removed her arms from around him and the rocks began to shift. 

As she spread her arms, Aric could feel the press of rock lessening and he immediately wriggled free of the rock drift. The sides of the hole began collapsing inwards as soon as Aric climbed out, but he was able to see how Serobi's body gave structure to the hole. The press of rocks at her back prompted Aric to realize that it had been Serobi who had grabbed him and used her body to shield him from the brunt of the landslide. 

With visible effort, Serobi gathered herself up. With each movement, the pile at her back grated and shifted, forcing her down further until her face was once again pressed against the loose rock. Aric danced anxiously as he watched Serobi struggle against the small mountain of rock at her back. The hungry stones tore away the last scraps of Serobi's garments as she shifted into position. Finally, Serobi summoned her strength into one decisive move to lurch partly free of the rockslide, which instantly closed tight around her legs. 

Aric immediately knelt to begin digging away the rocks that held her fast, despite the fact that more rocks fell in as fast as he cleared them away. 

"That is not necessary, Aric," Serobi said as she twisted herself around and pulled her legs free. The rocks closed in completely, leaving only a shallow crater where the two of them had been, decorated by torn strips of Serobi's battle garb. Those scraps of fabric, still trapped in the rock, held Aric's eyes. He began shaking with fear as he realized how close they had come to being buried alive. 

Serobi picked herself up and noticed Aric's trembling. She took hold of his shoulder and said, "It is over now, Aric." 

Aric rubbed away the renewed tears. "I was so scared," he admitted through the dry sobs. "I didn't-I couldn't even move." He turned around to hug Serobi tightly around the waist, mindless of the sharp edges of the slices in her side. The tears came back. "I'm not mad at you. I won't ever be mad at you again. Please just don't leave anymore." Aric held on tight to the unyielding steel torso of the android, but Serobi did not say anything to calm him. 

After a moment, Serobi carefully removed Aric's arms from her middle and stepped away. Aric wiped his eyes to see how she would respond to his plea. He only saw her back as she climbed up the loose slope of rock to the peak of ruined boulders. Though she didn't respond, he followed her anyways. 

Serobi stopped short of the top and looked down, into the bed of rock. Cautiously, she opened herself to the sacred link and for a few seconds there was nothing but silence. Then there was an emotionless reply. 

[All that you have achieved today is to delay Fate for an instant. The twilight of Melchizedek's reign is fast approaching. Do you think that by stopping me, you have changed anything?] 

[I do not know the future. I only know that I've done my duty.] 

[Ignorance is a pathetic defense, war slave.] 

Before she was able to respond, Serobi noticed that Aric was standing at her side, holding her hand. He stood there quietly, looking down at the rock with her. [I know what's important,] Serobi replied and then closed the link. "Primary mission objective complete," Serobi noted to herself. She then turned away and started to walk down the hill, but felt resistance in her arm. She looked back and saw that Aric had not moved. He was still looking down at the rock. "What is it?" she asked. 

Aric didn't reply immediately, but after a moment asked, "Even though it was a monster, shouldn't we still say a prayer for it? So it will be at peace?" He looked at Serobi and saw that she was looking up in the sky for something. 

Serobi looked down at Aric. "If you believe it will help, then do so." 

Aric nodded and then closed his eyes and bowed his head. He heard the crunching of stones behind him as Serobi moved around, but he did not stop to look. Within a few moments he heard her return and a painful pressure on his leg broke his concentration. "Ow," Aric responded, not knowing what had caused it. He looked down and saw Serobi there, tying a strip of cloth around his calf, down which a dried trickle of blood ran own the dirty skin. Aric watched with curiosity as she managed to tie the knot with just one hand, the metal fingers deftly binding the cloth together. Her other hand hung slack at her side. 

"This should keep it closed," Serobi supplied. 

"Th-Thanks," Aric stammered. As he watched, he noticed that the wrist of the hand she wasn't using looked twisted. "Are you okay?" he asked, pointing at her wrist. 

Serobi looked up to see what he was referring to and then at the broken arm. "I'll manage without," she replied abruptly. 

"Are you sure?" 

"It is the only option." After securing the bandage, Serobi remained kneeling, visually checking Aric for any other injuries. 

While she did that, Aric looked down on her. He felt pity as he saw all the wounds her body sported. So much of her was damaged, driven to the point of failure. Her lacerated sides, her broken arm, the burn, the blind eye, and an unknown number of dents and scratches. 

"They don't care for you," Aric said frankly. 

Serobi froze and warily lifted her eyes to meet Aric's. "Who?" 

"The ones you work for." Aric shook his head. "It looks like they don't care about you." 

Serobi stood, keeping her eyes lowered. After a silence, the answer was dragged from her lips. " . . . Perhaps." 

Aric nodded. "You should take care of yourself, 'cause nobody else will." 

Serobi stood silent. 

Aric pressed on. "You don't have to go back to them, you can stay here and get fixed, and then . . ." 

She looked up at him with her one eye. "And then?" 

Aric's voice faltered. "Well, stay here. Just stay here. We would take care of you." 

It was now Aric's turn to avert his eyes as Serobi shook her head in the negative. "I cannot remain here. There is only one role for unit Zero-B, and it is not here." 

Aric shook his head, refusing to hear what she was saying. 

Serobi could find no other way to explain what was unalterable, so she left it at that and turned to go. 

Aric grabbed her before she could go more than a step. "I don't want you to go," he protested, his face pressed against her back. "You shouldn't go." 

Serobi paused. "I am grateful to have met you Aric. You were correct, that no one cares for unit Zero-B, except for you." From where she stood, Zero-B could see the town below and the vehicles heading up the road. They would be here within the space of a few minutes. 

Aric hesitated. 

"You have taught me much and given me more. If it were possible, I would return that favor to you, but I do not have such liberty. You do. You can choose your own path, be want you want to be. You have the freedom and courage to seek your happiness. You are stronger than I am. You are my hero, Aric." She patted his hand. "I thank you." She then stepped forward and Aric let her go. 

He watched her navigate across the slope of rubble and climb up onto the wall of boulders. She paused at the cleft and Aric stepped forward, but then she was gone from sight. He ran forward, recklessly sliding and stumbling on the loose rock and then scrambled up the face of the larger boulders to where he had last seen her. Anxiously he examined the hillside below, until he saw Serobi, already some distance away, moving across the desert floor. He waved until he couldn't see her anymore. 

Serobi pushed herself, moving swiftly over the desert terrain. Against her bare hide, the thorns and brush did not slow her in the least. A tempest waged within her, but she steeled through it, focusing on putting as much distance between herself and the Farm as possible. She frequently glanced at the sky ahead of her. Gabriel's orbit would bring it over the horizon within a few minutes and then she would be reacquired. It was indecision that plagued her at the moment. Faster she walked. In her decade of service, she had always felt the collar, always known the weight of her master's hand. Now, in this brief twilight of freedom, the soldier felt helpless and uncertain. As each second passed, the anxiety grew; she knew this opportunity would not come again. She was on the verge of running. The accident in the sea had reset her systems and erased all of the encryption and security measures. There was nothing to stop her from accessing her core, from rewriting her own obedience. Independence was for the taking, if she chose. 

Serobi stopped, the late afternoon sunlight full in her eyes. She was a coward, too afraid to take what Chance was offering her. Freedom was alien to her, unfathomable. She could not act for herself, but there was one thing she could do for another. 

Serobi closed her eyes against the sunlight and accessed the virgin databanks within herself. Her accumulated experiences were there, arrayed for easy examination by the G.I.B. The potent access codes to the G.I.B were there also, along with much more sacred information, but that did not concern Zero-B. There was one way to repay him. She could keep him safe from the Factory, keep him safe from Tiphares. Serobi paused. This was the first time she had ever acted on the behalf of anyone other than the Factory. What she was about to do would earn a death sentence for ordinary ground residents, she did not know what hers would be if this were ever discovered. 

The most recent additions to her mission log, those of the past couple days, resided in a higher priority area. It was the area reserved for information that had yet to be relayed to the G.I.B. "_No one_ will know that Zero-B was here," she reminded herself and then deleted the precious, dangerous information. 

Zero-B opened its eyes against the light and for a moment wondered where it was, where it was headed. Then Gabriel crested the edge of the Earth and the servant was knocked to the ground by an invisible blow. 

Aric sat in the dirt behind the pumphouse, looking at the small pile of freshly turned earth before him. Behind him stood Ganbe and Tillean. A cross made of sticks bound with grass marked the small grave. 

"I guess it was a bad idea," Ganbe said. 

"We can always get another," Tillean replied. 

"No!" Aric shouted. 

Taken aback, Tillean answered, "Okay, nevermind. It was a bad idea," he concurred. He looked to Ganbe for an explanation, who only shrugged. 

Aric took the spade that was lying nearby and stood up, then turned to face Tillean. "What about it's mom, who doesn't know what happened to her child? Did you think about that?" 

Tillean stepped back. "N-No, I didn't. I'm sorry." 

"Sorry won't fix anything." Aric turned away and walked to the pumphouse, to return the spade. 

"It's just a bird, right?" Tillean asked Ganbe quietly. 

Watching Aric depart, Ganbe answered, "It never even got to fly. That's pretty sad, I think." 


End file.
