Authors: Jonathan Davison
The tunnel took a steep incline and narrowed. As they drew nearer the opening, it was clear that the breach was as small as the diameter of a sentient’s shoulders, just enough room to scrabble out on all fours. Standing beneath the orifice, the light streaked down and created a perfectly round spot on the tunnel floor. Sarazen could not help but step into the spot lit area and as he did so he looked up to the sky and held his palms out as if to catch the rays in his hand.
“
How is it?” Kerrig asked with a smile as he saw the pleasure it brought to his old friend.
“
It is magnificent,
” Sarazen replied with no hint of understatement.
“
It is also very bright.” Kerrig was not surprised - their ocular sensors were adapted for the zero light conditions beneath the surface. Some period of adjustment was necessary.
“
May I?” Kerrig whispered as he too moved into the light. The two sentients huddled together closely to ensure they were fully bathed in the wash of photons which somehow, brought back feelings of comfort and contentment.
“
Do you feel it as I?” Sarazen asked knowing already Kerrig's answer.
“
It is compelling. Indeed I do.” Sarazen was not satisfied however, he had not come this far only to stop now.
“
Do you really need to go on?” Kerrig asked hoping that the light would be enough to quench Sarazen’s thirst for nostalgia.
“
More than ever,” t
he troubleshooter replied as he began to ascend the steep incline to the surface. Kerrig silently cursed. His friend was incorrigible.
Sarazen pulled his mass up the rocky wall and eventually reached the summit, where he carefully poked his head above the surface and scanned the environment, firstly for immediate danger, then to take in the vista. Saying nothing, he silently pulled his upper half through the hole and his legs quickly followed although a little ungainly, he belied his age in the swiftness of his movement. Kerrig, seeing that his friend was through also climbed up and poked his head through the hole. He could see Sarazen before him, standing upright and proud, flitting his head around as he tried to take in the magnificence of his surroundings. The breach of the surface was well hidden as it was surrounded by densely packed and monstrously tall seters The surface was soft with the mulch, fallen materials shed by their appendages and the noise of the organics who inhabited their uppermost regions, dominated the audible spectrum. Beyond the seters, Kerrig could see the feint outlines of the structures of the city limits and with them, the dread that was in accompaniment.
“
Come!” Sarazen whispered as he took a few steps towards the new city.
“
I dare not!” Kerrig replied, not yet poking more than his head from the breach.
“
I understand.” Sarazen replied magnanimously as if he had some method to read Kerrig's thoughts. Sarazen took a few more steps before Kerrig urged him to stop.
“
No! You must not! You have seen the light and the new city, you have seen the organics, what more is there!” Kerrig whispered as loudly as he could whilst still being able to capture the attention of his wandering charge.
“
You did not expect me to come this far and turn back did you? I must satisfy the burning questions in my mind, I must see with my own eyes what has become of my city, I must question The Mother and find out her motivations. If the sentients are to survive to be free, then I must do this.” Kerrig was astonished by Sarazen’s lack of wisdom.
“
No! This is futile, you will be terminated!” He rasped but Sarazen was focused on his objective. He turned his head and gave a parting wave before vanishing between the seters and into obscurity.
“
Incredible!” Kerrig said to himself as he watched his friend depart. Knowing he could do little more to aid him, he descended to the tunnel below and sat on a rocky outcrop awaiting his return. He knew, however, that he may be there some time.
CHAPTER 22
Sarazen carefully and quietly stepped through the seters, taking notice of how their large expansive canopies attempted to capture the light of the Star by reaching out as far as their branches could go. The shade produced by the selfish seters denied both him and the ground dwelling organic creatures the Star’s balmy radiance. Moving from seter to seter, Sarazen neared the first of the structures that signified the beginning of the city. It was already apparent that the city had not only grown outwards to accommodate its inhabitants, but also upwards as the pinnacles of the highest spires towered high above and could be seen from the ends of the world. Sarazen hypothesised why the city had expanded so. As the number of organics had increased, perhaps the number of silicants would have also had to grow in order to facilitate their upkeep. Somehow though, the organics did not seem to require this level of care anymore, the proliferation of the seters and all those that dwelt in their homely appendages was immediately striking. Where there were once barren, arid plains there were now organics as far as the eye could see. Indeed, the organics were now in danger of invading the city as their growth continued right to the very limits. Where the concrete jungle ended, the organic one began. Perhaps, Sarazen mused, that is why the city buildings grew taller and taller as there was little more room to expand to accommodate the silicant collective?
Sarazen emerged from the noisy bush and took refuge behind the large, plain wall of the building. He could not immediately determine what its purpose might have been; it held no windows so he assumed that it was not a living space, more likely a storage facility or a constructor's work area. Creeping around its circumference, he took note of what lie before the building. A series of similar buildings and a transit line bisecting them. There were no immediate signs of movement. Sarazen pondered over how he imagined the silicants to be now many generations had passed. Would he still be modern enough to pass as one of them, or were they now so visually different that he would be instantly scrutinised. So many questions arose and the answers were all so very elusive, unless he opted to take the risk that he had cogitated over so frequently in his time in The Ward.
Sarazen may have been out of date, but he was still a troubleshooter and bestowed with a logical, methodical mentality. Knowing the risk he took by revealing himself to the city’s inhabitants, he knew however that their reaction to his presence was still not as certain as Kerrig would have him believe. Sarazen thought back to the cycle of his banishment, the unfortunate confrontation with the operator that taught him so graphically about the true nature of violence and its subsequent psychological effects. At that time, he walked through the streets of the city as he did now, wondering, waiting, not knowing if he could pass by as a stranger or be recognised by an aware and cynical population. One thing tasked him from the memory of that cycle though, something that he could never release from his thoughts. On that morning, stepping on to the transit carriage, having just escaped a violent destruction from a marauding enforcer, a paranoid and cynical troubleshooter alighted that carriage in the hope that he could once again share in the wisdom and friendship of the farmer, Cole. Of course, the altercation with the operator changed the events of the morning significantly. The one thing that always concerned Sarazen however was the operator's perceived awareness of his rogue status. Had he acted too hastily and attacked the operator out of hand, or were his instinctive reactions the only thing that saved him from being called out and identified there and then? Perhaps the operator was entirely oblivious to Sarazen's wayward intentions and was just in the wrong place at the wrong time? The only way to know for sure would be to once more reveal himself to the scrutiny of the city but this time, not be too hasty. Despite the operator's demise only seeming to be a few cycles past, an age had transpired in between then and now. Time, Sarazen had learned, is a peculiar concept that cannot be fully defined. It was time to test his hypothesis and determine whether time long passed was going to be a factor in his continuing survival.
Determined to not look too surreptitious but keeping well within the vicinity of the forest for a quick escape, Sarazen boldly stepped out from behind the building and into the street. Knowing that the natural behaviour of the silicant was not to pause, dawdle or look pensive, he tried his best to look confident in his gait and to have purpose in his movement. It was not long before he viewed a small gathering of gleaming individuals ahead. This part of the city was obviously not yet in occupation as it was quickly revealed that the presence of constructors meant that it was a site in the process of being built. Perhaps this was an opportune time to test his hypothesis. It was unlikely that even if detected, a group of three constructor drones could outwit the now sentient and overall more confident individual. On approach, Sarazen could see that the constructors were working on a drainage system; one noisily operated a noisy machine whilst the other two waited for the operation to cease. As he neared, the tension level rose like Sarazen’s core temperatures. The Star was hot and its light warmed the troubleshooter’s extremities to the point where he began venting to cool his internal components. Resisting any urge to greet the busy constructors, he did need however, for them to at least notice him as he passed by or the experiment would not work. On closer inspection, the constructors had not changed greatly over the passage of time. Their model may have been upgraded, but their general physical appearance was much the same. This was good news for Sarazen. He hoped that the troubleshooters were equally as constant. Being the lone occupant of the street, it was unlikely that the constructors would not pick up on his presence in their site, but ordinarily, this would not have been a cause for concern. As Sarazen passed the constructors just as the first of them silenced his machine, Sarazen glanced over nervously to be greeted with three pairs of eyes, trained on him. Not being able to fight off his nervous energy and struggling to stay aloof, Sarazen could not help but nod an acknowledgement of their attention.
“
Morning,” h
e said and then cursed silently as he berated his stupidity and awaited with anticipation the reply. The constructors looked at him quizzically, curiously. Sarazen realised that this could have been an error in judgement.
“
Sir, I think you are in error, the Star is high in the sky, and the morning has long passed. Perhaps you should seek the advice of a troubleshooter.” The first constructor chirped before once again realigning his machine and re-firing the mechanism. Sarazen continued to walk on, hardly believing the situation he found himself in. He had not been detected, despite his corroded, archaic form, his inaccurate greeting and his location far from the beaten track. This was indeed a revelation that deserved more investigation.
Despite the need to hurry back and reveal his findings to Kerrig, who by now was probably beside himself with worry, Sarazen resisted the urge. Knowing that as long as he did not draw any undue attention to himself, he would be able to move amongst the drones with impunity, Sarazen decided that more exploration was feasible and indeed long overdue. Trying his best to keep an accurate sense of his position, he continued to walk down the deserted street in the direction of the heart of the city. Perhaps he would even catch the transit line to save his legs the long walk?
CHAPTER 23
Sarazen’s newly found freedom did not go to his head. He knew that if he were not back in The Ward by the dark phase, then he would surely be detected as an anomaly and pursued. He felt that as long as he moved, acted and communicated like a drone, he would most likely be admitted to the more generalised areas of the city. The only concern that was apparent was the sight of a far off airborne drone that seemed to hover menacingly then fly with great speed across the horizon. Perhaps these were the dreaded interceptors he had been told about.
Sarazen had no specific goals or places he wanted to see. The city was unrecognisable from his own previous experience. This was a chance to explore, acquire data and feel a little more free than he had done in the tight confines of The Ward. He had no desire to invite conflict - he had seen the consequences of incurring the wrath of the enforcers. Sarazen theorised that the city’s centre would most likely be free of such aggressive variants, after all, before his sentience, he had never even seen one of the cursed machines.
Sarazen walked as far as the next transit line which was as busy as any he had seen, multiple carriages operating within moments of each other, their rattling, whining noises dominating the audible landscape. As the new buildings of the construction site were left behind, the offices, workshops and factories appeared before him and silicants were seen to be wandering up and down the pathways, the Star light flashing off their breastplates. This was to be the confirmation of the knowledge already collected; perhaps one incident could pass as an error, or even chance. Sarazen boldly made his way to the transit station where several carriages and possibly his fate awaited him.
Sarazen joined a long queue of silicants, all courteously awaiting the next carriage. Such close proximity to his kind felt curiously satisfying but equally as terrifying. One administrator in front of him turned around and took notice of his dishevelled appearance.
“
My, what a mess!” s
he remarked, then turned back around and rocked her head gently from side to side as if humming a silent melody. Sarazen almost sighed in relief but remembered to keep himself in check. So far so good.
The transit carriage arrived only a few moments later, the frequency of their service impressive. Sarazen watched carefully as each silicant boarded and took their seat. Finally it was his turn to alight and select a destination. This was going to be slightly tricky in that the city would most likely have changed radically. Sarazen knew the address of his home quadrant and took the gamble that it was still relevant. Stepping up to the operator, he waited for the expected greeting and it transpired as hoped. The tatty troubleshooter then quoted his destination and with thanks and some relief, it was accepted without query. Sarazen stifled a chuckle as he turned to realise his favoured front seat was still vacant, and sat knowing that he could enjoy the cities sights and sounds like never before and in the comfort of knowing that for some reason, The Mother had forgotten about him, a troublesome troubleshooter from long, long ago.