The Superb, Unbelievable Machine Part 2

The two ambassadors and their message sat silent on the sleek transport, barely giving a whir as it floated across each red dune. Rimney leaned against the box at the front, looking out to the distance he thought was north as the black speck of Gohrual got closer. Lithlo was sitting on the platform’s right edge, out of Rimney’s sight. He scoffed as he looked at a warning stamped on the box’s side.

“Warning: Fragile. Handle with care.” He read aloud. “You’re full of rubbish, Rimney.”

“I kindly disagree.”

“Oh, do you? I suppose you just forgot about its delicate nature while you were busy?”

“It’s delicate in a different sense, my assistant.”

“Stop calling me that. If we’re even still alive after whatever it is you pull, you won’t be having any assistant much longer.”

“Your right, I won’t.”

The two didn’t say much after that. Rimney hummed a faint tune and Lithlo had only a brooding look while staring at the sea of sand. Rimney kept his eyes on the dot of civilization with a critical eye, as if expecting something from it. As the minutes passed, the humming of the transport took on more of a wheeze.

“Why’d you shoot him?” Lithlo suddenly called out to Rimney.

Rimney didn’t answer and let Lithlo draw up his own conclusions.

“This mission wasn’t authorized, was it?”

“Not by the navy, no. But it’s more of an experiment, anyway, and I’m a scientist. So it was authorized by me.”

“You shot him, though.”

“It’s an important experiment.”

Lithlo went silent for a moment. “You said we were here to end it. It. You mean the war, right? I don’t know what in the world you might be thinking. Fighting is laughable, don’t even know why I’d consider mentioning it. But you know the phrase “peace talks” or “truce” aren’t exactly common or popular in Philixine vocabulary. Why would I even mention that either, you’re hardly one to handle such things.”

“Which is why we’re doing neither.”

The city of Gohrual now stood more firmly in the distance after an hour of their travelling. The dusty transport now strained and groaned under its excessive weight and lack of power, barely teetering forward at that point.

“Whatever the hell you had planned, save it.” Lithlo said slyly. “If we’re lucky we have a minute before this transport dies, and then halting war will be the least of your worries.”

“Not to worry, you won’t have to wait that long.” Rimney said. With a touch of the vehicles slim control panel the humming ceased as the platform slid seamlessly between the sand dunes. Gohrual was still many miles away. Lithlo jumped off his seat and threw up his hands.

“I’m done trying to understand you.” he said.

It was just then that a new sound was picked up by the wind. At first it was just a rumble, but soon enough an image joined it and concentrated the sound. Grey, moving dots sprinkled the distance outside the city and enlarged with each passing second, the noise a rumbling stampede.

“Oh my god.” Lithlo didn’t waste anymore breathe on Rimney, and turned to run the other way.

“Stop.” Rimney said. Lithlo did surprisingly, but he turned around with an outraged face and his gun drawn.

“Stop? Stop? You’re mad, absolutely mental, I see it now. You know what’s coming, you know what they do!” He leveled the sleek revolver at Rimney’s face.

There was no time to shoot however, even if he was going to. The Philixine cavalry was close enough that they turned to face it, whatever they might’ve been previously holding now covered by the sand. The rows of riders thundered towards them, and a tall figure led them, covered in slimmer plates of armour. Black laser pikes bobbed in the air and soon around the two Vicilians as they circled them again and again, until Lithlo and Rimney were surrounded by at least five layers of what now appeared to be robots. They were slim and well-machined androids, with wires like sinew melding their limbs and torsos under slim, curved armour. A blinking red node stuck out of each one’s blank silver head, and each rode a mechanical bull-like thing of a similar appearance.

The only one not to be alike in this appearance was directly in front of the two Vicilians, a woman in more traditional philixine armour, though atop a just as lifeless mount. Rimney noticed the crest that lined her chestplate, the symbol of one of the warrior-children of Aham.

Lithlo began to stutter and was about to say something, something which would have undoubtedly put Rimney’s plans in the grave, so he interrupted his assistant’s mutters.

“Your highness,” Rimney said with a deep bow. “Forgive us for this unexpected and odd intrusion of your land. We are but humble messengers from the Vicilian Federal Conglomerate, here with a brief but important message for your king.”

The princess sat still on her robotic stallion in silence for a moment, not even shifting in her seat. Despite his confidence, Rimney couldn’t tell what expression lay underneath her visored helmet.

“An unescorted cargo ship rockets through the atmosphere, narrowly dodging our batteries.” She said in an iron voice. “Only to land in the midst of Tauzil, 20 leagues from Gohrual. And on a transport meant for a shipping hangar you make an impossible journey to our capital, the two of you, and are official envoys from the Conglomerate.” Her voice changed, either sounding more sarcastic, confused or skeptical. It was hard to tell. “Unannounced, without formality and hauling a giant cargo container.”

“The arrival of ourselves and our message is most unorthodox and far from ideal, your highness. Forgive me again, for we haven’t properly introduced ourselves. I am Rimney, chief scientist of Gylos, and this is Lithlo, my assistant. And you are a daughter of King Aham, I presume?”

“Zoiria.”

“An honour, my lady.” Rimney said in a sarcastically humbled voice. “Our message and physical tidings are of no danger to you lord, and they shall only be a brief interruption, for we know he is a busy man. I heard just the other day he has been quite occupied in slaughtering my relatives on 0-Q36.” Hidden by his bow, he gave a wry smile.

“Get up.” Zoiria hissed. She turned around on her steed and on one of her gauntlets, made of sleek steel and panels, she made a few succinct swipes. Immediately the circle around Rimney and Lithlo condensed and the machine-men readied their pikes. Lithlo squeaked, but Rimney talked to the princess in an even calmer and cooler voice than before. “Kill us now if you want.” he said. “But then you might find our message presented in a much different way.”

Zoiria turned around and the soldier’s rifles wavered. “How so?”

“You thought we were here for peace-talking, didn’t you?”

The desert was silent for a moment. Lithlo looked at Rimney. Rimney looked at Zoiria. Zoiria looked at Rimney, but then she turned to one of her robotic lieutenants.

“Escort them back to Gohrual.” She ordered, though it was more a snarl. She and a few others began to trot ahead, while the others guarded the sides of the transport. Lithlo, for once in a long time, gained the courage to speak again.

“W-we might need a recharge for our transport, my lady.”

She didn’t turn around. “It’s your message. Push it.”