Whisperworld
Chapter 27
“Oh shit,” I said.
“What do we do now?” Jacks asked. His big hands were crimson with Sidney’s blood. “If we can’t get the robot activation codes from Gregory, we’ll never make it to the Whispers.”
“This thing has gone pretty fucking stormy,” I admitted. I closed Sidney’s eyes. Which was harder than it sounds — the yin’s body was already growing stiff. “But we can still get those codes. I told you that Gregory wasn’t the brightest flower in the garden. We can still do this.”
“I’m with you,” Kiyu said. She reached out and squeezed my hand in hers.
“Are you sure?” Jacks asked. “If the Blackthumbs catch us now and figure out what we’re up to, we can never try this plan again. We get just one shot at this, Julia.”
“We can do it,” I told him.
Jacks sighed. “Alright, let’s go.”
We worked our way slowly through the bright-lit hallways of the base. Jacks and Kiyu stared at the glowing bulbs in their recessed ceiling niches, but didn’t ask any questions. I led with my crossbow as we rounded each corner and passed open doorways. Jacks had reloaded a crossbow from the fallen Blackthumbs and carried it in one hand so he could keep his now-assembled spear ready in the other. Kiyu held her spear loosely, but it wasn’t her weapon that the Greenguard needed to worry about.
But besides those we had already faced, we saw no one else inside. A single bright light tube still glowed in the stairwell leading down to the hangar, so we moved cautiously. I heard a double gasp from Kiyu and Jacks as I pushed open the doors and led them out through the ranks of silent robots. The machines stood like statues, but I couldn’t deny the air of cold menace that hung over their folded limbs and darkened weapons.
“They’re all deactivated,” I whispered. “It’s safe. Come on.”
Kiyu took my hand and I pulled her along behind me. Jacks followed closely. He moved pretty quietly for such a big guy. We kept to the side of the hangar, in the shadow of the robots, just in case any Greenguard were on their way in or out of Gregory’s office. I had been more or less right about the base being empty so far, but there were bodies outside now. As we moved out of the hangar and down the stairs, I heard voices.
“The High Gardener wants another thousand pruned from the city. Today,” Gregory said. I hadn’t missed that voice.
Gregory was answered with groans and gasps. A thousand in one day? There weren’t enough Blackthumbs to do the job.
“Can’t we wait until after the storm, sir?” asked another voice. At least someone still had a little respect for human life.
I held my finger to my lips and stood up onto my toes to peak through the tiny window set into the metal door. Inside, Gregory was pacing and rubbing his hands against his robes as he issued Thorn’s orders to six Greenguard standing at attention on the other side of his desk.
“And what would be the point of that, Basinger? Every day — every hour they remain — these people consume more and more of our dwindling stores,” Gregory said. “The safety of the Whisperward is paramount. The High Gardener knows that requires some sacrifice of life. I want one thousand people outside the city walls by nightfall.”
I slung my crossbow and showed Kiyu six fingers. She pointed to herself and then motioned for us to wait. Jacks nodded and took up a position on one side of the door just like a Greenguard before charging into a suspected criminal’s den. I ducked to the other side, holding my crossbow at the ready.
I grabbed the handle of the door, yanked it open and Kiyu jumped through. I was only a half second behind her, but Kiyu had already pinned the six Blackthumbs against the wall. Arms and legs were bent at odd angles and backs arched up painfully over slung crossbows. The Blackthumbs groaned and one of them screamed in terror at Kiyu. I wondered if he noticed the sweat streaming down her pretty, heart-shaped face.
Since Kiyu had taken such effective care of the Greenguard, I pointed my crossbow at Gregory.
“Nice to see you again, boss,” I said.
“Reed?”
Gregory stumbled back into the filing cabinets, clutching at his robes. He darted his eyes to the Blackthumbs crushed against the wall. No help there.
“We need some information,” I told him. “Maybe you can help us out. Give me the activation codes for the robots. Tell me how to use them and not only do you get to live, but I’ll do you all a favor and save the whole fucking Whisperward.”
“Thorn says you’re a traitor. Tainted,” Gregory said. It sounded like a sob.
“Now would be a really great time to start thinking for yourself, Gregory. The Whitefingers heard the Whispers crying out for help. I know Byron was trying to save them, but it’s not working. The storms are at the city walls. The Whispers are dying and we can only help them if we get into the Stormsphere.”
“The Tear of God is sacred. You wouldn’t dare!”
Piety gave Gregory a moment of something like bravery. I almost felt sorry for him.
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s put it another way. You see that girl?”
I pointed and Kiyu gave Gregory her best chilling glare. To me, it still looked pretty cute, but he had just seen her sweep a half dozen men aside with her mind, so he was probably less inclined to kiss Kiyu and more inclined to wet himself. At least, I hoped so.
“She’s what you call a dreameater, and what I call a total badass,” I said.
Kiyu lifted all the pinned Blackthumbs with a thought, sliding them up along the wall so their legs kicked and dangled two feet off the floor.
“You can tell me the activation codes,” I suggested, “or I can let her rip out what passes for your thoughts, one by one, until she finds what we need. By the time she’s done, it’s going to be a good thing Thorn already tells you what to think, Gregory, because you’ll be drooling mindlessly down the front of your robes for the rest of your life.”
I glanced back at Jacks. Kiyu wasn’t that kind of psychic, but Gregory didn’t know that. The big Whitefinger was giving me a lopsided grin.
“No, please!” Gregory begged. “I… I’ll give you the codes.”
We left Gregory and the Blackthumbs in his office, bound with their own handcuffs and gagged so they couldn’t call for help. We backtracked to the hangar. I repeated the code to myself over and over again.
“Activate as many as you can,” I said.
Jacks and Kiyu seemed a lot less unsettled by the robots this time. The ancient machines were somewhat less menacing now that we knew how to control them. I went to the back of one row and clambered up the folded mass of metal legs. The little plate was an inch below the robot’s head, right where Gregory said it would be. I worked a fingernail into the seam and pried it open to reveal the square of buttons.
I pressed the numbers in the order Gregory had instructed and a deep hum started up in the robot’s depths, followed by a series of mechanical beeps. I hopped off as it rose on spider-like legs and unfolded its weapon arms. A green light glowed in what passed for the machine’s eye. I heard Kiyu give a cheer and then another green light kindled in the darkness.
I ran to the next robot in line. I entered the activation code three times, but nothing happened, so I leapt down and moved along the row. Kiyu and Jacks worked their way along the other side, cursing when they found a dud and shouting when another robot powered up. We moved between dozens of the robots, more than half the hangar. Twenty of the machines turned on, though three of these only sputtered for a moment before going dark again. But time was starting to worry me, so I went to the center of the hangar. Seventeen of the deadly robots were more than enough to get us where we needed to go.
“Mission parameters,” I told the humming, green-glowing machines. Had I remembered what Gregory told us correctly? Well, I would find out soon enough. “Protection detail. Proceed north with us to the… the pea-dee-see. Only non-lethal neutralization of opposition authorized.”
“Acknowledged,” the robots responded in a chorus of shockingly clear, almost boyish voices.
They formed up around us and we marched through the base in a parade of metal and polymer. As we retraced our steps out into the training yard, the robots reacted, two of them moving swiftly and firing at another pair of Blackthumbs just coming through the gate. The two women fell to the asphalt. I checked their pulses and both were still alive, though unconscious. There was an acrid smell in the air that made me dizzy and I hastily retreated.
We moved out into the street. Our work had not gone unnoticed. More Blackthumbs charged up the road, followed at a distance by a curious crowd. A crossbow bolt hissed through the air at me, but then it vanished in a burst of red light. Six of the robots split off silently and fell back, covering our exit. They fired at the Greenguard and held the crowd at bay while the other eleven closed their protective perimeter around us.
I strode through the greenhouses, flanked by Kiyu and Jacks. The dimming gray-green sky cast the glass houses in shadows, but there were spots of bright color inside. The flowers. Food for the dying Whispers.
Silhouettes paced us on the far side of the greenhouses, but whatever the robots used to see, they were a lot more effective than eyes. One of them fired something smoking through the glass. Greenguard and a robed Gardener scattered, staggering and choking, into the road. Our mechanical guardians dispatched them in short order with small, bug-shaped projectiles that made the fallen Greenguard twitch in the dust.
The Houses were full of people. Jacks sent four more robots — two in each direction — to clear out the area. Seven left. I kept my finger on the trigger of my crossbow, but the bolt remained in the groove. I paused, closing my eyes as the robots fought their all too efficient way through another team of Greenguard.
But I couldn’t hear the Whispers.
One of the robots malfunctioned suddenly as we cleared the Houses, sparking and sputtering. It fell into the dirt and we left it behind. Six left. But then we were climbing the rise toward the smooth black immensity of the Stormsphere. Still, I heard nothing, felt no alien thoughts among my own. Were we already too late?
“You two,” I instructed, pointing to a pair of the robots. “Get to the Stormsphere. The pea-dee-see. Quickly!”
The robots moved swiftly. Four left. I broke into a run, but they were still outpacing me. Kiyu and Jacks hurried to follow. There were no refugees gathered in prayer around the Stormsphere. They were all gone and a few rust-colored stains on the concrete suggested that they had not gone willingly.
The shrine appeared at the top of the hill. And Thorn right in front of it, flanked by fifty Blackthumbs with crossbows cocked and loaded. The two robots I had sent ahead were dark and unmoving, down on their metal knees like attentive worshipers before the High Gardener.
The Blackthumbs raised their crossbows and our remaining robot escort swiveled toward them. There was a hiss and thump of displaced air and then more of the buzzing bug shots arced out, hitting five of the Blackthumbs in the chest or shoulders. They cried out and fell in a spasm of twitching limbs.
“Command override,” Thorn announced with icy calm. He held up something that glowed with blinking lights. All around me, the robots made beeping sounds from somewhere deep inside and turned to face Thorn. “Deactivate.”
The glowing green lights went out and the robots sagged to their metal knees with a few ratcheting convulsions. The remaining Greenguard switched their aim from the machines to me and my two Whitefinger companions.
Thorn stepped forward to rest a long-fingered hand on a deactivated robot. I tightened my sweating grasp on the trigger of my crossbow. I could take one of the Blackthumbs, or maybe Thorn, but then I was going to be bristling with bolts like a cactus.
“God entrusted the Gardeners with the old science,” Thorn said. He held up his hand and showed me the metal cylinder he held. It looked a bit like the one that Zach had carried, but this was larger and had tiny buttons on the casing. “This has been an unforgivable waste of battery life. They are my tools, child. You were foolish to try to use them against me.”
“Thorn, listen!” I shouted. “You’re a prick, but I’m not here to fight you. We’re here to help. The Whispers are dying in there! We have to release them!”
“Release them? The Gardeners put those pathetic creatures into the Tears for a reason, Reed,” Thorn said.
“You knew!” I snarled. “You know what’s in there!”
“It was the duty of the Gardeners to catch them and to care for them, Reed. Ours is the burden of knowledge.”
“You don’t know everything, you prick! They don’t need better flowers or better food. They are dying because you’ve imprisoned them, Thorn. The Whispers are begging for help. They’re dreameaters and they’ve filled the world with their cries. Let them go!”
“Of course they’re dreameaters,” said Thorn. The High Gardener’s voice was rising. “Nothing else could operate the Tears of God. But the damned things were too wild. They would never just… be still. We had to abandon our homes, follow them across the deserts like beggars. Never again!”
“But they’re dying!” I shouted. Why didn’t he understand? All of his pride, all of his stupid reasons wouldn’t matter anymore if the Whispers fell silent. They would die and so would we.
“Then we’ll use the Whitefingers and their dreameaters,” Thorn said. The wind was rising, too, tugging at his black robes. “A needle to the right part of the brain to keep them docile, a little cactus and some crickets to keep them alive. So much easier than growing the flowers.”
“You’ll never take us,” Jacks growled.
“We will do what we must. God gave the Earth to men, and to us command of the plants and the beasts,” Thorn said. He leveled his finger at us. “Lay down your arms or die where you stand.”
“Julia,” Kiyu said.
She held out her hand to me and I took it, but kept my crossbow aimed at Thorn with the other. But my ‘bow wavered when I felt something smooth against my palm — the plastic key card.
“Go,” Kiyu whispered.
I fired. With a shout, one of the Blackthumbs crumpled around the bolt in his stomach. The rest swung their weapons toward me and fired. I threw myself to the ground, but the arrows shattered against Kiyu’s sudden invisible barrier. Jacks shot one of the Greenguard down and then ran forward with his spear held low.
“Set them free!” Kiyu shouted at me. My favorite psychic raised her hands and Blackthumbs flew up into the air. “Save them. We can handle this!”
I jumped up and ran behind Jacks, pulling my knife. The Blackthumbs scattered as he barreled toward them. One of them didn’t move fast enough and was skewered like a lizard kebab. Mottled green and brown and polished steel closed in around us.
Thorn bellowed orders to the powered-down robots, but everyone was shouting and even the High Gardener couldn’t make himself heard. He whirled away, jabbing frantic fingers at the device in his hands.
“Keep moving!” Jacks grunted.
A bolt punched into his knee, but the big Whitefinger didn’t fall. I pushed past Jacks, through the hole in the line of Greenguard and sprinted for the temple, but something as black as a storm cloud loomed up before me: Thorn and his damned robot controller.
There wasn’t enough time to reload my crossbow. I swung it like the world’s most awkward club and one steel arm cracked against the High Gardener’s wrist. Thorn shrieked and the control fell from his spasming fingers. It bounced across the dusty concrete and I stomped down on it as hard as I could. I felt more than heard the metallic crunch under my boot. Another irreplaceable ancient artifact ruined, courtesy of Julia Reed.
Thorn drew himself up, imperious and commanding. “Enough. Stop this, child. You know not what–”
“Fuck you, Thorn,” I said and punched the High Gardener in the mouth.
He fell back, spitting blood and teeth. I jumped over Thorn and ran to the temple. The offering tables were empty, but the sweet smell of nectar hung thick in the air. The Whispers that should have been a swelling rasp like the hiss of the ocean all around me were silent.
I’m coming, I thought as loud as I could. I’m coming to set you free.
I had no idea if they could hear me, but I repeated it like a prayer as I nearly slammed into the doors at the back of the offering shrine. I ran down the steps two at a time and between the Gardeners’ edited murals. From the fields of milkweed at the top to the strange, needle-covered trees… The journey of the Whispers. That was what the Gardeners had painted over — the creatures they once revered and now imprisoned in the Stormspheres. What they had hidden away in the darkness.
I jumped down the remaining stairs and staggered to the slick black Door of the Stormsphere. I could barely see, but I found the little red light and swiped the key through the slot. For a heart-stopping moment, nothing happened, but then I realized the dark stripe was facing the wrong way. I flipped the key over and tried again.
The red light turned green and the Door glided silently open.
