Chapter 28
"He's the only stable thing in the swirling chaos."
― Beth Revis, A Million Suns
"Gabriel is missing," Kikara appears behind Mirasal, dabbing her tears with the pads of her fingertips. "He said he'd be right back and it's been all day," she pauses, sniffling before continuing. "I don't know who else to go to. It's just I'm scared."
"He probably went home to Susana-" Mirasal stumbles, almost dropping the empty metal tray she was holding as Kikara suddenly wraps her arms around her.
"No. He would have said. He would have. He wouldn't have left without telling me. There's something wrong," Kikara replies, gazing off, shaking her head. "I didn't mean to act...I mean I-" she squeezes her tightly, almost crushing her. "I don't know what to do. I don't know who to talk to."
"You don't need to do anything, it's fine," Mirasal sighs, taking this almost-apology for what it was, squirming, but ultimately yielding to the embrace. "I'm sure he's around. Don't worry."
Kikara straightens, giving one last sniffle before she wonders off. "I'm going to the kitchen. More drinks are needed." she says as she nervously surveys the crowd, scuttering through the sea of rowdy guests.
As evening approaches, the lights in the hotel are coming on, illuminating the lobby. Mirasal looks up the main stairwell, eclipsed by all the people meandering about, trying to see if Robert was going to surface. Perhaps he's tied up with a client. He mentioned there could be potential business deals around. She was anxious for this convention to end-and it looked like it was going to be a while longer- as their discussion before was abruptly interrupted by Tomah.
She leaves the tray on a nearby stand and heads to the room, squeezing her way in between the patrons, passing by Tomah having a debate with the Aniterran inventor.
"You invaded our planet first." the man says as Tomah shakes his head at him. His response is muffled as she gets farther away from their impromptu parley.
Upon entering her room, however, there's nothing but an empty bed and no sign that he was anywhere.
"Robert?" Mirasal stands, glancing around when she catches something on the nightstand, obscured by the lamp and barely visible.
"What?" she whispers as she moves to take a closer look; the turtle trinket. Undoubtedly the one she'd made. She takes another cursory scan of the room.
No Harold either. Perhaps that is where Robert is; off with his brother.
Hope warms over her as she touches the turtle. The room suddenly becomes shrouded in darkness with but a single large beam of light flooding down upon a circle of eleven human males, all varying ages, all wearing coal-black uniforms with large gold buttons along the breast. Each one with a distant mien and an aura of somberness, murmuring among themselves. Their eyes are a pupilless smooth marigold as they stare down at one laying in the center.
The man's features are obscured by the other men's legs, only hints of a tuft of silver hair visible amid their boots.
A younger one, merely a boy, comes forward, gazing down at the deceased. "Our mighty brother, once strong and beautiful, who arose from the Prim with us is dead. Poisoned and weakened and now dead." The boy kneels down to place two large rose petals upon the man's eyes. All eleven drop their chins and start to say a prayer in an indiscernible language.
With her breathing heavy, Mirasal slowly, charily, begins to approach the group of strangers, none of whom seem to take notice of her presence. Before she can get a glimpse of the dead man's face, the young boy appears to direct a question at her.
"Why? Why would the chard-dah have done this?" he queries, looking directly at her.
And with that she was back in the room, the odd scene having dissipated.
She stays in place, taking in deep shivering breaths, clutching the carving to her chest. That same feeling from before compels her to place it in her pocket.
A sudden gentle knock makes her jump.
Teora stood in the doorway. "I don't know what to do about Kikara. She's crying about Gabriel. She thinks something happened. It's getting a little uncomfortable."
"Alright. I'm coming."
As they walk down the hall, Teora halts, "Facala," she mutters, teeth gritted. "She's in our way. She wasn't there when I came up. Where has she been hiding? She comes out now?"
Ellowyn stood at the top of the stairs, looking out over the scene, her back to the two women. Richie was dutifully at her side, the electricity within his clear head scintillating brilliant blue.
"We can just go past her. I don't think she'll-" Mirasal begins before being cut off by the pressure of Teora's fingers taking hold of her right forearm.
"Ow..."
"No, I don't want to go near her," she urges. That same nagging sense of dread was trembling through her veins. She tightens her grip on Mirasal's arm. "Let's just wait here a moment."
Mirasal blows a sigh through her lips, trying to loosen Teora's grasp. "Fine."
Below the balcony, a tourist is standing before a tall bulky humanoid droid, reaching up to touch its blank, flat metallic face. "Fuckin' cool man!" he exclaims, grinning at his reflection in the glossy metal.
"You are an asshole." the bot says, backing away, swatting at the man's hand.
The man frowns at its human creator. "Hey, your machine just called me an asshole. Didn't you program it to have some manners?"
"Machines are to be treated with respect," Ellowyn declares as she remains firmly at the top of the main stairwell, like a Queen holding court. "They think. They feel. They are self-aware. They can be affronted. The only one in need of manners is you, dear sir."
She sends an icy glare down to the man. "One day," she continues. "You will all be a footnote to their greatness."
This draws chortles of derision from the people, tourists and roboticists alike, as well as a mumbled "This bitch is crazy." from one spectator.
"Now," Ellowyn raises her hands, twirling her index fingers. "Let's get this party really going, shall we?"
Just as quick as the words were spoken, the bulky droid proceeds to grab the obnoxious man by his throat and cleanly snap his neck, his wife shrieking and crying as he drops to the ground with a pronounced thud. Collective gasps are heard across the room as each droid, small and large begins to attack; their own makers, the guests, all swarming and attempting to evade the onslaught of violence. Screaming and crying, with some trying to shield their children.
"What is happening down there?" Teora, panicked, keeps a tight grasp on Mirasal as Ellowyn turns on her heel to face them. Richie's dome head rotates, the blue lights within once again taking on a bright red. His body soon follows, spinning to face Teora and Mirasal as Ellowyn points.
"Aw, there you are," she grins, her eyes now sparking yellow. "Richie wants to play again, darling."
Mirasal steps in front of Teora as Richie comes at them, her metal fist coming up to smash his glass dome as he jumps at them. With Teora screaming as Richie hits the ground, Mirasal grabs her by the arm, glaring at Ellowyn.
"Come on! My room now!"
They run, with Richie still behind, leaping past frantic guests, crawling along the ceiling towards them like a spider. Teora halts in shock to gawk at him scurrying along the interior.
"He didn't do that before!" she exclaims as she starts running again.
Mirasal's room comes into view as she stops to usher Teora inside.
"Get in! Now!" she yells. The sounds of the continued attack downstairs are thunderous as Teora dashes inside. Mirasal throws open the desk drawer containing her gun, along with a box of extra bullets.
At that moment Richie is at the door, viciously pounding on it. Teora begins to scream again.
"I need you to stay calm alright?" Still holding her gun, Mirasal moves to cup Teora's cheek, trying to fight back her own tremors.
As well as her own fear.
"He's going to kill us!" Teora wails. "They all are! I knew this would happen! I didn't trust that old bruga! Is she doing all this?!"
"No," Mirasal offers firmly as the pummeling on the door continues. "He won't. And I don't know." She moves to wrap an arm around Teora's quivering shoulders as the pounding only intensifies. Mirasal stares at the door, flinching with each strike to the wood.
"Get the girls out of here. Now." Nehautor orders as Arnamina begins to gather up her three daughters, balancing Aradea on her hip. The pounding on the front door causes the walls of the modest home to vibrate. A single candle atop the fireplace begins to slide towards the edge.
"Nehautor! I know you're in there! You can't hide from this any longer!" comes a gruff, hateful voice.
"What's he here for? What does he want?" Arnamina asks, before she maneuvers the children towards the basement.
"Just, now. Get in there now and lock it." comes Nehautor's impatient response as he shuts the double doors.
"Think we can go out the window?" Teora inquires, moving to open one of them. Mirasal stops her.
"No. Too dangerous."
"More dangerous than here?" Teora argues.
Smash!
Richie manages to bust through the top half of the door, his slender fingers scrambling to locate the doorknob. Mirasal moves to punch his arm back, with Teora close behind, swatting at him before he catches a clump of her mane in his hand.
"Ah! Ow!" Teora yells as he attempts to yank her through the growing gaping hole in the door.
Aiming carefully, Mirasal points her gun and fires, shattering half of his dome head. He releases Teora and staggers back, his electric current inside flashing and briefly dying out before he lunges again. He breaks down the door, sending Mirasal and Teora flying backwards, the gun tumbling from her grasp.
Mirasal kicks Richie back with both legs as he pounces on her, the turtle carving falling from her pocket. At that, Richie's burning red light switches back to blue, the beady button eyes fixing on the trinket, backing away.
Mirasal snaps up her gun and fires another round as the bot exits, running back out. Catching her breath, her gaze switches between the destroyed door and the turtle laying on its side among the wood splinters.
She grabs the carving back up and returns it to her pocket.
In the kitchen, chaos is erupting as Kikara races to push whatever she can in front of the door. Everything from shelves taken from the wall to a small wooden stand and two stools. The door's small window now cracked as a drone had attempted to bust through, throwing itself at the glass like a deranged bird.
Radaha arms herself with a frying pan. "That's not going to keep those things out." she says as she watches Kikara shove the items in front of the entrance in vain.
"Tomah is still out there, though. Miri and Tee." Kikara whimpers.
"He's ex-military, he'll know what to do," Radaha replies, holding up the large heavy metal pan. "He and Mirasal both. We need to worry about ourselves."
Just then a loud unidentified crash happens outside the door, shaking the building. Screams of pain and terror are rumbling throughout the hotel. Loud footsteps overhead as people continue to run for their lives.
"What is this? Why are they doing this?" Radaha ponders aloud, mystified.
"Gabriel..." Kikara whispers as she removes a hammer and a large butcher knife from the drawer.
"Shut up! Let it go! He's probably dead," Radaha sneers, shaking the pan at her. "He's gone. Let it go and focus on you. On us surviving this. Whatever got him, it's over with."
"Don't say that!" Kikara hollers back.
"Look," Radaha moves to get in Kikara's face, taking her by the chin. "My people believe in self-preservation. Accept and move on. Worry about your own survival. If he is dead, you have to accept that now. We won't survive if you can't let go."
Crash!
Another mysterious sound reverberates throughout the walls around them.
Mirasal guides Teora through the halls, passing by corpses of both human and non-human, with visible bloody wounds. Her heart skips a beat as she sees an auburn-haired man laying on his back, the tension draining as she comes into view of his face.
Not Robert.
Teora almost trips over a young human man slumped against the wall, a small drone sticking out his mouth, tiny sparks shooting from its exposed inner circuits.
"Where is she, where is Ellowyn?" Teora says as she casts a horrified look around at the carnage. "We find her, she's doing this. I know it."
"Seems she is controlling them somehow. All of them. But how?" Mirasal replies, carefully keeping watch as they round a corner. All the robots seemed to have went back down to the first floor after taking out the upstairs guests.
However she was doing it, Teora's suggestion was not wrong. Finding this woman was the key to ending this madness.
And finding Robert, Harold and the others.
"And, what was Richie so afraid of? He ran out of the room pretty quickly." Teora does a little jog to catch up to Mirasal's rapid pace.
"I think it was..." Mirasal begins, running her fingers over the dark blue material of her pant's pocket, feeling the outline of the trinket.
Just then they come across Tomah, his left eye bruised, sitting beside the Aniterra inventor's lifeless body, blood coursing from the man's mouth.
"He's gone," Tomah somberly says. "I tried, there were too many of them. Had to hide in the hall closet. I'm fortunate they didn't find me. Would have been two bodies," he brushes his fingers over the Aniterra's large oval eyes, closing his lids.
The clear sounds of heavy footsteps are fast approaching as Tomah jumps up.
"In that empty room." Mirasal points as they sneak inside and quietly close the door. Tomah makes a beeline for the window, seeing a string of guests making their escape, pursued by the killer droids.
"More out there." he says as Mirasal moves beside him, peering down.
"They're out there," Neseret says as she stands perched on a faded wooden crate, peeking out the narrow window of the basement. "They're arguing."
Mirasal runs over to join her, gazing out at Nehautor and another man she didn't recognize, dark, with writhing tentacles along his jaw. No doubt a Podmalo.
"Get away from there you two. Now," Arnamina demands. "There could be more of them out there."
Mirasal flinches as Tomah touches her shoulder. "I think we should get down there, see if Kikara and Radaha are alright." Tomah says, looking dejected.
"We may be too late." Mirasal says glumly, a heaviness enveloping her as nausea grips the pit of her stomach. She glances to the doorway.
"Let's go. I think they're all downstairs." she offers. No guarantee, since there is some slight movements in the adjoining rooms. But it could be guests who have shut themselves inside.
"You have a spare gun?" Tomah queries.
"No," Mirasal replies. "Just the one."
Outside the room, Mirasal almost bumps into a mother and her son emerging, having barricaded themselves in their room's closet. The boy attempts to run forward, his mother hooking him by his sweater collar.
"No! stay back!" she chides, meeting Mirasal's gaze.
"I said get away from there!" Arnamina commands again as she tries to keep Aradea in her arms while gesturing for the twins to refrain from spying.
"They're fighting though." Neseret argues, still staring out into the murkiness, Nehautor's glowing cybernetic eye highlighting the two men in a turquoise hue as a verbal argument starts to get physical.
"Fasare!" Mirasal yells as she leaps down from the crate and runs towards the basement exit.
"Mirasal! No! What are you doing?! Come back!' Arnamina shouts as she reaches for her daughter, stumbling along the way.
Mirasal races up the steps and pushes open the doors.
Mirasal gestures for Mother and son to go back in. "Stay there, too dangerous."
As they hesitantly make their way to the balcony, they spot Ellowyn, her appearance more paler, gaunt. Her eyes now pitch black. Her newly-acquired servants hoarding around her, seemingly admiring the carnage they've created strewn along the room; heads torn from their bodies, arms and legs scattered around and blood splatters painted along the walls.
Richie, hanging from the chandelier above the lobby, swings and jumps down, landing in front of Mirasal, Teora and Tomah. Mirasal quickly reaches for the turtle, holding it out as Richie recoils back, his normal 'beep' sounding more deeper and far more threatening. His half-blown off dome shooting red sparks.
"You don't like that, do you?" Mirasal smirks as she keeps the carving held out towards him, pointing her gun simultaneously as Richie circles them, seemingly trying to find a way to attack without touching the trinket.
She could fire, but there were so many bullets remaining and in the time it took her to reload, this thing will have torn her and the others to shreds.
As the face off continues, a ruckus begins below the stairwell as Kikara and Radaha come running out of the kitchen, brandishing their kitchen appliances-turned-weapons, Radaha striking a small drone that comes speeding towards her. Kikara striking another diminutive droid attempting to attack her.
"Get away!" she screams as she smashes it's metallic skull with a deft swing of her hammer, hurtling it backwards.
Then, Harold waltzes through the lobby doors that open on their own, allowing him to glide in, a figure of perfect calm amid the feverish chaotic scene. His necklace is shining, casting a blindingly white glow as he saunters to the center of the lobby.
Just as Richie lingers back, Mirasal fires, blowing the rest of the cracked glass noggin away as he falters, landing in front of Teora. Grabbing a cane off the body of a nearby older dead male, she begins to strike Richie's metal torso, the life gradually draining out of him as his inner light fizzles out like a candle flame in a breeze.
"I hate you! I hate you!" Teora shouts as Tomah and Mirasal attempt to hold her back, linking their arms around her shoulders to subdue her fury.
"Calm down." Mirasal says, trying to remove the cane from Teora's fingers.
Mirasal runs towards the edge of the cliff where Nehautor was being cornered by the Podmalo, his tentacles still writhing in agitation. Grabbing a large stick, she runs at the man, striking him along his forearm and lower back.
"Get away from him! Get away!" she yells as she swats at his slick black skin, crimson red tattoos visible atop his round head, even in the minimal light of the moons.
"Mirasal, no! Get back inside!" Nehautor growls. "Go! Now!"
Shar'imo, puzzled, looks down at his small assailant, glancing between her and Nehautor before he lets out a bemused laugh.
"What is this? Calm down little one." he chuckles as he violently grabs her by the back of her dress, removing a knife from his belt and pointing it at her throat.
"No! Let her go!" Nehautor snarls as he comes forward. Shar'imo tightens his grip on her as she struggles to break free.
"Stay back, I will." Shar'imo says smirking, dragging Mirasal to the edge of the cliff.
Arnamina bursts out the front door of the house, Aradea now in Neseret's arms, following close behind. Inside, the single candle has dropped from the mantle into a woven basket, its modest flame beginning to ignite the wood splints.
Outside, Arnamina is screaming as Shar'imo lifts Mirasal from the ground, her small feet now being dangled over the cliff, above the crashing waves and sharp rocks below.
"No, stop!" Arnamina's screams are half-wails as she falls to her knees.
Nehautor raises his hands. "Put her down Shar'imo. You don't involve the family, remember? That's the code we've always used-all of us. No matter which fleet." he keeps his steely gaze on Mirasal, squirming, with terror spreading across her visage as she kicks her legs.
"You know I don't follow any code, Nehautor."
"Just don't do this. I don't have your money. It was between you and Cyate."
"He's dead. Now you owe his debt. If I have to take it in the form of your family's lives, I will," Shar'imo grins derisively."She's not even your kid." he chortles as he holds her out further. Mirasal suddenly halts her fidgeting to grab one of his tentacles and chomps down on it.
"Ahhh! You little!" Shar'imo sends her hurtling towards a nearby boulder, her small body striking it. Her mother running towards her and the fire now engulfing her home fading out.
"Oh no." Tomah nudges Mirasal, his widened eyes are on Ellowyn, who lets out an otherworldly shriek at the sight of her fallen robot. Her limbs grotesquely start to expand from her body, stretching, twisting, curling around the banister as she leaps up over the balcony, her eyes now two large yellow orbs pinned to the three. Her small army of bots follow suite.
Heart pounding, Mirasal aims her gun at Ellowyn, her other hand still holding the turtle. Ellowyn comes to a skidding halt in it's sights. The small carving's eyes are now glowing like two stars.
"Skoldpadda." Ellowyn hisses, her voice rancid.
Harold removes his necklace and raises it above his head, its streams of white light shooting out, touching the crystal of the chandelier above, making it sparkle like brilliant diamonds.
"By the power of the White!" he shouts as the droids, having paused along the steps, turn towards the older man. Ellowyn blinks down at Harold as he continues.
"By the power of the White! I order you!"
The robots switch course and come for him, crawling over each other, pushing each other aside, flying down towards him with Ellowyn leading the charge.
"Harold." Mirasal whispers as she points her gun directly back on Ellowyn as she moves.
"What are they doing?" Radaha queries as she and Kikara keep their weapons raised, relieved that the bots have now started to withdraw away from them. She and Kikara back away as the glow from Harold's talisman brightens as the robots circle around him in a pack, their hands reaching for the necklace, as if entranced by it. They swarm around him like a pack of lions sizing up their prey.
"I order you by power of the White!"
With that a flare of light emits from the stone of its center, like a camera flash, and each droid drops to the ground, the drones falling from the air. Their bodies splaying over each other in a pile of clinking metal.
Ellowyn's yellow orbs are now a snowy white as she screams, her elongated limbs flailing. Mirasal fires at her, blowing off Ellowyn's head, her body tumbling onto her army. Limp and lifeless.
Harold lowers his arms, gazing down at the carnage of both artificial and human. Mirasal runs down the staircase. Coming to a stop in front of him as he places the talisman back around his neck.
"Robert?" she blurts out.
"He is fine. I assure you."
Relief washes over her as she smiles. '"Weapon," she says as she nods at his neck. "That's what you meant," she holds up the turtle trinket. "And this."
"A good luck charm, for protection," Harold says as he clears his throat, a stern look now developing. "I must apologize for what I must do now."
"What-"
With that, he lifts the necklace and another burst of sheer white light floods the room.
