The godling - who could say what he was doing?

His neck was craned forward until his chin touched his chest. And he was talking to his armor, like it was a newfound species of xeno that maybe might speak his language.

“Hello, can you hear me?” Poire said. Then, spoke to Agraneia and Eolh, “Still not working!” And then back to his armor, “If you can hear me, do something. Do anything.”

Agraneia was sitting cross-legged on the flat, polished metal of the gate, sharpening her knives. To her left, the corvani was preening his feathers with a long, pointed comb. A huge wall of white mist, roaring silently and rose up to the sky in the background.

And when the corvani finished preening, he found another reason to fidget. He dug through his clothes. He tugged at threads on his leathers. He rolled the comb between the metal fingers of his false hand, lazily spinning it back and forth across his knuckles.

“You are uneasy,” Agra said.

“Course I am.”

“Why?”

“Do you know where that thing goes?”

“I have been on many planets. The old ones placed the gates well.”

“Easy to say when you have an army at your back. But we’re alone now, Agraneia. It’s just you, me, and the fledge. And look at him-”

Poire was thump-thumping his hand on his chest. Trying to make the liquid metal react. “Wake up!” Thump-thump. “Activate!” Thump-thump. “Start!” Thump-thump.

“-how much help is he going to be? How would you say it… he’s not the most powerful god I’ve ever heard of. You?”

“Mmm,” Agraneia agreed.

“I don’t know.” Eolh stood up, and paced a slow circle on the gate, stretching his legs straight with every step. “Maybe I’m being pessimistic again. You said so yourself. The gates were placed well. How bad could it be?”

“Bad.” Agraneia shrugged. “Anything can be bad.”

“Real helpful. Got any actual tips?”

“Relax.”

Eolh crowed a sigh, and shook his head. “Relax. Good, great. Thanks for that one. Would’ve never thought of it.”

Across the gate, Poire was shouting: “Admin controls! Admin login! Start, dammit! Override!”

“You know what? Maybe I’m due for some good luck. We were hunted on Gaia. Got kidnapped on Cyre. Got thrown in prison and beat half to death on Thrass. Maybe I’m due for some good planet luck. Maybe I should pray for it. Is there a god of planets in cyran culture?”

“A god of travel. Yam Lha, who separated the land from the seas.”

“Right. Yam Lha!” Eolh lifted his voice, “If you can hear me, send us to a good planet. Okay?”

Silence, except for halfway across the gate, where Poire was shouting at his chest.

“Do you think it worked?” Eolh asked. “Do you think this Yam Lha heard it?”

Agraneia shrugged.

Poire screamed.

There was a tendril of metal, as thick as an arm, stretching out of his chest. The tendril bent back, and slammed against his face, covering his mouth and muting his scream.

Eolh and Agraneia jumped to their feet, their hands already on their weapons. As if they could do anything to that shapeless, transforming metal. But they needn’t interfere.

Poire smacked the tendril off his face, and ripped at the metal on his chest with both hands. But the metal only melted and dripped through his fingers, morphing back into his chest.

“Well!” Poire said, exasperated, “You weren’t answering me! What was I supposed to do? All I’m asking is that next time I call for you, you respond. What do you mean you were responding? Oh.” All the outrage evaporated from his voice.

“My implant.” Poire looked down at his wrist. “I’m sorry, okay? I don’t have one attached to my stem. My cohort wasn’t allowed brain implants. I don’t know why, don’t ask me.”

Eolh relaxed. Agraneia, however, could not believe her ears.

“Does he really think that thing is alive?”

“You don’t?” Eolh croaked a laugh. “I told you, he’s human.”

“Hmm.” Agraneia said.

“Mmm,” Eolh agreed.

They watched as Poire talked to himself.

“My name is Poire. Well, what did Marsim call you? Oh, that makes sense. Me? They named us after plants. Olivia, Impande, Sakura. Things like that. Old languages, before we all went to one. But when you grow up, and start your first life, you get to choose a new name. You’re old enough. You can choose yours. What do you mean you don’t want another name?”

And so on.

At one point, Poire insisted on “introducing” his armor to Agraneia and Eolh. He approached them slowly, talking to his arm the whole time. And when he was close enough, the glossy metal defied every law of nature by peeling away from his shoulder, and formed into a third arm that reached out to touch Agraneia.

“Hold out your hand,” Poire said. And she obeyed, because of how he said it. Not a command, not some deity sending down a mandate from on high, but a simple, humble desire to share.

The metal pooled into her palm. A cold shock of ice. But after the shock, it was smooth and gentle. It rippled like quicksilver in her hand.

She squeezed her fist shut. Before her fingers could close, the metal formed into a hard, geometric orb, patterned with millions of perfect lines and cracks and sharp edges. Not pricking her skin, but refusing to let her close her fist, either.

She smiled.

“Do you get it yet?” Eolh said, as she relaxed her grip and the metal swirled and danced in her palm. An impossibly thin strand of metal still connected the liquid to Poire’s body, as if that one thread could hold the weight of all this metal. “Do you understand the power he has?”

“No,” She said.

“Exactly,” Eolh nodded enthusiastically. “None of us do. Not even him. Is he weak? Is he more than we think he is?”

“Eolh, I can hear you,” Poire said. “I’m right in front of you.”

“You told me yourself, Fledge, you don’t know. There’s so much out there. We don’t know where we’re going, or what it will be like. We have no idea what to expect on this Sen’s World, and we have no way to prepare.”

“You think we shouldn’t go?”

“The opposite. This time, I think we should do it your way, Poire. Jump in. Headfirst. And just go. The Emperor knows you’re here. Khadam will find out soon enough, I’m sure of it. The sooner we start moving, the better.”

“Hmm.” Agraneia said.

“See? Even she agrees. The Emperor said it would be safe. And what did his message say? Good air, good weather?”

“We can’t trust him.”

“Of course not,” Eolh said. “But if the Emperor wanted to kill you, he could’ve done it a long time ago. He needs you, Poire. He needs something from you. Which means, he probably wants you alive.”

“Probably,” Poire said. “Is a thin ledge to walk out on.”

The moons of Thrass were chasing the sun higher and higher into the sky. Burning through the thin veil of mist over their heads. But Poire still looked hesitant.

“Each second you waste, your enemy gains,” Agraneia said.

“Okay.” Poire said. “Okay. Let’s go, then. Go stand over there.”

He stood with them, and spoke into the air, “Open the extractors.”

This time, it was a command.

And high above, Agraneia caught movement. Something changed on the face of the moons. A white light, shining down on them. And then, the whole grid was alight with brilliant whiteness. All the mists, too bright to look at. All the panels, drinking in that glowing power.

Eolh was inhaling slowly. Trying to calm himself.

The arms of the gate were moving now. Faster, in perfect, gravity-defying circles around the perimeter. The low whooping turned to singing, turned to a piercing keen. Became a sound beyond sound.

Light beyond light.

The breath was ripped from Agraneia’s lungs-

***

TRANSMISSION.

“Sovereign, there is true Light again. This time we are sure. It is a Human gate.”

The Watcher had seen it.

But the question was, what had opened this gate? There was a gate in the Light residue, those clouds of mist that covered hundreds of miles of this swamp-infested planet.

The Sovereign had already changed the Code once this cycle. But It could do so again. Human activity, whether actual or incidental, required rapid iteration. And now that there was clear evidence that some human infrastructure had been brought back to life, it was time to iterate rapidly.

Could it be a human?

Would the Record soon grow?

Or was it merely another set of sentient half-breeds, discovering how to use the old technology for the first time?

Either way, the Sovereign would move in. It could not allow this activity to continue.

But it still needed time. Its’ carriers were not building fast enough. The Sovereign had no base of operations. Had no other resources in the sector.

“We need a foothold.”

“This planet,” the Watcher said, “Is riddled with sentient life.”

“It is time,” the Sovereign decided, “To awaken a biologist from the crop.”

***

-the breath was thrust back into her like a concrete fist. She gasped, and stumbled and fell to her knees. Eolh was sprawled on the ground next to her, his feathers splayed flat against the gate.

The human, however, was standing, unaffected.

Agraneia’s head was hammering, and a trickle ran down her nose. She pushed herself up and looked around. A bleak, gray sea of grass surrounded them. Nothing but long swaying stalks for miles in every direction. Wind rippled waves through the tall grass, gently rolling down back across the endless flatness. In the far distance where a range of white-capped mountains rose like dull teeth. A white star hung high overhead, shedding its dim light over the landscape.

Agraneia wiped the blood from her nose. It had frozen to her face.

The chill crept into her scales. Dug its icy fingers into her flesh. Already, the humidity from Thrass was turning to ice on her clothes, and her own sweat began to freeze. Her teeth started to chatter.

She reached down to help Eolh stand up, and they huddled together.

“Gods,” he said. “Gods, I thought it was supposed to be livable.”

Poire looked back at both of them. His armor was sliding over his arms and his legs, wrapping up the back of his skull. Covering him from the cold.

“There is life. Look.” Agraneia nodded at the horizon. A flock of black specks were gathering and swirling in the distance. Aimlessly dancing high across the plains.

“If there is no other sun, we will need shelter. It will get colder soon.” Agra rubbed her hands over the bare scales of her arms. For once, she was the least prepared here. She had given Kirine her cloak to quell his fever, and her pack was filled with ammo, rations and medical supplies, not clothing.

“Don’t see any trees. But there’s plenty of kindling for a fire,” Eolh said. “Unless you have some way to help us stay warm, Fledge?”

But Poire wasn’t listening to them. He was staring at the flock. They had balled up into a cloud of specks, and it looked like they were coming closer.

“Those are machines,” He said. There was danger in his voice. “Hundreds of them.”

And that was it. Only a few moments on this new world, on this new journey, and already they had been found by something. Agraneia did not wait. She grabbed her gear.

“Run,” she said.

“Where?” Eolh asked.

“The grass.”

“It won’t help,” Poire said. “They saw us. They can see our heat. They can see everything.”

How could he know that? Agraneia squinted up at the flock. Black specks, growing larger by the second.

“We can’t outrun them,” Poire said. “Look how fast they move.”

“There’s only three of us,” Eolh said. “Not really a fair fight, is that?”

“Eolh,” Agra said. “Take him. Fly. I will draw their attention.”

“With what? A flintlock and a knife? You heard him, there’s hundreds-”

But there was no more time to argue. The flock was descending, the specks resolving into long, gleaming shapes. At first, she thought they were birds. But they had no wings. Their bodies seemed to writhe in the air, a bobbing motion that carried them forward at a sharp tilt. Reticulated tails spiraled behind them, and all the metal bones of their exoskeletons rattled and shook as they rocketed towards the gate.

Agraneia tensed. Shoved away the panic. There would be a moment of impact. And then, she would know if she could do anything. But right now, all she could do was distract them.

“Take him!” she shouted.

The earth exploded in a long line in front of them. The plains seemed to split open for half a mile, vomiting up dirt and chunks of grass.

Machinery churned out of the dirt. Turrets. Twelve of them, each one mounted with armfuls of cannons. She had never seen anything like it. Each cannon could have fit a cyran body, but the turrets held them as if they weighed nothing at all.

That cranking, rattling flight of the flying constructs was drowned out by a new sound. A low-pitched whine, as all the turrets turned in unison. They faced the flock of constructs, and loosed a volley of black shells that grayed out the cloudless sky. One rapid burst. Silence. Another rapid burst. Again and again.

The flock split into eight, smaller flocks, each one moving in a new, unpredictable pattern. Some seemed to bounce and jolt and disappear into the tall grass. Others arced and then dodged high overhead.

But there were too many shells. Agra watched as clumps of the spiraling machines dropped from the sky, or smashed into each other. But the bulk of them were still screaming past the line of turrets. Circling around and finding a new approach towards the gate.

The turrets swivelled, but their movement was painfully slow. Still, they kept plugging away, shooting with reckless abandon and turning the sky into rippling movement with their shells.

One of the flocks reappeared from the grass. It dove straight into a turret, and before the turret could even turn to meet them, they impacted. An explosion - not of fire, but of azure energy - sent a shockwave rolling out across the plains. Agra saw it, before she felt it knock into her chest, and send her to her knees. The vibrations made her muscles feel like jelly.

She stood up again, flexing away the weakness. She hauled Poire up. Soft spikes of liquid armor reached out and pressed against her scales. She pushed him towards Eolh. “Run, now!”

The flocks were dwindling, but more impacts led to more explosions. One by one, the turrets were destroyed. There were less than half the turrets left, and the flocks were moving too quickly to count.

Three flying constructs split off, and ripped through the air towards the gate.

“No!” Poire shouted. He pulled himself out of Eolh’s grip, and threw himself in front of the corvani - and in front of Agra. He spread his arms wide, and shouted again. “No!”

The armor changed. It flung itself out in a long, chromatic cape. Metal reflected all the blue and grey of this world in a blurry mirror. The cape kept unfurling, as if unravelled carried by a great wind. It spanned the length of the gate. Shielding Agraneia and Eolh both from the constructs flying straight at them.

The constructs pulled out of their dive, and changed course in a single movement. All three, acting in perfect, fluid unison. They swirled around the edges of the gate, reassessing their group. Or, maybe, dazzled by the blinding strangeness of Poire’s armor, still suspended and rippling in a towering veil of metal.

Another explosion of earth. And another. Lines of turrets, radiating out from the gate, appeared all around them. These were so covered with rust, Agraneia didn’t think they would be able to fire. Until they did.

The sky seemed to ripple all at once. The sound was deafening. And in a single burst, the last of the flying constructs were obliterated.

Agraneia saw one, glaring at her. Then, a shell impacted, and ripped the machine into smithereens.

Poire’s cape came fluttering down. It never touched the ground, instead, it seemed like gravity just so happened to push it back against him, until the metal melted together. And once more, he looked small and thin and almost frail.

Another low whine came from all around the gate, as all the remaining turrets, now numbering in the dozens, turned to face their group. Some of the turrets had failed to emerge from the ground, but there were more than enough cannons pointed at Agraneia for her to know, with utter certainty, that they were all about to die.

A low, deep, multi-layered voice ushered up from the gate. Agraneia jumped as the whole metal disc vibrated with each word: “Unidentified guest, you are not permitted to enter this planet. Please remain where you are, and you will not be harmed.”

“I’m here for Sen!” Poire asked. “Is she here?”

“Unidentified guest, you are not permitted-” the voice repeated.

“For how long?”

“Would you like to send a request to Her Endlessness, the High Lady of the Planet?”

“Yes!”

“ERROR,” the voice announced in a booming echo that seemed to roll with the wind over the plains. “REQUEST NOT SENT.”

“Then why did you ask?!” Poire shouted back.

“Unidentified guest-”

Poire looked back at them, helpless.

Agraneia could only stand and watch and shiver. The breath was coming out of her in a ghostly white. Eolh was right against her, but she couldn’t feel anything in her scales now. If the turrets didn’t kill them, the cold certainly would soon enough.

“What did you do back in the Cauldron?” Eolh said, his voice vibrating from his own chills.

“Override!” Poire shouted at the turrets, as confidently as he could.

“Unidentified guest, you are not permitted to enter this planet. Please remain where you are, and you will not be harmed.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Eolh said. “Look.”

Poire and Agra followed his feathered finger out to the horizon. Far away, there was a shape there that Agra had, at first, mistaken for a mountain because it was so huge. But this mountain was moving. Floating slowly through the air. A vast, almost sinewy shape, standing proud and ominously against the horizon. Like some flying monolith… or statue.

And all around it, there were thousands of tiny, black specks. Spiraling and bobbing in great, black clouds, as the vast monolith hoved closer.

Beneath hit, row after row of turrets erupted from underneath the dirt. Spewing hills of mud, as the cannons emerged and began to fire upon the monolith.

The monolith seemed not to notice them at all. More and more black specks were pouring out of the bottom of the monolith, and they descended upon the rows of turrets. Agraneia could see sparking bursts of blue as the flying constructs exploded into the turrets, shredding the metal and scattering chunks of earth across the plains.

Poire took a step back, and the gate announced once more: “REMAIN WHERE YOU ARE.”

“What the hells do we do now?”