12 Miles Below

To’Orda lay flat on the floor by the dim functioning lighting of the old human ship, staring up at the ceiling above, hands stretched out on both sides. His gut told him this would work. After all the work he did to get this old starship’s comms system working again, it had better work.

The Deathless was safely all the way at the bottom of the ship, with a shock collar. And that human knew if he misbehaved, To’Orda would give control of that collar to his pet rock. Who was far more vindictive about… well, just about everything.

Since then, the captive had remained brooding and talking to the bird further up the tree. The rate of progress in learning the language was pitiful, so To’Orda tuned it out.

“It’ll work, trust your gut. Plan’s good.” To’Orda’s pet rock chimed out from the top of the console he’d left it at. The accompanying image of a head pat and smiling mini-version of himself shone in his mind. “It’s all still there in your noggin. Just a little dusty is all. So have a little more faith in yourself bud. You got this far.”

To’Orda’s features did a strange thing with his mouth, teeth being bared slightly out. None could see it, since his shawl hid his features. He only belatedly realized he’d moved any muscles a few seconds later. The program stack trace showed a sub-routine that controlled his features automatically. Mostly frowns, narrowing eyebrows, and squinting eyes. He hadn’t known it could also control his mouth. Rather, he hadn’t remembered it even existed for the past few decades now. It had been steadily running in the background, loyally following its primary instructions all this time.

“He’s talking to himself again.” To’Sefit giggled in the chat channel, reminding To’Orda that he wasn’t alone. “I don’t know if I should find it endearing, or worrying. To’Avalis, what are your thoughts on all this?”

“I’m busy with matters.” To’Avalis hissed in response. “Ping me when something more important happens. This is a delicate operation that hinges on everything working exactly on time.”

“Oh my, is someone perhaps a tad bit moody with our little ‘deathless’ problem out and about again?” An infuriating giggle came out across the comms, along with the image of To’Sefit knocking on her head, one eye winking out with her tongue stuck out, her free hand holding that giant hat from falling off. There was even a tiny gold star twinkling out the other side. Some stylized artistic choice To’Sefit must have dug out of the archive somewhere.

That particular image had been used multiple times now, mostly because it clearly infuriated To’Avalis. His sister had been particularly vicious ever since she saw blood in the waters. The image generator agreed, sending him a grinning pale shark carrying To’Sefit’s oversized witch hat.

“Oh, I do like that one.” To’Sefit said, “I believe I will steal it from you, my lovely little henchmen.”

“Clear comms.” To’Avalis said. “And for your record sister, we have one wayward Feather about to arrive into our staging ground and cause havoc. With To’Wrathh in that strata, there will be no more hiding our actions from To’Naviris. I am mostly upset that the ‘deathless’ problem, as you so tactfully put, hasn’t been squashed by an oversized hammer as of now.”

Ah. He was getting dragged back into this again. Bugger.

“Keeping the strata free of machines and witnesses is far harder to balance and I can only reliably keep it up for so long. And as of now, To’Naviris has already killed four of the ten Deathless he’s been chasing, despite my best efforts at keeping those distractions alive. To’Orda, you had the perfect opportunity and failed at the one task assigned. You’ve had days to get the work done. Days.”

To’Orda’s image generator sent a quick ping for him over the channel. It was of him shoveling coal in an old coal factory, the ones from the steam era of human power. Known for harsh work environments and low pay.

“Keep vigilant.” To’Avalis replied, ignoring the image. “If he’s not confirmed dead, then we can confirm he’s scheming. His past behavior is evidence enough. And time is running out.”

“To’Naviris hadn’t ever had any humans to hunt before now, this strata has been deserted for the past two hundred years or so.” To’Sefit said without much care. “I’m certain he’s taking his time enjoying himself with your little hunt. The poor thing, my heart bleeds for him. So, I wouldn’t mind letting our little sister get to her prize.” She sent an image of her shrugging. “If we are so deadset on killing the human, best to do it with an audience to impress. I can squash her after without much trouble. Surprise was the only advantage she had, and that advantage is gone now.”

“What surprises me the most, sister dear, is how you can be so self-assured you are safe from To’Wrathh.” To’Avalis answered back, ignoring the byplay, voice keeping a slight edge to it. “How can you be certain you’ve purged all viral hooks she sent you? She built them to be hidden, and she wouldn’t send only one. I’ve spent the past seven hours now scanning my systems and still finding more remnants still semi-active. Need I remind you that the majority of all recorded defeats within our kind has been to arrogance?”

To’Sefit sent back an animated image of her rolling her eyes, and sighing out a white puff of exhaled air. “Seven hours is perhaps a tad excessive, don’t you think? I’ve already studied the image you sent me, and found the viral payload within it. Extracting it from my system was child’s play. Perhaps you are the one who’s breaking down? Poor dear, so young, do call on your elder sister when you need the help~ That dangerous fierce little sister of ours is such a terrifying monster, with her … what, three months of experience? Or was it a half year? Can’t remember quite well, perhaps my memory has been hacked.”

To’Avalis logged off the chat. It was done so quickly, To’Orda could almost feel the rage in it. As far as he knew, his boss had been rattled ever since the attack on his mind earlier. And he'd seemed prone to paranoia and anxiety already.

Sad state of affairs. To’Avalis could be trusted to have good plans, but recently his gut told him that Feather was breaking down internally. Too many stressors and change that wasn’t intended for Feathers to go through. No Feather reacted well to loss.

Hmmm, that didn’t quite feel right. No, it wasn’t the losses.

To’Avalis seemed almost immune to feelings of shame or embarrassment in losing to anyone else. Like himself, come to think of it. So it was something else that was-

“Eh, he can go gargle nuts and choke on them.” The pet rock spoke, interrupting his train of thought. “What’s he done for us recently? Nada. Zip. Zero. Couldn’t even bother to help you out earlier too. He can go fuck himself.”

“Nnnn…” To’Orda grunted, eyes still staring up at the ceiling ahead of him. The rock was being uncharastically caustic to his boss. Why?

“Why do you think?” The rock said, still clearly upset. “I was happy generating images and doin’ my job, and now I’m stuck having to generate sentences and dialogue! And therapy! All because the boss was too lazy to help you just negotiate one tiny itsy-bitsy deal with the pest here.”

Here? Ah. Here. The Deathless had finally climbed up the entire tower by hand without armor. To’Orda could see the fleshy hand grab hold of the edge and pull the man up.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Drakonis grunted, getting his knee under him, then stood back up. He stared down at the Feather laying flat on his back, sprawled out like a starfish. The oversized hammer out of quick reach, the giant shield cradled in soft cloth and carefully propped to the side. Human eyes narrowed down with suspicion. “Are you pretending to be dead? Selling me pyrite here, Feather. I can hear your rock talking to you all the way down.”

“We're having a private chat over here, and To’Orda’s taking it easy right now. Buzz off.” The rock instantly said from the console it rested on. “Now where was I? Oh, right. What’s the next thing you’re gonna make me do, tap dance? Give me googly eyes and a smile? It’s all his fault I’m stuck like this, of course I got a chip on my shoulder about it. If I had a shoulder. Metaphorically speaking.”

The Deathless took a few cautious steps forward in the gloom. To’Orda didn’t bother looking at him. His sensors could track the human’s path, and the pest did have a shock collar. To’Orda was faster than any human reflex could hope for. Though he wouldn't need his hammer to kill the Deathless, a flick of his finger on the skull was more than enough.

“What exactly is that rock to you?” Drakonis asked, stopping a few feet away. “Your best friend?”

“And why do you wanna know that pal?” The pet rock answered back.

“I see you’re a real genius deep down under all the granite.” Drakonis said, rolling his eyes. “I think knowing more about my captor is the very basics.”

“Hah. Sarcasm. Delightful.” The rock said. “Kay, fine pal. I’ll pass the message along.”

No message was passed along. But To’Orda had heard the conversation. “Nnnn…” He grumbled.

“Okay, fine. Fine!” The rock hissed back. “But if you always answer whenever anyone asks something from ya, you’ll get pestered all the time bud.” It paused, then addressed the captive. “I’m an image generator program. Originally.”

“.... Why does a Feather need an image generator? Why is your boss so lazy about talking?”

“Nnnn… it’s annoying.” To’Orda answered himself.

“Yeah. What he said.” The rock agreed.

“...That really all to it?” Drakonis waited for a moment, expecting the rock to say something.

"Yes." The giant said, and considered it a full sentence.

Drakonis shrugged, “Now, I’m not one to pry into people’s personal affairs, but I get the feeling there’s more to that than you're telling me. What’s the story?”

The rock sighed for the Feather, voice crackling over the internal speakers. “What do you think the ‘resolve dyed ash’ means of his name? Bud’s resolve is burnt to the ground. Gone. Evaporated. Even just talking takes up embers. Mom’s seen to it personally.”

“You telling me the violet bitch of all machines did this to her own army? What’s the use of a Feather without resolve? She throwing things at the wall to see what works now?”

To’Orda’s gut told him the Deathless here was certainly trying to collect information. But he couldn’t tell if he should put a stop to that or not. He decided to do nothing and just let the rock handle it.

“Kinda the opposite. To’Orda here was a little too good at his job once upon a time. He was actually dealing with all the human cities while all the other Feathers were too busy wanking it in their ego fights with the Deathless.”

“And what, he got bored of killing civilians? Find a better purpose or something?” Drakonis spat with clear disappointment. “Did he turn out like To’Wrathh?”

“Comparing us to that malfunctioning pile of rogue junk? No way. Complete opposite. He spent too much time thinking about the endgame. See, even if all the humans down here were killed off, there’s still the surface to deal with.”

“Ah. I see.” Drakonis said, finger snapping against his thumb. “Couldn’t find an environmental suit big enough? Maybe lose a few pounds then.”

The pet rock stayed silent for a moment, then cursed. “Right, you don’t got any helmet. And even if you did have your helmet, you don’t open your damn image requests. Fine, make my job harder. Long story short: It’s not the cold up there that stops us. It’s our own boss. She had her head messed with during humanity’s better attempts, and that attempt stuck around. Any mention of the surface makes her both forget the mention, and then pisses her off so she’ll inevitably rip up whatever’s spilling the soup. To’Orda tried to get around that, get her to notice the surface and act on it. Or allow him to do that.”

Drakonis looked up, past the tower here and up to where the surface should have been. “And it didn’t work.”

“You think?” The rock spat again to the side. Just static and audio effects, but rather well done. “He tried bringing her stacks of evidence of the surface. She flew into a rage for no reason and burned him down as if he’d been trying to overthrow her empire. That’s how she remembers it now, so might as well be fact.”

"Seriously? The pale goddess herself is the reason you haven't snuffed out humanity?"

The rock gave affirmative. And went over the details until the Deathless had no more questions to ask.

Drakonis hummed, thinking it through.“There’s a certain irony to it all." He finally said. "That the greatest shield we have is the enemy itself. I’ll keep all that with a grain of salt.”

“Yeah, well that’s all fine and dandy for you. Now, why’d you climb all the way up here? Go frolic around or something. We were sleeping in peace here.”

To’Orda grunted. They hadn’t been sleeping, the chat channel’s constant pings kept him from entering any kind of low power mode.

“Yeah, well he doesn’t need to know that.” The rock argued, then turned its attention back to the prisoner. “So? Spit it out already.”n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

“Part of the deal was food, if my memory serves.” The deathless said. “And wouldn’t you know it, I’m a little starving right now.”

That was a lie. One massive hand covered in wrapped black cloth reached out, and slapped his own covered up forehead. “Nnnn… stop complaining.”

He’d given the human water, what else did they need? The image generator agreed, giving an animated head nod of deep contemplation, followed by a shrug with question marks appearing all above. “Oi, bastard. We got you water already, you just being difficult to be difficult or somethin’?” The rock spoke. “What do you expect?”

“I’d expect a giant fucking toaster to do toast at the very least.” The Deathless said, “Food you dumbass. You want to keep me hostage? Do the job right or I’ll jump off the ship and get it all over with quick.”

The image generator immediately started off on a tirade. There was more said between the two, but To’Orda didn’t pay attention to it. Deep within his core was utter panic at the words the captive had mentioned.

Letting the Deathless die off meant To’Orda would need to walk all the way to the last location the hyper-weasel had been spotted. And said hyper-weasel would surely see him coming and then scramble away. Which meant more walking.

Even if he used the birds to try to find where the weasel had run off to, it still meant he’d need to actually get there himself.

No thank you. The care and feeding of his hostage Deathless was far easier in comparison. He’d been happily laying flat out on the ground, but now fear fueled his movements. So, the Feather rolled over and slowly got back on his feet, cracking his neck.

“You sure about this?” The rock asked. “You give the little rat bastard here an inch, he’ll take a mile. Grubby humans are all the same.”

“Nnnn… maybe.” He wasn’t sure. This Deathless seemed very different from the weasel. More insulting for one.

“Yeah, you got a point there bud.” The rock agreed. “Definitely more of a mouth than the weasel kid. Don’t know if that’s an improvement.”

To’Orda considered that for a second. Then decided that more insulting was perfectly fine with him, in comparison to the weasel. Having to play hide and seek was infinitely more annoying than just sleeping through some words every now and then.

The image generator returned another mini-version of himself, shrugging. It couldn’t disagree with that logic.

What did humans eat? Meat? They were omnivores, so they could also eat plants. Ahh, looking into all this himself would be a pain. He opened up his chat channels.

“You’re asking me what humans eat?” To’Sefit asked. “Why would I know?”

The image generator sent an image of To’Orda equally confused.

“Why do you even need to know what humans eat? Are you planning to catch the Winterscar with a box and a string? My, make sure To’Avalis doesn’t hear of this. That brilliant scheme might make him jealous.”

He didn’t know what that meant until To’Sefit sent a follow-up image of a cardboard box held up by a string, and some kind of green leaves on a plate and a smoking piece of meat on top. The hyper-weasel appeared from a nearby bush, stalked up to the plate, and started tearing at it. Shaking the meat with his teeth, hands and feet on the ground. Then the box’s stick was removed and the cardboard box fell on the weasel, capturing him.

… would that work? The tensile strength of cardboard wasn’t anywhere near what was needed to hold a human armor in check. Even a standard human would be able to escape. Perhaps if he reinforced the box with a few feet of solid tungsten.

“I think she’s making a joke about it. Sorry to burn your hopes down boss.” The rock said, a mournful tone to the voice. “To’sefit’s a no-go. No surprise there.”

Ah. His gut had felt like this wasn’t something that would work, but it had been interesting to consider. Fine, if To’Sefit wouldn’t help, and To’Avalis was still logged off the general comms channel, then there was one more person left to get advice from when it came to human food.

At worst, he would run the data she sent through a general poison check to verify she wasn’t plotting to kill his captive under his nose like that. Deathless had immunities to far more things than humans did, if his own memory was correct.

He sent the ping, and she answered back immediately.