Chapter Two
I looked at the waitress, urgency rising within me like lava within a volcano. I pointed at the telescreen. “Miss waitress, where is that parade taking place?”
The waitress glanced at the telescreen above and then looked back at me. “Ya mean the Annual Unification Day Parade? It's in downtown Xeeon.”
“What's the quickest way to that parade from this restaurant?” I asked, already prepared to run.
“Just go down the main street, take a right when you get to the Police Center, and keep going down that alleyway,” said the waitress. “Should take ya there no problem, though I doubt ya'll get a good spot. Why?”
“Many thanks, miss waitress,” I said as I turned and headed for the doors. “Perhaps I will return someday to give ye a tip for helping me so, assuming I do indeed find the person there I am searching for. Farewell, and may the Old Gods be with ye!”
The doors opened just as I approached them, but that no longer startled me so. Indeed, I was pleased as a pygmy when I crossed the threshold and headed down the main street, just as the waitress had suggested, praying to the Old Gods that I would get to the parade in time to see my sister again for the first time in six years.
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Run! I told myself as I fought through the crowds of Xeeonians traveling along the crowded streets. Run! Do not let your sister get away! Do not hesitate, nor tremble, nor allow doubt or fear to fill your muscles with lead or freeze your bones to the marrow.
How thankful was I for the waitress's simple directions! Down the main street I ran, heading for the Police Center, which was distinctive among Xeeon's many buildings, for it was shaped something like a castle, with turrets and towers rising up out of the corners. 'Twas even easier to spot, for those bothersome robots flew from and onto its turrets, perhaps reporting in or coming to charge their energy from a long day's work.
Though it mattered not to me what they were or were not doing. Once I spotted the building, I turned right down an alley, dashing past a couple of youngsters who looked at me as I ran, like they had never seen a real live Delanian before. My dress was unusual, but I was in such a hurry that I did not dwell on their possible opinion of me.
The alleyway I ran down was narrow and dingy, a stark contrast to the clean street I just left. Ahead, I could hear the sounds of strange music bellowing, that horrid electronic mess that sounded to me less like music and more like broken wires hissing through the air. Under normal circumstances, I would have been running the other way in order to escape this terrible music, but knowing that my dearest sister was there, watching the parade, I kept going.
Just as I reached the middle of the alley, something jumped down from the roofs nearby and landed in mine path. I skidded to a halt, almost tripping over a discarded beer bottle on the street, and righted myself as I looked upon the newcomer, who stood up to his full height.
No; not 'his,' but 'its.' The figure standing before me was a machine; not one of those J series robots, but a completely different kind of robot I could not identify. 'Twas humanoid, but whereas the J bots had at least a semblance of a human face, this thing had no facial features at all. Its face was as blank as a canvas, which made it resemble Falnoth the Old God, which was so uncanny that it made me shiver in my clothes.
Yet that would not have deterred me from going around it, if only the robot had not drawn a long, silvery sword—with blinking lights running along its flat—from its waist. It drew the sword with the same expertise as the Knights of Se-Dela drew theirs, which made me wonder if this bot had somehow been trained in the way of the Knights.
Whilst the robot drew its weapon, the sounds of the parade grew fainter and fainter, which told me that I had no time to waste if I wanted to reunite with mine sister in time.
Thus, I pointed at the machine and said, with as much authority as I could muster, “Foul clicker, get out of mine way. I do not have time to waste talking with a pitiful machine like yourself.”
“Talking?” said the robot, its voice as metallic as the sword it carried. “I am not here to talk.”
My eyes darted to the blade it held, which looked even sharper than the blades used by the Knights. “So ye wish to fight me. Is that it?”
The robot raised its sword until its tip was pointed at me, like the arrow of an archer. “How could you have ever guessed? I can see that you are an intellectual of the highest order. I wonder if your intellect matches your skill in combat.”
“I did not know that robots were capable of such biting sarcasm,” I said. “But it matters not, because even if ye wish to fight me, I still have more important matters to attend to.”
“Not unless I challenge you to a duel,” sad the robot, its sword never wavering in front of my face, “which, according to the Knight's Code, means you must accept, if I am not mistaken.”
I looked down at mine clothes. I had not brought my sword or any other weapon with me when I came to Xeeo today, mostly because I had not expected to get into a duel with a faceless machine. 'Twas a decision I started to regret with great sorrow, despite knowing Xeeonite laws preventing Delanian citizens from bringing weapons with them through the Portals.
So I looked up at the clicker again and responded, “I must decline this offer for the moment, machine, because I am unarmed. If ye are such an expert on the Knight's Code, ye would know that no Knight of Se-Dela can challenge an unarmed foe unless he is willing to offer that unarmed foe one of his own weapons.”
“Good thing I'm not a Knight of Se-Dela, then,” said the robot. “I only made that offer to see if you would be naïve enough to accept it.”
“It matters not whether or not ye were serious,” I said. I pointed at the bot sharply. “Who are ye and why do ye stand in mine way like a rock wall? 'Tis an annoyance, which is all ye bots are.”
“My name and identity are unimportant,” said the robot. “I was given one mission, and one mission only: To keep you from reaching the Annual Unification Day Parade. Any way I can.”
The robot charged at me, sword swinging before it as wildly as the claws of an angry big cat. The clicker moved faster than any machine should have been able to, but I was able to jump out of the way to avoid its attack.
Or would have been, if the robot had not come to an abrupt halt and slashed its sword toward me in the direction I had jumped to avoid it. The blade was coming at me too fast, like a wasp flying in the air, and I tried to step back to avoid it.
But, whilst I avoided getting my gut cut open, the sword blade did indeed cut through my shirt and skin. 'Twas nothing more than a flesh wound, perhaps, but the pain was as real and burning as any, making me curse as I clutched my bleeding stomach, which began to stain mine clothes.
Yet I was afforded no time to focus on that problem, for the robot was upon me again, mine blood coating its blade, and raised its sword to strike once more. I staggered back, trying to stay out of its reach, but the bot kept advancing, its faceless plate preventing me from seeing what it was thinking. Perhaps that was not necessary; I already knew what this monster wanted, which was hardly a great mystery at this point.
Whilst I tried to avoid getting hacked to pieces like fresh meat under a butcher's knife, the electric music blaring from the parade, along with the cheers of so many different peoples and species watching it, grew fainter and fainter with each passing second. How much time the Old Gods had given me before the parade ended entirely, I knew not; therefore, it was imperative that I end this conflict quickly.
I nearly tripped over something and glanced down to see it was a metal trash can lid, lying in the street as though discarded like it was itself trash. I quickly picked it up and held it before me in the same manner I would hold a shield of the Knights of Se-Dela, though I was fully aware of the futility of this action, particularly with mine still-bleeding gut.
“Reduced to using a trash can lid for a shield,” said the robot, shaking its head as it drew closer to me. “How pathetic.”
I still backed
up until I hit something solid and metal. I had backed into one of the buildings which formed this alley, but before I could do anything, the robot swung its sword at my head again.
I ducked immediately. The robot's sword collided with the wall, sending sparks that bit at the back of my neck. The impact of the blade against the wall caused the sword to fly out of the robot's hand. The robot looked over its shoulder, watching its sword fly away through the air like a bird flying for freedom, whilst I took advantage of this opportunity and charged at the robot behind mine makeshift shield.
Yet 'tis not as successful as an attack as I hoped, for when the lid crashed into the robot's body, the robot held its ground and did not so much as budge one inch from its current position. Amazed by this, I forgot to dodge the robot's incoming fist.
Oh! How it hurt to be hit in the face by this machine's fist! Stars flashed in mine eyes, while my jaw felt like powdered mush in my mouth as I staggered to the side, still clinging to the trash can lid in my hands. Hot blood trickled down the side of mine face, rolling down from my temple, though I had no time to deal with that at the moment.
I shook my head and recovered in time to see the robot advancing on me again, although it had not bothered to retrieve its sword. But I highly doubted that the machine needed any sort of weapon to kill me; indeed, a weapon likely would have gotten in the way of its mission. Its hands alone looked strong enough to break my neck like the neck of a chicken.
By now, the sounds of the parade had grown perilously faint indeed. Deep in my heart, I feared that Kiriah had already left, returned to wherever she lives in this damn city, but still I clung to the hope that she had not yet left, that today would indeed be the day I reunited with her.
Whilst I was a brave Knight of Se-Dela, I knew I was no match for this mechanical monstrosity. It would keep going no matter what, even if I did mine best to beat it; 'twas one of the worst qualities of Xeeonite clickers, doubling also as one of their best. 'Twas only so long I could go before my wounds caught up to me and forced me to give up.
Nonetheless, I hurled my makeshift shield at the machine. It did not bother to so much as duck; instead, it knocked the spinning lid out of the air with one hand, causing the lid to crash onto the pavement under our feet.
Though I barely paid attention to that, because the second I had thrown mine makeshift shield, I turned and ran, ran as fast as I could, down the alleyway toward the street where the parade was being celebrated. Perhaps a foolish attempt, for I was still bleeding and in pain, but I was too desperate to care at this point.
I heard the quick, light steps of the robot behind me, coming after me as swiftly as a swift hunting cat. I did not even look back, for I feared that looking back would only result in my end coming that much more quickly.
But then I heard something flying through the air behind me and I tripped. I fell on my face, hitting my head against the pavement and making my head bleed even more. A quick glance at mine feet showed me that they were bound together by a metal chain that was attached to the robot's hand.
The fiend! It caught me with its chain, but I did not have time to free myself, even as I rolled onto my back. For the robot was upon me once more, raising its sword above me, ready to hack away at my flesh with it. The sun shined off the robot's face plate, reflecting so brightly that I had to squint to protect mine orbs from being damaged forever.
But I was not about to let this clicker kill me. I kicked out with mine feet, striking its own and knocking the machine to the ground. As it fell, it dropped its sword, which clanged against the pavement next to me, loud in mine ears.
Yet I did not hesitate. Instead, I reached over and grabbed the sword, wrapping my fingers around the blade as tightly as I could, and then tried to raise the sword.
'Twas almost too heavy for me to lift, but I was strong and I raised it nonetheless. Sitting up, I swung the sword at the chain around my ankles, snapping it effortlessly and allowing me to scramble back to mine feet as the robot rolled away from me. It jumped back to its feet and held its hands before it in a fighting stance, like it had been trained by a professional fighter of the highest caliber.
“Run, machine,” I said, holding the sword in both hands, though it was hard to maintain such a posture due to my bleeding gut. “Or I will use your own blade against ye.”
The robot jerked one of its hands toward me, like it was pushing air at me. 'Twas a puzzling gesture, but then the sword flew out of my hands back toward the robot. The blade landed on its outstretched hand, and as soon as it did, the robot closed its fingers around the handle and held it in both hands like how it had before.
“Magnetism,” said the robot, no doubt in response to my confused expression. “Very useful for when I lose my weapon like that.”
“'Tis like the magic of Dela,” I said. “Are ye certain ye are no wizard in disguise?”
“It's not magic, but science,” said the robot. “Though I suppose that's to be expected from you Delanians, who couldn't tell the difference between the two even if it slapped you in the face.”
The pain in my abdomen burned, causing me to grab my stomach. It was not a conscious reaction; I was simply reacting on instinct to the pain which harmed me.
This turned out to be a mistake, however, because the robot charged at me again. It jumped into the air, swinging its sword wildly, while I staggered out of its path.
Luckily, I managed to avoid the sword; however, when the robot landed, it swung the remaining chains hanging from its hand at my face. The metal chain struck me in the face, a hard, sharp blow that sent me staggering to the side. I almost tripped over my feet again, but caught myself before I could do so.
Yet I had little time to recover, because the robot was coming at me again. I backed up as quickly as I could, because there was no hope in the two worlds that I could possibly win this fight.
“Technically, I don't have to kill you,” said the robot, its metallic voice as menacing as ever. “Just keep you from getting to the parade. Nonetheless, I can tell you will be a bigger threat in the future if you're allowed to live. Killing you is the only way to deal with you permanently.”
“But the J bots will find mine body,” I said, walking backwards as fast as I could, holding mine hands over my bleeding wound to stem the flow as best as I could. “Murder is illegal in Xeeo and Dela. They will eventually track my murder back to ye, and then ye will be dealt with like any other criminal.”
“A naïve thought,” said the robot, shaking its head. “Haven't you wondered why no J bots have yet to intervene, despite our fight not being in the center of Xeeon? If you understood the answer to that, you would understand why you're going to die today.”
The answer did come to mind immediately, but 'twas so horrible that I dared not utter it. Nor did I need to; the robot raised its blade again, and this time, I knew there was not a thing I could do to stop or avoid it.
Yet before the swordsrobot could bring its blade down on my head and end my life, it froze like the ice sculptures of the Winterlands. At first I thought it was some kind of trick, one final ploy to make me give up in despair, but then the robot collapsed onto the street, its sword clanging against the pavement beside it.
What in the names of the Old Gods was this? Was this divine intervention? Was I—
“Hey, Rii!” shouted a feminine, shrill voice I had not heard before. “Stop standing around like an idiot and get over here!”
I looked around in shock, trying to locate the source of that voice, when I noticed a young woman—Rathonian, based on her large, apelike frame and the antennas sticking out of her head, though truth be told, I did not know my Xeeonite species as well as I should have—standing at the other end of the alley, gesturing for me to come toward her. In her other hand, she held some kind of small device, but what it did, I could not tell from this distance.
“What are you waiting for?” the Rathonian woman asked, speaking in remarkably clear Delan, despite the fact that she was clearly n
ot a native of that world. “Come on now! He won't stay down forever. Or do you want to die?”
What a foolish woman. I did not want to go with her, nor did I wish to stay here and die. Though the sounds of the parade were farther away now than ever before, I still believed, with the faith of a priest of the Old Gods, that if I ran now, I might finally be able to reunite with my sister.
But then the pain in my wounded abdomen burned and I grabbed it with both hands. The blood was hot and sticky, as blood always is, and I suddenly felt far woozier than I did before. 'Twas like getting punched in the face by an angry dwarf, a feeling I knew well, for I had once been assaulted by such a dwarf when I and my fellow Knights were attempting to capture a well-known criminal who had a penchant for punching those he disliked in the face.
I staggered toward the woman, but I had lost too much blood, which made even that basic movement as difficult as if I was swimming through a thick chocolate river. Blood dripped onto the pavement underneath me, but I was so absorbed by the pain that I barely noticed. All I was aware of was that my consciousness was fading … fading … fading …
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