Bron’s ropes. They tied so many, it looks like an anaconda’s coiled around him. I’m not even halfway done when he flexes his arms and the remaining coils fall away. The machine passes us as Bron stands and the sight of a twenty foot, brass giant sends the guards scurrying to safety.
We untie the others and the Titan stops at the mouth of the ramp leading up to the main entrance. Time is in seriously short supply, but we can’t just leave without Dhal. He’s the only one who knows how to work this thing. But, more importantly, this place’ll be crawling with hundreds of those bearded White Rock Keeper guards and there’s no telling what they’ll do to the kid once they get their hands on him.
Oleg and Bron are staring in awe at the machine’s glowing yellow eyes . I start racing toward the collapsed scaffolding and already I hear the sound of boots charging toward us, men shouting orders and weapons being readied.
The Titan lets out a metallic shout and it stops me dead in my tracks. I turn to see the top of its head peel back and a tiny figure stand up. It’s Dhal. He didn’t just start the thing, he’s driving it and, judging by the smile on his face, having one hell of a time in the process. The hatch slams shut and Dhal begins steering the machine up the ramp. The others are close behind and so am I. A moment later, we’re through the front doors. There isn’t any sign of those White Rock guards, but Commander Tind’s surely gonna be mad as hell when he hears what we’ve done. My only regret is that we only came away with one of those metallic beasts. Somehow, I’m not quite sure it’ll be enough.
-1 5-
Azina
It feels like we’ve been following this old road forever. Highways, the Dusters called them, and, like long spindly fingers, they once stretched into every nook of the country. At least that was what Oleg told us, during one of his particularly boring historical sermons. More amazing were the mechanical boxes on inflatable wheels that used to clog the streets of million-man cities. That sort of transportation certainly would have served us well on our long trek from Sotercity. Back when Oleg first spoke of the old world highways, Bron’s initial impulse had been to doubt what the old man was saying, although even he couldn’t explain the not infrequent rusted hulk, rotting away on the side of every major thoroughfare. That the Keeper elite had outlawed any form of motorized locomotion was grounds enough for a rebellion in my view. Not that people knew what they were missing. Technology was the Keeper’s currency and the carrot and stick they used to exert control. Only they could issue the necessary licences for engineers to work bits of metal into cogs, springs and gears. Master Lund was a member of an exceptionally tiny group. A group that a snotty nosed Dhal was likely excluded from, given he didn’t have a license of his own. But the truth was, those Keeper sonsabitches were sitting on more than one technology that could revolutionize the world. I’d seen it with my own eyes and I’m not just talking about Bron’s arms. Course those were a marvel and Bron’s father had to pull the kind of strings only the very wealthy can afford to grasp to get them. Machines like Goliath seemed to be the next stage, kept underground and hidden away from the masses. Control the technology and you control the people. That was how Oleg had explained the Keepers’ position. What use would a horseless wagon be to a Grinder anyway; they didn’t have the time or the means to go off sightseeing or traipsing off on long trips. Besides, there wasn’t much to see, not in the empty, mostly desolate space between cities. Didn’t matter if you were a Grinder, Prospector, Trader or a Merc. In the Keepers’ eyes, you were little more than a brainless child.
Klaus is beside me , still staring on with those bright, bulging eyes like he’s never set foot outside of Sotercity his entire life. Though
We untie the others and the Titan stops at the mouth of the ramp leading up to the main entrance. Time is in seriously short supply, but we can’t just leave without Dhal. He’s the only one who knows how to work this thing. But, more importantly, this place’ll be crawling with hundreds of those bearded White Rock Keeper guards and there’s no telling what they’ll do to the kid once they get their hands on him.
Oleg and Bron are staring in awe at the machine’s glowing yellow eyes . I start racing toward the collapsed scaffolding and already I hear the sound of boots charging toward us, men shouting orders and weapons being readied.
The Titan lets out a metallic shout and it stops me dead in my tracks. I turn to see the top of its head peel back and a tiny figure stand up. It’s Dhal. He didn’t just start the thing, he’s driving it and, judging by the smile on his face, having one hell of a time in the process. The hatch slams shut and Dhal begins steering the machine up the ramp. The others are close behind and so am I. A moment later, we’re through the front doors. There isn’t any sign of those White Rock guards, but Commander Tind’s surely gonna be mad as hell when he hears what we’ve done. My only regret is that we only came away with one of those metallic beasts. Somehow, I’m not quite sure it’ll be enough.
-1 5-
Azina
It feels like we’ve been following this old road forever. Highways, the Dusters called them, and, like long spindly fingers, they once stretched into every nook of the country. At least that was what Oleg told us, during one of his particularly boring historical sermons. More amazing were the mechanical boxes on inflatable wheels that used to clog the streets of million-man cities. That sort of transportation certainly would have served us well on our long trek from Sotercity. Back when Oleg first spoke of the old world highways, Bron’s initial impulse had been to doubt what the old man was saying, although even he couldn’t explain the not infrequent rusted hulk, rotting away on the side of every major thoroughfare. That the Keeper elite had outlawed any form of motorized locomotion was grounds enough for a rebellion in my view. Not that people knew what they were missing. Technology was the Keeper’s currency and the carrot and stick they used to exert control. Only they could issue the necessary licences for engineers to work bits of metal into cogs, springs and gears. Master Lund was a member of an exceptionally tiny group. A group that a snotty nosed Dhal was likely excluded from, given he didn’t have a license of his own. But the truth was, those Keeper sonsabitches were sitting on more than one technology that could revolutionize the world. I’d seen it with my own eyes and I’m not just talking about Bron’s arms. Course those were a marvel and Bron’s father had to pull the kind of strings only the very wealthy can afford to grasp to get them. Machines like Goliath seemed to be the next stage, kept underground and hidden away from the masses. Control the technology and you control the people. That was how Oleg had explained the Keepers’ position. What use would a horseless wagon be to a Grinder anyway; they didn’t have the time or the means to go off sightseeing or traipsing off on long trips. Besides, there wasn’t much to see, not in the empty, mostly desolate space between cities. Didn’t matter if you were a Grinder, Prospector, Trader or a Merc. In the Keepers’ eyes, you were little more than a brainless child.
Klaus is beside me , still staring on with those bright, bulging eyes like he’s never set foot outside of Sotercity his entire life. Though
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