The Machine God

Chapter 285

Anyah stared at him. Then her gaze broke past him toward the stairs, toward the light pouring in from above, and something shifted in her expression.

“Help him.” Her voice cracked. “Please. He hasn’t woken up in days. I don’t know what’s wrong. We’ve done everything we could.”

The man moved. He grabbed Anyah’s good arm and pulled her down. Both of them hit the floor on their knees. The man bowed his head so low his forehead touched the stone.

“Forgive her, Exalted,” the man said. His voice was steady, like he’d said similar words before to people who would punish him for not saying them. “She means no disrespect. We are grateful you’ve come. Please. If it is your will, help us.”

Anyah resisted for a second. Then her body gave up the fight and she folded beside him, head bowed, her broken arm cradled against her chest.

Alexander looked at the two of them kneeling on the basement floor of a collapsed building, begging a stranger for help they shouldn’t have needed to beg for. Worse, the stranger responsible for their suffering.

“Get up.” He kept his voice level. “Both of you. And please don’t ever do that again.”

The man was on his feet before the last word left Alexander’s mouth. Spine straight. Hands at his sides. Eyes forward. He’d heard an order and his body had obeyed before his brain caught up.

Anyah was slower, the man helping her rise with his hand under her good elbow.

Above them, a beam groaned. Dust sifted down from the ceiling. One of the support timbers bowed visibly, the wood splitting along a stress line that hadn’t been there a minute ago. His excavation had redistributed the load, and whatever equilibrium had kept the basement intact for ten days was failing.

Alexander flicked a hand. Two of the alloy plates slid down the stairway, scraping against the walls as they came, followed by a stream of small metal pieces. One plate slammed flat against the beam where the timber was bowing.

“Get upstairs. Now. Before the rest of it comes down.”

Anyah turned toward the side room. “But Ruyah—”

“I’ll bring him.”

Alexander was already moving past her. He stepped through the narrow doorway into the side room. Ruyah lay on the cot, chest rising and falling in that same shallow rhythm. His skin was pale under the grime. The bandages around his head had been changed at least once, judging by the cleaner wrapping underneath the stained outer layer.

Alexander extended his cybernetic hand. The second alloy plate floated through the doorway, rotating to slide beneath the cot from one end to the other. The small metal pieces followed, tracing the boy’s form, gently pressing against him and holding him in place.

The cot rose smoothly off the floor, the boy’s head never shifting on the makeshift pillow beneath it.

Behind him, Anyah made a sound. Then the man’s voice, low and urgent, and the shuffle of two people climbing stairs.

Alexander maneuvered the floating cot through the doorway, tilting it just enough to clear the frame, and followed them up, doing his best to ignore the smell. Droney came up behind him.

Daylight hit them at the top of the stairs. Anyah and the man stood a few paces from the entrance, both shielding their eyes with raised hands, squinting against a sun they hadn’t seen in over a week.

Then their hands came down. And they saw the city.

Alexander guided Ruyah’s cot past them and set it gently on a flat section of foundation. Droney drifted over and flashed an image across the bond. A snapshot from the estate fight. The perimeter. A young man with a square jaw standing guard, wand in his hand, wearing the same uniform as every other conscript Alexander had disarmed that night.

The same man now standing in the ruins of Harborhill with his arm around Anyah, staring at the leveled streets with an expression that didn’t have a word attached to it.

That explained his behavior. The guard had likened him to someone like He Who Whispers.

Alexander looked away and let them take it in. He turned and examined Ruyah, but besides the obvious headwound, there was nothing to indicate what was wrong. The bioelectrical activity was low, but that provided no magical medical insight.

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Talia would have known what to do.

The M.G.S. needed a medical drone. Something he hadn’t even considered, but was definitely going to be included as a priority when they got back.

Droney beeped. Worry.

The little drone understood the same thing he did. Ruyah wouldn’t survive without healing. But he didn’t think that the clans would have powerful enough magic to do what was needed, and the only other option he could think of was the jade pod back at the fortress. The Restorium.

Even if he did fight his way inside, through who knew what defenses the Empire had added since the last time he checked on the place, there was no way to know how long he’d have to stand guard over the kid.

Stealing the pod might be an option, but he had no way of knowing if removing it would break the magic that powered it. And again, the clans probably did not have the knowhow to fix it if he did.

Anyah stepped up beside him. “Please, Xander.” She held out a hand toward him, then stopped, and lowered it. “Please help him. He’s all—” She swallowed. “He’s all I have left.”

Behind her, the man stood close, protective, torn between wanting to pull her back and letting her plead her case.

Alexander didn’t turn. “My name is Alexander. I’m sorry for lying, Anyah. I’m sorry for a lot of things.” He paused. “But my powers… they can’t heal.”

A sob tore free of Anyah’s throat. She fell to her knees beside the cot.

The man kneeled beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He glanced up fearfully, but made eye contact anyway.

“Please, Exalted. There must be something you can do?”

Alexander stared down at them. He wanted to help. He would have given almost anything in that moment to help. But none of his powers were suited to—

His eyes widened.

He glanced at Ruyah. It was a long shot, and it wouldn’t be fast. But the kid had survived ten days already, and he was bound to him by a golden thread. That might be enough.

Alexander turned back to the man. “What’s your name?”

The man swallowed. “Revek, sir.”

Alexander nodded and stepped closer to where Ruyah lay on the cot. “We have a saying where I come from. ‘I’d give an arm and a leg.’” He pulled his sleeve back up his cybernetic arm. “This might not work, and even if it does it’s going to take time. But Ruyah’s a tough kid. I think he can make it.”

Anyah looked up, eyes wide with hope. “What are you going to do?”

Alexander grinned. “Give up a bit of my arm.” Then he reached down and pressed a hand gently against the bandaged wound.

He cycled all of his powers into the cybernetic, Willing the nanites to flow. He didn’t have much left, the vast majority having already bonded, either to the arm or to repair various wounds he’d collected since.

But he had to hold some back. Just enough to replicate once he figured out how to conjure the necessary metal alloy composition that they were made of. Assuming they even could. Maybe he’d have to track down the old lady merchant he’d scammed and find out where he could get more.

And if more couldn’t be made or found, at least they were being spent on a good cause.

Already he could feel them flowing from inside both the cybernetic arm and his body. They responded to his Will, even as Technopathy couldn’t quite reach them with lucid commands. Metallokinesis gently nudged them along, accelerating them far beyond their natural speeds.

Alexander closed his eyes and waited.

Anyah and Revek were still beside him, still on the ground. He could feel the golden threads from both of them pulsing, even without using his Will to look at them.

He exhaled.

The others felt different emotions. Trust had been the word that best described what he felt pulsing along the warm golden threads. Even now. Especially now. Because it weighed on him more than it ever had, that he owed these people anything he could give.

But there was more to it. He wanted to deny it, but he couldn’t ignore the truth. He’d never been able to ignore the facts once he saw them.

Alexander had always seen too much for his own happiness. And now was no different. He understood now why Bardot had called them worship threads.

Because along with the trust, unearned as it was, he felt hope.

Alexander felt the nanite flow trickle, then come to a stop. By his estimate, he’d retained less than a ball bearing’s worth. The rest were now moving about in Ruyah’s bloodstream, though most remained just beneath the skin where the entry wound was.

Probably a skull fracture.

They’d figure it out. They always had when he needed them to, even if they were faster when directed with his Will.

He withdrew his hand. “That’s the best I can do. All we can do now is wait.”

“What—” Revek cleared his throat. “What did you do, sir?”

Alexander glanced at them. Explaining machines to wizards would be one thing, but explaining nano-sized ones capable of stitching molecules back together was not happening anytime soon.

He smiled and wiggled his fingers. “I gave Ruyah some of my magical arm metal. It should heal his injuries.”

Anyah’s eyes widened. “Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Alexander shook his head. His smile faded. “It’s the least I could do.” He gestured at the destruction around them. “My presence here caused all of this. I thought I was doing the right thing, but…”

He trailed off with a sigh. “It doesn’t matter now. Do you have somewhere to go?”

Anyah and Revek shared a look.

“No, sir,” Revek said. “I have some family, but they wouldn’t take us in. They disowned me when I…”

Alexander nodded. “I’ll take you to some friends of mine. You’ll be safe there, and they might even be able to speed up Ruyah’s healing.”

He flicked his fingers and began retrieving all his metal bits and pieces, sending them into the ring with a thought. Then he withdrew one of the alloy floor plates, crumbled into a highly compressed ball, and started unfolding it.

Anyah flinched as the metal screeched.

A minute later, Alexander lifted into the air, Droney tucked under his arm, carrying Anyah, Revek, and Ruyah in a metal origami raft.