A Cold and Heartless Lullaby -Chapter 9-

Leper pushed onwards against blustering winds, trudging through deep snow. Cold clung to his metal, forming fractal frost, but he didn’t notice. He let the howl of the wind drown out his worries and willed it to become the sole subject of his thoughts. His feet kept a steady march, heading straight towards a dark spot on the horizon. 

Leper was running out of options. The pitiful bag of food he had procured was not enough. Furthermore, the city was dangerous. On his own, he never would have been worried, but now things were different. He had to think like a survivor. He needed to find food, shelter, and warmth. He had to choose between the safest paths and the shortest routes. Food was currency. To find wood to burn was like striking gold. Never before had Leper realized how truly desolate his world was until, suddenly, he had to live in it. 

For the greater half of forty-six years, Leper had been reckless, chasing thrill and danger. While the rest of humanity lived every day fearing it was their last, he had watched the world crumble around him without concern. They slept with one eye open and a weapon in hand. Leper didn’t sleep.

Now, as he approached the reverant fort, Leper knew their anxiety for the first time. Dark walls stretched across the horizon, stitched together from ruin and scrap. Like cliffs, they stood over him, a stretch of black space in a void of white noise. It had been years since Leper last visited the New Reverance, and the walls had definitely grown bigger.

He wasn’t sure where the door was, or even if there was one. He approached and knocked on the wall, but there was no response. The sound echoed endlessly up the metal expanse.

From his perspective the walls reached far into the sky, scraping against the gloom. Do they still allow visitors? How did that scavenger get food? Flakes of snow trickled down around him as he walked along the wall, looking for an entrance or some guards, but there were none.

Something caught Leper’s ear and he turned. A dot appeared on the white tundra horizon, accompanied by the sound of a distant motor. Leper had only caught glimpses of wheelers before. It approached, the suspended chassis gliding over the uneven terrain as four legs bent high over the handlebars. Four wheels rumbled over the ground, each with its own leg and its own suspension. They tilted as the rider banked to the right, approaching the wall. In some ways, it looked like a grasshopper, crouched low.

A small door swiveled outwards in the wall and two andron servants stepped out, waiting patiently for the rider to slow to a stop in front of them. They set to work, one taking the rider’s helmet and the other mounting the wheeler and riding off into the base. The door closed again before Leper could reach it. He knocked, but the remaining andron did not respond. Why would it? Leper looked closer and found a small, eye-level slit in the wall that the andron was looking through.

 It stood motionless, its tiny, unblinking eyes staring directly forward.  Leper blocked its view of the tundra, waving his arms. The andron did not respond. It might have been staring straight through him. Figures. Its stimulus is probably taken up looking for wheelers. It’s not even aware of me. 

Leper was trying in vain to force open the door when he heard a familiar sound behind him. Another wheeler was approaching. Leper had an idea. He waited by the door like a guard and as the wheeler approached the door swiveled open and he ducked inside. The wheeler rolled in, its engine bubbling and boiling loudly in the small space. Without hesitation, the rider stepped off and offered the other andron his helmet. When Leper didn’t take the wheeler he got a strange look from the rider.

“Go on,” he said, “Take this to the lot.” Leper stood there for a moment, eyeing the wheeler. He didn’t know where the lot was. “Well, get to it!” The rider snapped, “What’s the deal with this thing?”

Attempting to avoid suspicion, Leper mounted the wheeler, one leg at a time. He glanced down at the controls. There was a small crank in the center and steering bars above it. One of the pumps on the handles must have been gas, and the other must have been brakes. Leper chose one and squeezed it, the wheeler didn’t move. That would be the brakes. The wheeler rumbled impatiently beneath him and the rider sighed before walking away. Okay, this one then. Leper squeezed and the wheeler lurched forward. That’s more like it.

The small garage opened up into the fort at the back and Leper rode out with a gentle grip. In moments he grew accustomed to the controls and he picked up speed and confidence. It was actually fairly intuitive, and it drove as smooth as glass.

Dozens of identical warehouses filled the space between the wall and a curved frozen cliff. Driving past, Leper glimpsed their interiors.  Some were farms, their crops growing under room-spanning lights that hung from the ceiling. Others were packed with supplies. Armed guards took patrol, marching under countless white and gold hanging flags. Like ribbons, blowing in the breeze, they were almost long enough to touch the ground when the wind died. None took notice of Leper as he drove through, but it didn’t stop his soul from pulsing. 

Every intersection looked the same and Leper found no signs of a parking lot. He was beginning to worry that his rumbling wheeler would draw attention if he kept driving in circles. Is it in one of these warehouses? 

Another servant andron rounded the corner, making his way on foot. It took no notice of Leper as it set about its task. The servants always creeped him out that way. Their narrow metal-plated heads held nothing but little holes for eyes. It was a far cry from Leper’s oval glass face and large lenses, but so far nobody had noticed the difference. Wait, was that the same servant?

Leper turned his wheeler down the alley it had come from and found himself heading towards the ice cliff. It was taller than the wall, with pillars of greenish ice formations, like frozen waterfalls, cascading down among hanging lights and metal scaffolding. A giant net held back falling ice chunks in the corner. Nestled beneath it, a row of wheelers was parked under a tarp. Finally.

Leper pulled in and struggled to switch off the wheeler. He tried everything before twisting the crank counterclockwise. The wheeler went silent. 

In the sudden deafening quiet Leper was struck with his own helplessness. Somehow, he would have to find their leader, explain how he had managed to sneak in, apologize for sneaking in, and then ask for a bag of food with nothing to trade for it. It would not be easy. And it certainly didn’t help that he was hopelessly lost. 

On foot, Leper continued his investigation, wary of suspicion from the guards. Androns often disappeared into the background, but Leper knew he stuck out. He poked his head into warehouses as he passed, but none appeared to have food. Some had weapons, one contained a wheeler construction line. 

“Hey!” a guard called, “Andron, what’s your directive? There shouldn’t be any androns back here.”

Leper froze in place, trying to come up with a way to respond. The guard called to his colleague,

“Hey, come take a look at this. I think this andron confused his programming.” 

A guard with a thick scruffy beard appeared next to him, grabbing Leper by the shoulder and turning him around. Leper kept his eyes facing forward as he was inspected,

“This isn’t one of ours,” the scruffy one exclaimed. “How did it get in here?”

“Right now that’s the least of our concerns. What matters is what it’s doing here,” the first guard said.

“We better take this to Roman.”

“You wanna tell the boss we let it slip in?” the first guard asked.

“Well, what are we going to do? We have to report it. This is suspicious activity.”

“Listen to me. We found it outside, okay?”

The bearded one looked confused for a second before it donned on him, “Right, of course, it was standing out by the front gate.”

He waved in Leper’s face, “Do you take commands?” Leper tried to imitate the other andron’s pre-recorded voices,

“Accepting commands,” he said. This is one way to get to the leader. 

“Follow me,” the guard said.

“Acknowledged.” 

He waited until the guards were a few strides ahead before walking after them, trying to keep a consistent distance and an even gait. They led him to the largest building near the back of the fort, its large bay door yawning into the swirling snow. Sitting in the center of the wide-open warehouse was a stack of rectangular black ration bags the size of a small building. This was the place all right. 

The guards led Leper up a noisy metal staircase to a catwalk that overlooked the warehouse below. The stack of bags was almost tall enough to reach them. Roman’s office had access from both sides of the catwalk, his name embossed proudly on both doors. Large glass windows faced the space below.

The man inside treated his small metal chair like a throne. His heavy boots rested carelessly on the steel desk in front of him as he leaned back, balancing his chair on two legs. Tight black curls were shaven on the sides of his head, giving his fierce brown face an aerodynamic quality. His artificially dyed eyes were a sharp yellow. So this is Roman.

Barely giving the room his attention, Roman cleaned a scrap gun that was resting in his lap with an oily rag. Leper had seen the guns before. Spring-loaded rails along the flat top of the weapon could fire almost anything you gave it. A timely invention for a world full of scrap. 

“What have you brought me?” Roman said, without looking up.

“We found-” 

“Before you answer, consider this: Is what you brought me worth my time?”

The two guards traded a glance before the first one spoke up, “We found this andron wandering outside the walls. We think he was trying to get in.”

“He’s not one of ours, your reverence,” the scruffy one added. 

Roman finally looked up from his work. “Let me get this straight. There was a strange andron that wanted in and you brought it directly to my office without any idea where it came from?” He dropped his gun heavily on the metal desk. The guards flinched at the noise.

“We just thought that-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Roman said, “Just bring him here, let’s see what he wants.”

The scruffy guard pushed Leper up to the desk.

“What is your directive andron?” Roman placed his arms behind his head and leaned back again. 

Leper spoke, trying to sound like a recording, “Speak to- the New Reverant fort director, and- request food.” 

“Who is your master?”

Rot. How’d they say it? “Assignment- Leper of the split city.”

Roman set his feet down and leaned forward in his chair, “That’s that ruin back south isn’t it?” 

“Yes sir,” the scruffy guard responded.

“How did this thing get a post-collapse assignment?”

“It had to have been reset, I didn’t know it was still possible. But, then again, I’ve never seen this model, maybe-”

The first joined in, “Woah. Did it just look at me?”

Leper snapped his head back to Roman. Rot. “These things could only process one input, right?” the guard continued, “Can he hear me right now?”

He clapped close to Leper’s audio receiver. It peaked loudly in his head but Leper resisted the urge to react. “I think it must be on the fritz,” the bearded one said.

“Doesn’t matter,” Roman arrested the room, “It can be fixed. Get an engineer to confuse his assignment and we will have him working for us in no time.”

Rot, Leper thought, they have no intention of giving me anything. He needed to think fast.

“Directive,” he said, “speak to- the New Reverant fort director, and- request food.” 

Everyone in the room froze.

“That was creepy,” the first one said, “Do you think it’s listening to us?”

“Impossible,” the bearded one said, “they can only listen after they’ve been requested.” 

“It must be spying on us,” Roman decided, “Take it to be torn apart. We can’t take any chances.”

The guards grabbed Leper’s arms, “Wait!” he cried. They jumped back in surprise at his outburst. “I’m not a spy, my master needs food.”

The room sat in silence, Roman glaring wide-eyed at the metal being before him. He stood slowly,

“That’s no spy…” Roman said, letting out a wheezy laugh. “No no no, gentleman, this is an abomination.”

The bearded guard gaped. “I can’t believe it! This thing has a human soul!” The first guard edged towards the door.

Leper tried to speak, “I—”

“I DID NOT GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO SPEAK,” Roman snapped. “Your very existence is a crime against Sol’s creation. By coming here you have turned his face away from us!”

“All—”

“WHOSE SOUL did you steal, andron?” Roman continued, “Go ahead, tell me.”

“I stole no one’s soul,” Leper said adding, “your reverence,” with a hint of spite. “All I need is one bag of food.”

“Every word you say is a waste of breath. I will not release my goods to an abomination like you.”

Leper couldn’t help it, he began to get angry. “How am I the abomination? What of the androns that serve you? Are they not programmed from the souls of animals?” 

“Our androns were gifts from the original reverants.”

“Gifts?” Leper laughed incredulously, “Your predecessors stole everything they had on the reverant’s dropship!”

“You dare accuse my father of such things?” Roman snapped, 

“You wanted control so you took everything and hoarded it. Forcing anyone who wanted rations to join your cult!”

Roman stepped up onto his desk and his heavy boots strode across it before he dropped to the ground directly in front of Leper. He was half a head taller.

“Surely you won’t miss one bag of food,” Leper muttered.

Roman grabbed Leper by the neck, his fingers nearly touching together on the other side of the metal tube. “You don’t know who you’re messing with, andron,” he threatened, yanking Leper closer.

Completely unaffected, Leper looked him dead in his artificially dyed, electric yellow eyes. “What are you going to do? Choke me?”

That was the final straw. With a grunt, Roman tossed the andron to the ground. Leper clattered loudly across the concrete. “Get this thing out of my sight.”

The guards struggled to pick Leper up from the ground but he shrugged out of their grip and walked away without them. He didn’t need an escort. Instead, they hovered close behind, scrap guns ready. A light tremor shook the dangling lights above the catwalk and Leper looked down at the pile of rations below with a pang of guilt. He had lost control. There was no hope of negotiation anymore. He had failed.

With a clang, the guards slammed the front gate shut, leaving Leper empty-handed in the blowing winds. He wanted to force his way back in and demand rations. He wanted to find Roman and wring his neck. Instead, Leper gave up and walked away, just as he always did.

…

Somewhere in the endless expanse of white, where the storm clouds gathered overhead a spec slogged through the snow with metal legs. There was only wind. There was only isolation. This was the world Kia woke to see.

Leper stopped and closed his shutters, letting himself tilt back and fall into the snow. When he opened them all he could see was the gathering gloom and glimpses of sunlight as it was stifled and choked. 

Kia will die here.

Part of him wished he had never found that pod. For the first time in over fifty years, Leper had been given hope, only for it to be dashed across the rocks. Now he would sit and watch her starve, slowly slipping from his fingers. It was hardly worth returning to her. There was nothing he could do.

Stop. Are you really going to abandon her now? There is always another way. Leper lay there, the words lingering in his head until he couldn’t stand them anymore. He picked himself up out of the snow and looked back in the direction of the reverant fort. It would be incredibly risky but Leper was running out of options. You know what you need to do.