Chapter 3: Harrak (2/2)
Silence.
“As for the imperial family, I saw a man in the pyramid’s throne room. He was quite dead, I’m afraid.”
Silence. The golem looked… dejected. She stepped closer inside of the bunker. Just like the outside, it only smelled vaguely dusty.
“As for the directorate, I don’t know. What is Harrak?”
For a moment, she thought she was being ignored. Then...
//MINUTE ENDED. THIS UNIT IS NO LONGER HANGING.
//HARRAK IS THE CITY WE STAND IN, THE CAPITAL OF THE HARRAKAN EMPIRE AND THE SEAT OF THE EMPEROR, LONG MAY HE LIVE!
It was definitely being a bit weird there.
//WHAT ABOUT THE OUTER PROVINCES? ARE REINFORCEMENTS COMING FROM THERE?
She did not know how much she should state. She wanted answers to her questions as well, and there was a risk that informing the golem of the state of the place could lead it to blow a fuse, or whatever arcane equivalent it had.
“Hmm, can you help me?”
//PLEASE, CITIZEN.
“Alright, fine. As far as I know, your empire has collapsed. The inspect skill calls it “Old Empire” not ‘Harrakan empire’. There could be inheritors left, maybe?”
//COLLAPSED?
“I am sorry.”
//SO LONG AS THE PEOPLE OF HARRAK LIVES, WE WILL NEVER FALL!
Aaaaand now Viv felt like shit. The worst memory of her short career had been once, during an operation around Kandahar. One of the men had received a piece of shrapnel in the back and she had managed to stabilize him, but one look at the wound and she knew he would never walk again. He had been conscious and he had guessed. She always had a shit poker face, one of the reasons why she and her dad never got along.
She had been in a fantasy necropolis for less than a full day and the flaw was already biting her in the ass again.
//CITIZEN, ARE YOU NOT A CITIZEN OF HARRAK?
“I... I’m sorry, I just got here. Everyone is dead. The land is dead.”
//THERE IS NO ONE LEFT?
It was almost plaintive. Again, the tone was neutral and perhaps even a bit cheerful, but it felt forced. The rhythm was off too. Instead of revolting her, it made her feel sympathy. The golem was obviously quite smart. Perhaps it simply lacked the tools to express itself.
“Maybe... maybe far from here?”
//THE CITIZEN OF THE HARRAKAN EMPIRE WOULD NEVER LET THE CAPITAL FALL.
“I am sorry.”
The yellow eyes flashed once. The golem was still not moving. It was also getting a bit late and Viv considered going back. She could still return tomorrow and be fine, as long as there was water here.
The fear of dying of dehydration further dampened her mood. This world was a strange mix of the wonderful and the horrible. There was magic, but also monsters. There was a smart golem but she had to inform it of the destruction of his world. And she was a day away from horrible suffering if she did not find the precious liquid.
“Are you alright?”
//CURRENT STATUS: ENERGY LEVELS CRITICAL.
//REPAIRS NEEDED.
//MAINTENANCE NEEDED.
//CURRENT DIRECTIVES CANNOT BE ATTAINED.
//THIS UNIT REQUIRES HELP.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know where I can find more of those power sources you use, and I don’t think the city can be saved. There is nothing but Necrarchs here.”
//THIS UNIT CANNOT ALTER PRIMARY DIRECTIVES ON ITS OWN.
“I don’t know how to help you. As I said, I just arrived here. I literally appeared in the throne room and I need some help. Would you mind answering a few questions?”
//PLEASE STAND BY.
“Aw, come on, it’s getting late!”
//PLEASE ELABORATE: APPEAR.
Viv stopped and thought. Perhaps outlanders were hunted for sports in those parts?
That was unlikely.
And the golem would not do any hunting. She decided to go for broke.
“I’m an outlander. I think my body reformed in the throne room. That was yesterday.”
//YOUR BODY DID NOT EXIST BEFORE YESTERDAY?
“Well, not in this plane of existence.”
//ANSWER DETERMINED AS: NO.
“Yeah ok whatever. Can you answer my questions? I’m on a schedule. Night falling. Monsters coming. The horrible nausea and headache that come with dehydration. That sort of thing?”
//PLEASE CONFIRM: YOU STARTED TO EXIST YESTERDAY WITHIN THE THRONE ROOM OF THE IMPERIAL PALACE.
“What the hell? Yes! Now tell me where I can find some water!”
//THIS UNIT HAS A REQUEST.
“Ok but later!” Viv said with increasing frustration, “Water first!”
//PROCESSING.
//REQUEST GRANTED. TAKE THE SECOND DOOR FROM THE LEFT AND GO DOWN TWO FLIGHTS OF STAIRS TO THE GENERAL CISTERN.
“No Necrarchs downstairs, right?”
//THERE ARE NO HOSTILES IN THIS FACILITY.
Viv did not wait, she took off and struggled to open the sealed door leading down. It was heavily damaged, and she was forced to kick the hinge until it broke. The stairs were also metal and she slowed down lest they crumbled under her feet and she ended up with a rusty steel bar poking out of her chest. The place she ended up in was the lowest, which, she thought, was not very low. The light was minimal and it came from an open aeration shaft to the outside. She could barely see where she was walking.
The second door moved with little effort.
Inside, she found racks upon racks of supplies of one sort or another extending into the darkness. Only the words of the strange golem gave her the confidence to search the room. Fortunately, the massive shape of the water reservoirs were easy to discern. There were three of them. Her skin suit-covered hands searched the surface and found no opening. There were none below either.
Her panicked mind conjured images of magic dispensers but she dismissed them soon enough. This was the army. The army would never use complicated or expensive stuff when a simple tap would do. She circled around and found it on the other side.
She switched it and liquid came out. It was water, stale and tepid and with a vague iron taste. It was one of the best drinks she had ever had.
You are no longer dehydrated.
“Fuck yes. One less immediate cause of death.”
The tank had been hermetically closed and a tap on its smooth surface had confirmed that it was still full. She had enough there to last her a long time. Things were looking up.
Viv felt, once again, weird about the entire thing. She was caught in a death trap but it had only taken her one day to find food, water, and shelter. She had almost died to a weird monster, had found a somewhat friendly war machine, and now she was rummaging through a magical armory. And that was without even considering the existence of magic and gods and how she could interact with them via the interface. She wanted to share this with Mouq and her friends back home. Mouq would probably tell her to shut the fuck up and to fill the flasks because night was coming.
Right.
Pouring water in the rigid flasks proved to be an annoying endeavor, not least because the neck was slightly too small and she was wasting water. She filled two and headed back up.
The big war golem was in the middle of some intense discussion with itself.
//CONSENSUS NOT REACHED.
//ALTERING PROCESS MODULES 17,19,43,51,52.
//ERROR.
//TERMINATING PROCESS MODULES 19,52.
//MEMORY PURGED.
//CONSENSUS REACHED.
//AWAITING CITIZEN.
“Hm, hello, I am here.”
//GREETINGS CITIZEN, WAS YOUR QUEST FOR ITEM: ‘WATER’ SUCCESSFUL?
“Oh, yes, thank you.
//EMPATHY EXPRESSED, RETURNING TO MAIN OBJECTIVE.
//CITIZEN, THIS UNIT HAS A REQUEST.
“Ok but quickly, I really need to go for the night.”
//REQUEST: THIS UNIT DOES NOT WISH TO DIE.
…
That was something she could definitely sympathise with.
“You need my help?”
//DOES THE CITIZEN AGREE WITH THE REQUEST?
“I need to know more.”
//THANK YOU FOR CONSIDERING MY REQUEST, CITIZEN.
“Sure.”
//EMPATHY EXPRESSED, RETURNING TO MAIN OBJECTIVE.
//CITIZEN, PLEASE CONFIRM THE FOLLOWING STATEMENTS.
//TO YOUR KNOWLEDGE, THE EMPIRE HAS COLLAPSED.
//TO YOUR KNOWLEDGE, THE PEOPLE HAVE FALLEN.
//TO YOUR KNOWLEDGE, THE EMPEROR AND HIS FAMILY HAVE PERISHED.
//TO YOUR KNOWLEDGE, YOU BECAME ALIVE WITHIN THE WALLS OF THE IMPERIAL PALACE.
“Hmm. Yes, yes, yes, and yes?”
//CONSENSUS CONDITION: THE CITIZEN WILL BIND WITH THE GOLEM CORE TO VERIFY THIS INFORMATION.
//THIS IS A SIGNIFICANT REQUEST, CITIZEN. YOU WILL BE COMPENSATED FOR YOUR SACRIFICE.
“What? What sacrifice?”
//THIS UNIT WILL GAIN FULL ACCESS TO YOUR INTERFACE DATA AND MAGIC FIELD DATA. THIS UNIT APOLOGIZES FOR THE BREACH OF PRIVACY. YOUR PERSONAL DATA WILL BE KEPT SECRET UNDER IMPERIAL LAW. YOUR PERSONAL DATA WILL ONLY BE ACCESSIBLE BY A DULY APPOINTED STATE-LEVEL INQUISITOR IN CASE OF LEVEL FIVE INVESTIGATION OR ABOVE.
“You’ll get to see my interface? And personal data?”
//YES. THIS UNIT REALIZES THAT THIS IS A SERIOUS REQUEST.
“Hmm.”
It would have shocked her more if her preference in underwear was not stored on at least seventeen different servers back on earth to be sold to advertisers. People here apparently took the interface very seriously.
“Alright then, how do we proceed? And hurry, I need to be back before the Necrarchs come out to play.”
//THIS PLACE IS SECURED AGAINST NECRARCHS. THIS UNIT HAS HUNTED MANY NECRARCHS.
“And how long since you last went out and killed one?”
//SEVENTEEN YEARS, EIGHT MONTHS...
“Yeah so there could be one in the hangar and you would not know. How long till nightfall?”
//ONE AND A THIRD OF A PERIOD.
“...”
It took Viv one minute, counting seconds in front of the golem then doing a bit of arithmetic to realize that this planet was rotating slightly slower on itself than earth. A day here was about twenty-six to thirty hours long depending on how much she had fucked up beating seconds for the golem to count. She still had three hours before it got dark enough for the creatures to come out. One hour and a half should be more than enough to head back as she had wasted quite some time finding her way around.
The strict geometry of Harrak made orientation easy. She was six blocks left and three up from the pyramid entrance.That was a long stroll if one wanted to be careful, but nothing insurmountable.
“Ok, how do we do this?”
//PLACE A DROPLET OF BLOOD IN THE PROCESSING UNIT’S BINDING NODE.
Viv had no problem finding the cute little rectangle set in the massive crystal and metal cylinder. The difficulty arose when she realized she had no tool to draw blood. In the end, she had to open her skinsuit to free an arm, and use the claw of an old golem that had not seen combat in forever and hope that it was more or less sterile. It was the best she could do.
//WHY NOT USE MY RAVAGER BLADE? ITS SHARPNESS IS WITHOUT EQUAL.
“How many times did it end inside a Necrarch though?”
//SIX HUNDRED AND TWENTY-SEVEN TIMES! THIS UNIT IS A GLORIOUS SERVANT OF THE EMPEROR, LONG MAY HE LIVE!
“That was a rhetorical question, buddy. I don’t want dry Necrarch juice under my skin, thank you very much.”
You are about to allow a foreign entity full access to your interface. This process cannot be reverted. Are you sure you want to proceed?
Wow, way to make it scary.
“Hold on, you will have access to the content of my interface all the time?” she asked with a bit of anger.
//UNTIL THE BOND IS BROKEN. YOU MAY MANUALLY BREAK THE BOND.
“Is this the only way to save your life?”
//IF YOUR STATEMENTS ARE CORRECT, YES.
She stopped.
She was going to do something special for a perfect stranger. To her, the weird golem was quite obviously sapient and sentient so she would help it if she could, but her own life was also important.
“Can I trust you?”
//THIS UNIT’S EMPATHY MODULE WAS NOT CREATED WITH THE ABILITY TO DECEIVE.
That was totally what someone with a deceit module would say. Ah, the feverish sensation she was feeling was messing up with her mind.
“You got to help me afterward, I want to live as well.”
//IF THIS WORKS, I WILL DO MY BEST TO ASSIST YOU. IF THIS DOES NOT WORK, I WILL DO MY BEST TO ASSIST YOU. MY ASSISTANCE WILL BE OVERWHELMINGLY MORE USEFUL IF THIS WORKS.
Ah, what the hell.
Yes.
//DATA RECEIVED. ANALYSIS. ANALYSIS COMPLETE.
//TIME OF EXISTENCE OF THE BODY: ONE DAY.
//STATED PLACE OF ORIGIN CONSISTENT WITH CURRENT MANA DISTRIBUTION
//CONSENSUS CONDITION CONFIRMED.
//CITIZEN REDESIGNATED AS HEIR TO THE THRONE.
“Excuse your pardon what?”
//ONLY MEMBERS OF THE IMPERIAL FAMILY MAY GIVE BIRTH IN THE IMPERIAL PALACE.
//CITIZEN WAS BORN WITHIN THE IMPERIAL PALACE.
//CITIZEN IS A MEMBER OF THE IMPERIAL FAMILY.
//ALL OTHER MEMBERS OF THE IMPERIAL FAMILY HAVE PERISHED
//CITIZEN IS HEIR TO THE THRONE OF THE EMPIRE, LONG MAY SHE LIVE!
//PLEASE STATE YOUR NAME, YOUR GRACE.
“What? But…”
She wanted to protest but stopped. It did not matter if he called her citizen or heir or auntie Suzette, what mattered was getting out of the city, and she assumed that giving her a big status related to how he could survive and assist.
“Call me Viv, I guess.”
//BEEB
“No, Viv, as in Viviane. Viv.
//BEEB, AS IN BIBIANE. BEEB.
Viv thought that the golem was fucking with her, but she scoured her newly acquired knowledge of his language and realized that they never, ever, used the sound v.
And boy did that piss her off.
“Viv.”
//BEEB.
“Seriously, can’t you recreate the sound, at all?”
//THIS UNIT HAS NO NEED TO USE THE LANGUAGES OF THE BARBARIANS AND INFERIOR CULTURES. THE TONGUE OF THE HARRAKAN EMPIRE WILL ALWAYS SUFFICE, GLORY TO THE HEIR! LONG MAY SHE LIVE!
“Just fucking call me Bob, why don’t you.”
//REQUEST GRANTED, YOUR GRACE, PRINCESS BOB. THIS UNIT PLEDGES ITSELF TO YOU.
You have received the allegiance of [HX-013 Experimental Strike Golem, designation: Solfis].
Ah, fuck.
//SET NEW CURRENT DIRECTIVE, YOUR GRACE.
“Keep us both alive.”
//NEW DIRECTIVE ACCEPTED.
There was silence for a moment. The golem’s yellow glare stopped flashing and turning around and seemed to land on her with a singular intensity. It was strange to see this mighty war machine unmoving on the ground. The golem must have been an incredible force in the distant past. Now, it was the only thinking being left in this horrible place besides her, comrades in misfortune brought together by their distinct tragedies.
//THANK YOU, PRINCESS BOB.
And it was already being a jerk.
Solfis the sassy war golem of ultimate mispronunciation sent her on her way after determining the location of her camp and the best path to it. Apparently, it had waged war against the Necrarchs for three centuries, the time that had elapsed since the fall of the Harrakan empire. It and its brethren had not died like everyone else during the cataclysm, and they had fought the undead that had come to populate the place until they ran out of power.
The idea of undead was not new to her. They had been a pain in her backside in Minecraft already. She was curious about them but Solfis had informed her that there would be ample time to discuss this later.
In the meanwhile, Solfis still knew where most Necrarchs concentration had gone and he shared the details with her. Apparently, they rarely moved at all. Her arrival must have kicked the hornet’s nest. The upside was that Necrarch had haunts (haha), and they would often dwell in the same place. That made them mostly predictable.
She found the circle with time to spare. The feverish feeling decreased as soon as she stepped in gave her a sensation of intense relief, and she realized that the strange radiation was affecting her mind. Not that she had much choice, and not that befriending Solfis had been a mistake. It was her ticket out of here.
She also realized that while she had the basic necessities, she had nothing else.
She had a small pot, but no way to light a fire. A thorough search of the supplies yielded no obvious lighter, matches, or wand-of-press-here-to-solve-all-your-problems. There were no books either.
After quickly mounting the tent, she realized that she had nothing left to do but to twiddle her thumbs until night came.
A quick inspection of her interface revealed nothing new or exciting.
[Maradoc: God of Travels and Mysteries]
Yeah you already said that.
[Nous: strange god of magic and granter of the interface, which allows sentients to understand and interact with the forces of magic.]
She wondered if Solfis had an interface as well. Probably, if he was able to see hers.
She needed a backpack to carry stuff around. She had fabric, but no needle or anything. The sleeping bag would do if she was desperate.
And that was it, that was all she could think about.
She was left with her thoughts as the invisible sun (she was pretty sure there was just the one) continued its course behind the thick curtain of dreary clouds. The shadows could not even lengthen as there were none.
Why did she even end up in this place?
Did she really die? Or was her soul somehow transported? What had happened to everyone once they had found her corpse? Would they bury her in Nice with the rest of her family, or would the military take care of it? She did not know. She had not checked. Her will was made and she had even written messages to be sent to people she liked in case of her demise, since life as a soldier had its risks. The minutiae of burial were not something she had cared about.
She hoped everyone would deal, but she knew that a mysterious death on the battlefield would bring questions and concern. It was one thing to be killed in combat, another one to fall mysteriously.
She hoped she would see her family and friends again.
Her eyes grew embarrassingly wet, with nothing to distract her from her predicament.
Ah, fuck it.
In the heart of the metropolis, a small voice rose in defiance. It did not reach past the small square where the outlander hid, and yet the spirit of it crossed through space and time to convey its priceless message. It was in bastardized English, with a horrible mix of French and Cockney accent.
“Soooooome things in life are bad, they can reaaaaaally make you mad,
Other things will make you swear and cuuuuuurse!
When you’re chewing on life’s gristle…
Don’t grumble.
Give a whistle!
And this’ll help things turn out for the beeeeeeeest.
Aaaaaaaaaynd
Always look on the bright side of life. Tudu. Tudu tudu tudu...”