Page 89 of Heart of Iron
“If I wanted you dead, you would be.That was never my intention.”Rosalind gestured to the side.“Would you like some tea?You’ve gone white as a ghost.”
“I don’t want any of your damned tea, thank you very much.And considering recent events I’m not sure I believe you.”
“Mendici?That was nothing.”
“I’m talking about the humanist who held a damned knife to my throat the other day and threatened my brother!”she snapped.
Rosalind stilled.“I know nothing of this.”
Lena licked her lips, uncertain whether to believe her or not.“You want me to break the treaty.”
“You told Mr.Mandeville no, that you wanted to meet with us first.”
“Then someone wasn’t listening,” Lena replied.“I was delivering Mandeville’s message to my contact in the Echelon.”She tipped her chin up.“Someone accosted me and held a knife to my throat.They said I had to destroy the treaty or they’d hurt my brother.They had one of his toys, from his room.A place nobody should be able to get to.And,” she whispered, “they were a blue blood.”
The color washed out of Rosalind’s face.“You’re sure?They didn’t follow you there—”
“They knew the humanist codes,” Lena replied.“Knew things only someone close to the Council could know.About Will’s involvement in the treaty.And where I would be delivering the letter to.It had to be my contact.”
“That had nothing to do with us,” Rosalind said.
“I thought you were in charge?”
A long, drawn-out moment.“Not everything around here is what it seems,” Rosalind murmured.“What if I told you the draining factories were not our doing?That I knew nothing of this threat against you?”
Lena stared her in the eye, forcing herself to be strong.Have courage.Like Will would.No, don’t think of that.She balled her fists.Choked the pain down.She could fall apart later.“What if I told you I didn’t believe you?”
Rosalind grimaced and leaned back in her chair.“What I’m about to tell you must never leave this room.”At Lena’s nod she continued.“As I’m certain you’ve realized, there are two factions amongst the humanists.Those that fight for freedom and those that fight for revenge.It wasn’t always so, but a year ago we made a daring attack on one of the enclaves and freed a group of mechs.We needed their skills in working metal.Unfortunately, they’ve not been as cooperative as we’d hoped for.There’s a splinter group within the faction, taking matters into their own hands and using our name and information to wreak havoc.”
“Why not cut your ties with them?”
Another long look as if wondering whether to trust her.“Come,” Rosalind finally said, pushing to her feet.“I have something to show you.”
There was no point resisting.And she was starting to grow curious now.“Where are we going?”
“To the cellars.”
Pushing into the dark corridor, Rosalind grabbed a lantern from the wall and led her along the tunnel until they finally came to a small door.The smell of chemical lingered in the air.Hanging the lantern from a nail in the wall, Rosalind tugged a key from her shirt and opened the door ahead of them.
Dark shadows waited silently, the faint gleam of lantern light shining off cold steel.Rosalind lifted the lantern and stepped through, spilling light into the enormous cavern and chasing away the shadows.Dozens of enormous automatons sat still and silent, the spark of gaslight absent from their eyes.Dozens more of the metal suits that Rollins had been strapped into.Rows of Percys.
“These are the Cyclops.”Pride warmed the other woman’s voice and she handed the lantern to Lena.Stepping forward, she ran a hand over the hydraulic hose of the heavy steel arm.The hollow tube of the flamethrower on its arm gleamed.
Leaning under the arm, Rosalind hit a button.With a hiss, the chest cavity opened and the head slid back revealing a hollow space wide enough to fit a man.Rosalind stepped up on the Cyclops’s bent knee and hopped into the cavity.Turning around, she eased back and slid a leather harness around her chest and waist.Two handles rested at arm height.She gripped them, pressing a number of levers and twisting a dial.The steel carapace of the chest slid back into place, a thrumming sound coming from deep within.
“Takes a few minutes to heat the boiler packs,” Rosalind explained, her small, heart-shaped face peering over the top of the chest piece.With an expression of concentration, she toyed with something inside and then the hydraulic hoses hissed, the Cyclops straightening to its full height of ten feet.“They’re fully mobile, with more flexibility and control than a metaljacket and run on a liter of water a day.”With a sudden smile, she forced the arm to lift.“We modeled the flamethrowers on the Spitfires.Burns like buggery when you hit something with it.”The fingers on the end of the iron arm gave a wiggle, revealing complete dexterity.“Mech work,” Rosalind explained.“The whole thing is mech work.”
“That’s why you need them.”
Rosalind grimaced and the Cyclops sank back down, its engines fading.She slung the steel chest plate open and hopped down.“Aye.The plans were ours.”A brief look in her direction.“But the work’s theirs.”A rusty laugh.“The Echelon forced them into the enclaves to work steel for them and earn out the repayment of their mech enhancements.Not once did they suspect we’d turn their own technology—the skills they taught the mechs—against them.It’s the one thing we humans have never been able to counter.We might have been able to overwhelm the blue bloods in France and put them to the guillotine, but our blue bloods are smarter and hide behind automaton armies.Human flesh can’t fight metal.So we must even the odds.”
“To fight for freedom,” Lena said, with a slightly sarcastic lilt.“It sounds remarkably like fighting for revenge.”
“Do you think the Echelon are simply going to turn around and give us our rights?”A hint of anger stirred Rosalind’s voice.“Perhaps if we ask nicely?”
“People are going to die.”
“They already do.Four hundred and thirty men and women took to the streets to protest against the latest hike in the blood taxes.The Echelon mowed them down with the Trojan cavalry, leaving barely a hundred alive.”
