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“Silence and Sword” by Royce Day (part 2 of 2)
14th November 2022 • The Voice of Dog • Rob MacWolf and guests
00:00:00 00:41:44

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In the post-apocalyptic city of Ambara Down, Joe Wildmon is just your average leopard electronics tech, until he finds himself helping the wazagan Hamia and their adopted fox daughter Ali, on a quest to free her from the plotting of the insane AI, Pax Machina.

Today’s story is the second and final part of “Silence and Sword” by Royce Day, which was originally published in the shared world anthology The Reclamation Project: Year One, edited by John Robey, and available through Furplanet. When he's not defeating the plots of insane artificial intelligences, Royce is complicating the romantic lives of the Darktail family in his long running Red Vixen Adventures series, available through Amazon.com, and has had short stories published by Armoured Fox Press, and Thurston Howl Publications

Previously, Joe, a leopard electronics tech living in the post-apocalypse city of Ambara Down, was hired buy Hamia, a wazagan mercenary, and his adopted fox daughter Ali, to help remove a collar that prevents her from speaking, locked around her neck by the insane AI, Pax Machina.

As they approach the Pax Machina facility where Ali had once been held, Joe and Hamia must prepare to deal with Pax Machina's defenses, and with Ali's growing frustration and desperation.

Read for you by Rob MacWolf — werewolf hitchhiker.

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https://thevoice.dog/episode/silence-and-sword-by-royce-day-part-2-of-2

Transcripts

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You’re listening to The Voice of Dog.

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The is Rob MacWolf, your fellow traveler,

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and Today’s story is the second and final part of “Silence and Sword”

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by Royce Day, which was originally published in the shared world anthology

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The Reclamation Project: Year One,

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edited by John Robey,

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and available through Furplanet. When he's

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not defeating the plots of insane artificial intelligences,

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Royce is complicating the romantic lives of the Darktail family in his long running

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Red Vixen Adventures series,

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available through Amazon.com,

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and has had short stories published by Armoured Fox Press,

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and Thurston Howl Publications Previously in Part One, Joe, a leopard electronics tech living in the post-apocalypse city of Ambara Down,

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was hired buy Hamia, a wazagan mercenary,

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and his adopted fox daughter Ali,

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to help remove a collar that prevents her from speaking,

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locked around her neck by the insane AI,

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Pax Machina. As they approach the Pax Machina facility where Ali had once been held, Joe and Hamia must prepare to deal with Pax Machina's defenses,

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and with Ali's growing frustration

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and desperation. Please enjoy

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“Silence and Sword, Part Two”

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by Royce Day Two more days' travel south of the mountains and west of Blood River Pass finally brought us close

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to our goal. We stopped at the

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badly-corroded remains of a sign that read,

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“Bel Air, Left Exit - 56,”

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and at Hamia's direction Ali

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pulled off the main road and carefully guided the skiff into the forest along an

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uneven track perhaps five meters wide,

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following the remains of ferrocrete pillars spaced about

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a hundred meters apart.

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They had probably been the foundation to some transport system from back before, but who really knew?

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Humans weren't in the habit of sharing their history with furries.

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As we traveled along at

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barely ten kilometers an hour,

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Hamia checked his map repeatedly,

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counting out the pillars.

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When he reached twenty-three,

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he told Ali to stop. "Here,"

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he said, pulling himself out of the skiff and tapping the pillar with his knuckle.

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"This is where I found you, Ali,

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curled up against this pillar,

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exhausted, but too frightened to sleep.

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Do you remember?" Ali looked around solemnly,

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what thoughts going through her head I couldn't imagine.

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Then the edge of her lip quirked up, and she signed something to Hamia,

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which made him let out a guffawing laugh.

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"I was not at all

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frightening!" he protested.

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I couldn't translate what she said, but the ‘Yes, you were!’

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implied in her expression was easy enough to make out. "All right,

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perhaps I did startle you.

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But you were amiable to me giving you water and a ration bar."

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She nodded, still smiling a little, though her

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eyes looked haunted by the memory.

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She turned around,

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scratching her head as she circled the pillar.

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"You can't remember which direction you were going before Hamia found you here?"

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I asked. When she nodded in agreement, I went on,

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"You want me to try using my equipment to triangulate where the Pax Machina facility is?"

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Ali nodded again, chewing her lip,

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ears folded back,

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as if she were afraid of the answer.

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I grabbed my toolbox from the back of the hoverskiff and

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pulled out the signal detector.

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Ali unbuttoned her shirt collar,

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revealing the metal ring around her neck, the red light at the center

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glowing much more brightly than it had back in my shop.

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I brought up the detector to her collar,

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and began slowly circling it around her neck.

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"Okay, your collar is transmitting a signal, just like the other one did when I powered it up back at Ambara Down,"

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I told her. "Now we just have to see if....

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There!" I shouted in triumph, as the detector let out an urgent

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bleep. "What?" Hamia demanded.

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"Something sent a signal

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back to the collar,"

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I told them both.

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I held the signal detector out in front of me,

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slowly moving it back and forth until the bleep sounded again.

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I pointed towards the northwest.

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"It's coming from that direction."

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"Excellent," Hamia declared.

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He drew that ridiculously huge sword from its sheath and

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Ali pulled out her pistol,

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removing the magazine and replacing it with one marked with a red stripe down the side.

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She mimed an explosion and mouthed

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“Boom!” Explosive needles.

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"Okay," I said. "You guys want to cover me while I narrow down where this place is?"

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Hamia exchanged a concerned look

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with Ali. "You gave us a direction to look,"

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he said. "Give Ali the detector,

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and she should be able to find it. You can stay with the skiff."

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"Hey, I came this far,"

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I protested. "Besides,

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you may need me to get you in,

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assuming the place is still active."

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"I don't enjoy the idea of placing you at risk,"

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Hamia said. "You are not trained in combat."

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"That's your area of expertise, not mine.

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Look, if anything starts shooting I'll drop flat and wait until you call the all clear, okay?"

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The big blue lizard rumbled unhappily, then finally said,

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"As you will." Then more softly,

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"Creator protect the foolish,

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including me." We started picking our way through the woods,

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mostly scrub pine and

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low needle bushes. Hamia took point, chopping through the underbrush with his sword,

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I was in the middle,

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periodically checking the signal detector,

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and Ali took up the rear.

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It took us almost an hour to work our way about a kilometer forward,

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as I kept an eye on the tracker and Ali and Hamia kept an eye on everything else.

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"Hold up," I said, swinging the signal detector around. I took

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four steps forward,

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then turned ninety degrees and took four more steps, rechecking the device.

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"I think we're right on top of the signal source."

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"Does any of this look familiar,

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Ali?" Hamia asked. She turned in a circle,

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looking around with a deep frown on her face, then gave a

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helpless gesture.

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I didn't even know what a

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tree was when I escaped that place,

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never mind remembering what they looked like

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when I got outside.

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"How did you get out, anyway?"

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I asked her. Ventilation shaft,

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she answered through Hamia.

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I stole a little wrench

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and pried open a vent cover

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and found my way out.

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She shuddered. I still remember Pax Machina calling for me to come back.

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"Okay, so let's look for a vent shaft,"

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I said. "Difficult," Hamia said. "With all this brush and pine needles on the ground, we could walk right past it."

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"So? We just need an aerial view." I started pulling off my boots and socks, flexing my claws.

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"I'm a leopard, remember?" "So you are!" Hamia laughed, as I started to climb up the tallest tree I could find.

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Scrub pines don't have the thickest trunks, but their bark had a rough, grabbable texture for my claws,

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which made up for the fact that I'm an

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urban kitty at heart.

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I pulled myself up as far as I dared,

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and sure enough, I spotted a square of ferrocrete about a meter wide,

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with a metal grate maybe two thirds of that in diameter,

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covered with enough leaves and brush that it would have been hard to spot on the ground.

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"To your right!" I called down to them.

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"About seven meters away.

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away." I shouted course corrections as Ali and Hamia walked carefully over to the grate,

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hopping out of the tree to join them after they spotted it. Ali had her arms folded across her chest,

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looking grim as she stared down at the steel cover.

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"Do you recognize this?"

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Hamia asked her, sounding concerned.

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She gave a short nod,

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not meeting our eyes.

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I held my paw over the vent,

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feeling a soft outflow of air.

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"Well, there's something active down there, that's for sure,"

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I said. "But is this the best way to get in?"

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"I do not like it," Hamia said. "You or

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Ali might crawl through there,

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but I could not. I would not be able to help you if something happened."

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Ali looked up and gestured.

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There must be an entrance somewhere,

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where food and construction materials for the things it had us

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building could be brought in.

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"Makes sense," I agreed,

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as Hamia rumbled softly and nodded.

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"How big was this place, do you remember at all?"

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I asked. She thought for a minute,

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started to pace forward,

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then walked back and started over,

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taking smaller steps,

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matching the stride of her younger self, I guessed.

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She stopped at about fifty paces, then scratched her ear in frustration.

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"It was a very long time ago,"

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Hamia tried to reassure her.

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"Think back to where you found the vent,

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and walk in the direction that the machines usually emerged from."

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Ali nodded, starting over at the vent,

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heading towards the south,

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and Hamia and I followed.

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We had walked maybe a hundred meters,

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when Hamia spotted a rusting pole with a camera mounted atop it,

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at the edge of a steep hillside. "I believe

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we are close," he whispered,

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holding his sword out in front of

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him. Ali nodded, unholstering her pistol again.

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I grabbed a stick for myself,

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as if it would do much good against a Pax Machina unit.

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We scooted down, claws digging into the grass and dirt, until we reached the bottom.

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A concrete door frame matched the angle of the hill, sealed tight by a two meter by two meter steel hatch.

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I stepped closer and

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knocked on it experimentally.

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My knuckles hit it with a solid, echoless thunk.

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"That's a thick door,"

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I noted, which earned me a withering Oh, really?

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look from Ali. "With no handle or visible hinges,"

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Hamia added, his frown deepening.

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"Joe, do you see anything

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that might activate it?"

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I unslung my toolbox from my shoulder, setting it on the ground and

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grabbing an electric torch with a UV light.

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I shined it along the seams of the hatch, looking for

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anything like an

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electronic sensor set in the frame that I possibly jigger.

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After almost a half hour of searching by every means I could think of, I came up short. Hell, the seal on the door was so tight I could barely fit a claw between it and the door frame.

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"I'm sorry," I finally said.

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"Not even a control panel I could pop open and play with.

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It must be controlled via a

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remote signal. It may be a case of having to just brute force it open."

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"Brute force is something I'm well practiced in,"

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said Hamia, raising his weapon.

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I hopped out of the way as he shoved the tip into the seal along the right hand edge,

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dug his toe claws into the earth,

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then grunted and leaned in on the handle with his considerable weight.

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The sword barely bent, and the door didn’t move at all.

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"What's that sword made out of?"

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I asked, as he continued to strain.

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"City… metal…" he grunted, the tendons visible on his neck as he continued to strain.

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"A sword made out a city's hull metal?"

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I asked in astonishment.

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"How did you ever get that?"

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"Clan... heirloo— whulp!"

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Hamia said in surprise, losing his grip on the sword's hilt as he

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flew forward, tumbling head over tail into the pine needles covering the forest floor,

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his sword flying in the opposite direction

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as both Ali and I dodged out of the way.

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"Well that didn't work,"

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he noted, pushing himself back onto his feet.

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Hamia grabbed his sword and tried again at the other three edges of the hatch, just in case.

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The damned door didn't budge as much as a millimeter.

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Ali gestured rapidly, her eyes wide with desperation, as Hamia sat on the forest floor, flexing his palms.

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“She wants to know if there’s anything else we can try,” he said.

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"Well, prying it open is out,

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and so is picking the lock,"

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I said. I rubbed the top of my head in frustration.

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"I didn't see anything like a

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blowtorch in the back of the skiff either."

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"I fear not," Hamia said.

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"Is that our only remaining option?"

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"Only one I can see, short of explosives."

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"'I have explo–' Ali,

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no!" Hamia started to interpret, and then

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dodged out of the way as Ali pulled out her needle pistol.

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I dropped flat to the ground as she fired at the door,

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the darts exploding as they made contact.

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She emptied her whole clip into it, the sound of the explosions echoing up and down the hillside,

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until all we could hear was a clicking noise

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as her finger pulled on the trigger

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over and over. Hamia kneeled in front of her, coming between her and the door

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as he pulled the needle gun from her paws.

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"Ali, I know you are frustrated,

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but we are so very

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close now," he said soothingly.

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"We just need to go back to Ambara Down

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and find the right equipment,

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and then return. Six days,

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perhaps a little more."

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I didn't know her gesture lingo, but the look of anger and frustration on her face was easy enough to translate.

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No more waiting! she seemed to say, as her

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paws and fingers waved furiously.

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"We've waited ten years to get here,"

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Hamia told her. "A few more days…"

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No! she mouthed, then beat her fists on his armored chestplate.

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When he grabbed her wrists to make her stop, she opened her mouth and shouted aloud,

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"No!" Ali's collar reacted

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immediately. The red light at her throat flashed and let out an angry beep, as she tried to grab it with her paws.

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Its surface crackled with energy,

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then I smelled ozone in the air as Ali let out a ragged scream,

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before collapsing in Hamia's

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arms. # # # Hamia picked up Ali and wrapped her in his cloak,

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and then we both jogged back as fast as we dared to the hoverskiff.

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"Is she going to be alright?"

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I huffed, running still barefoot with my boots cradled in my arms,

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almost ready to dump them and go down on all fours to match his pace.

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"I don't know!" he growled.

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He kept her cradled tightly in his arms,

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her body still twitching spasmodically. "This has only happened once before, when she was a small child, and that nearly killed her."

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"She's bigger now,"

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I said. "If the collar's discharge was at the same strength as when she was six, the overall effect shouldn't be as

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—" I shut my mouth as two and a half meters of angry blue lizard glared at me.

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Sometimes it would be better if I kept all my electrical know-how to myself.

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When we got back to skiff, Hamia laid Ali on the ground on his cloak,

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while I grabbed a first aid kit from the skiff's cargo bed.

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Hamia took it from me and pulled out a vial of anti-seizure meds

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and another vial containing nanorobots

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programmed to repair internal injuries suspended in saline,

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both of which he injected into her arm.

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Ali's frantic twitching stopped, and she

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took in a deep breath,

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her eyes fluttering open.

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"Don't try to speak,"

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Hamia said, pressing one big finger to her lips. Ali blinked twice, her eyes finally focusing on him as he squatted beside her.

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"I am deeply sorry

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that I made you so angry,

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Ali, but you must see now why caution is required.

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We will go back to Ambara Down,

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and then return with proper equipment,

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so that you may confront your tormentor

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with my sword at your side.

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Do you understand?" Ali sighed,

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looking weary. Then she nodded and gestured to Hamia briefly,

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before turning on her side away from us.

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"She wishes to sleep now,"

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he told me. "We will camp here overnight,

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and start back to Ambara Down in the morning.

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I will of course pay you for leading us here and,

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if you are amiable,

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we will offer you a percentage of the contents of the facility, once we open it and

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disable the Pax Machina units within."

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"That's fine, I guess.

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guess." We stepped back a bit to give her a little privacy, and I asked,

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"Are you sure she's going to be alright?"

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The big guy flexed his toe claws, digging long furrows into the dirt as he stared down at them.

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"Physically, probably,"

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he said. "Emotionally…

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Sometimes I forget that she is not quite yet an adult by furry

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standards.

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By my people's she's almost an infant."

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"Never been a parent myself,

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but I can't imagine raising her has been that easy for you," I said.

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Hamia blew out his breath,

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like a steam engine releasing pressure.

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"My ignorance on matters concerning the upbringing of children

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is vast." He waved his hand in frustration.

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"It is something that is done by

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all the adults in the clan,

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males, females, and neuters.

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For someone to think they could go it alone is

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pure hubris." "So why didn't you take her back home to your folks?"

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Another big sigh,

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this one sounding like it was filled with deep regret.

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"That was never an option.

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option." “We’ll get the right tools, and get that door open,”

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I said. “We have to.

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That facility is our only hope of getting that accursed collar off of Ali.

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It’s already becoming difficult for her to swallow.

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If she grows any more, if it

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gets too tight…” Hamia’s

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hands tightened into fists.

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“I dread what she may beg me to do,

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to end her suffering.”

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I couldn't really think of anything to say after that,

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so I settled on helping Hamia

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build a fire and cook dinner for us both,

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setting aside a portion for Ali if she woke up hungry.

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As we ate, the sun disappeared behind the hills.

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Hamia sat cross-legged,

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watching over the young vixen's sleep,

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and looking deeply

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worried. # # # I'd like to say it was my incredibly fine-tuned senses that woke me in the middle of the night,

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but I have to admit it was just my bladder. I got up, intent on finding a handy tree to pee behind, when I looked down and saw that

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Ali's sleeping bag was empty.

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I looked around the campsite, not seeing her in the moonless darkness.

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Worse, what I did find was my toolkit open on the ground,

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my signal detector

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and multi-tool both missing.

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"Ali? Ali?" I called out urgently. Hamia's ears twitched, and he awoke with a muzzy, confused question in a language I didn't understand. "Hamia, wake up! Ali's gone missing," I said urgently, shaking his shoulder.

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"Wha— what?" he said, blinking awake.

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He stood up, naked except for his shorts, all two and a half meters of

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him. He grabbed his sword from where he'd left it in the hoverskiff's cargo bed.

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"Where did she…? Oh, no!"

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"Yeah, that's what I figured too,"

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I agreed, grabbing my tool kit and

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following him as he started pacing as fast as he dared through the dark.

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"Is she mad? The delay would have only been for six or seven days."

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"She's a teenager.

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Six days may as well be an eternity, especially when she's this close to getting that damned collar off," I said.

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"You… are not wrong,"

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he admitted. Soon Hamia was walking behind me as the trees grew thick,

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depending on my superior night vision to guide us.

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My one fear, that we'd

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pass the vent grate in the darkness, proved unfounded, when we spotted the light ahead of us.

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We both quickened our pace, stopping before the open grate,

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light pouring upward from below.

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"Ali!" Hamia shouted, sounding frantic.

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"Ali! Can you hear me?

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Please come out!" He waited a moment, pacing back and forth in the front of the opening, his tail lashing,

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but neither of us heard anything.

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"Why is she doing this?

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I swore an oath to her that I would protect her,

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and find a way to rid her of that accursed

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piece of tech!"

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I stuck my head in the opening and tried shouting as well.

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I called her name twice, listening as I looked down into the opening, only seeing a black rubber mat on a floor maybe

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three meters below us,

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with the remains of a broken circulation fan laying atop it.

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The vent shaft was a bit over a

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half meter wide, and Ali probably had slid down it easily.

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I could too, if I was willing to hunch my shoulders a bit, but it was impossibly tight for Hamia

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to try. "I can go after her,"

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I said. Hamia looked stricken.

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"I… I cannot ask that of you.

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It's far too dangerous, and you have no bond with Ali as I do."

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"You're not asking, I'm volunteering,"

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I said, sitting on the edge of the shaft.

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"You don't even have a weapon!"

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"Ali does, and I couldn't

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even pick up that big sword of yours if you gave it to me.

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me." I started sliding down,

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boots pressed to the sides of the shaft,

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grabbing my tool kit as I went in. "See you

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in a bit!" "Creator guide you!"

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he called back. I dropped awkwardly to the ground, trying to miss the circulation fan as I held onto my toolkit.

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I was at the end of a long steel hallway

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lit by overhead lights, with several steel doors on either side.

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The walls were painted white,

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and the air smelled musty and disused despite the air circulation.

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Of Ali there was no sign,

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but on the plus side there weren't any Pax Machina robots either.

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I pulled open a door at random, sliding it back.

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It opened to a cramped room not much bigger than a closet,

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with two empty cots sized for kits,

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and a rack with kit sized white jumpsuits.

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I closed it again, happy

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not to have found anything else.

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"Ali," I called out.

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"You there?" I realized what a ridiculous thing it was to say even as it left my mouth.

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She couldn't call out even if she was in trouble.

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Which was ridiculous of me to think, as I heard

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her answering whistle up ahead.

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I padded forward quietly to the end of the hall, which ended in a T junction.

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I turned to the left more or less at random and got

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lucky, finding Ali around the next corner.

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She was standing in a doorway which opened up into a large workroom,

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with a half-dozen long steel tables and benches set in two rows in the center.

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The walls were lined with equipment and parts, and a

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large door led deeper into the facility at the end.

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Ali’s face was set in a frown, her pistol in her paws, though it was pointed at the floor.

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"Is this where you and the other kits worked?"

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I asked. She nodded solemnly.

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I stepped inside, looking around.

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The first thing I looked at were the parts on the shelves.

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There were small,

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white, cube shaped cases about

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five centimeters on each side, perhaps a

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few hundred in all.

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Other shelves had

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storage drawers filled with plastic coated wires in various colors,

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buttons and switches,

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and small control chips.

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Most curious was the collection of sound sensors.

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I pried one open with a claw and could tell that it was very sensitive,

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perhaps able to detect sounds as low as twenty decibels, less than a whisper.

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"Did they have you building several things,

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or just one thing?" I asked Ali.

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She held up a single finger.

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"Okay, one thing. Can you show me?

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Do you remember how?" At her glare, I explained,

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"I just want to figure out what they were for, why it was

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so important to keep you and the other

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kits quiet." Ali nodded reluctantly,

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seeing my logic I guess. She headed over to the parts shelves and pulled out a single case,

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several wires, a sound sensor,

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and other parts and small tools. She worked quickly, assembling the parts almost without

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looking at them, the moves nearly automatic.

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When she'd finished there was an open case in front of her,

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wiring, control chip and sound sensor in place.

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In the center of it was a smaller steel case, maybe two centimeters wide, connected by a pair of wires to the control chip.

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"Do you know what

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that thing is?" I asked.

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When she shook her head, I grabbed another one from the parts shelves.

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Then I took my multitool back from Ali, and pried the little cube open.

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In the center I found a smaller cube of what appeared to be gray modeling clay.

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"Oh," I said, putting it down

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very carefully, and tried to imagine what would have happened if I'd jammed my knife in

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too hard. What? Ali's expression seemed to ask.

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"I think that's plastic explosive,"

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I told her. "My mom showed it to me once, when she was teaching me how to safely dig up junk from the Deep Warrens.

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Your pal Pax Machina

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had you kits building

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sound-activated bombs. That little cube would be enough to blow either my shop or your hoverskiff into tiny pieces." Ali's ears flipped back and her eyes went wide, as her paw reached up to touch her collar unconsciously.

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"Yeah," I agreed. "Get the wiring mixed up, or flip the wrong switch when you're building it,

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and you could have all gone up with a sneeze.

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sneeze." I reached down, intending to use the multi-tool's wire cutter to snip the connection between the chip and the bomb's power cell.

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Ali's paw shot out,

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grabbing my wrist to stop me.

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Then she picked up the case and cradled it in the crook of her arm.

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"You want to keep that?"

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I asked. "Okay whatever, but we need to get out of here.

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We can use that explosive to blow the front door,

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then Hamia can help us look around."

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From her expression,

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it looked like Ali wanted to argue the point,

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but then she nodded reluctantly,

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and turned towards the doorway leading back to the dormitory.

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Which then slammed

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shut. "Greetings, Service Unit #652-396!" Pax Machina said cheerily over the loudspeakers. "It has been 4,026 days since your last completed

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work shift!" The door at the front of the room rolled back,

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and a six-wheeled robot rolled in.

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It was about my height,

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built in a rectangular box shape with an ovoid sensor unit on top and four retractable tentacle arms

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spaced equally around its body. "Please complete your work shift to earn your next calorie ration!"

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Ali stared at the unit, her tail floofed out

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in a panicked brush,

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ears flat to her head,

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lips drawn back in a silent snarl.

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Her pistol was in her paw, but she hadn't fired it yet. "Hey, Ali is a fox, not a service unit!"

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I called out to Pax Machina.

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"She's not here to build your bombs.

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She just wants that damned collar off her neck." "Service Unit #652-396's Volume Discouragement Device is for the

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safety of this facility. It cannot be removed."

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Ali fired her pistol,

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and a steel needle pinged off the robot's sensor unit.

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The robot's front arm shot out, wrapping around Ali's neck and lifting her bodily off the ground as she dropped the

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bomb case. "Attempting to damage Pax Machina may result in

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the revocation of oxygen privileges,"

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it stated, as Ali's eyes began to bulge out of their sockets.

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I ran over to the work table, grabbing the little cube of plastic explosive and tossing it at the robot.

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It bounced off and landed on the floor in front of the robot.

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Feet kicking desperately in the air,

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Ali fired at the robot once more.

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The first needle just bounced off its hull again.

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Then she fired downward,

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aiming at the lump of explosive.

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It detonated, sending Ali and I both flying

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across the room, as the robot’s torso fortunately

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absorbed most of the blast,

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disintegrating it.

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"You okay?" I asked her,

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picking myself up off the floor as my ears rang.

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She sat up, coughing as I helped her untangle the now limp tentacle from around her neck.

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"Why didn't you just fire one of your explosive needles at it?"

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She held up her paws,

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miming shooting her pistol at the palm of her opposite hand, held up at an angle.

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"You used them up when you shot at the door?"

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I asked, and she nodded in confirmation, giving me an embarrassed smile.

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"Oh, great." I stood up and looked around.

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The door back to the corridor and the vent shaft where we came in was shut tight,

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but the door leading deeper into the facility was still open.

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Ali gave my signal detector back and I

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checked the direction the collar was transmitting.

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"Guess we go forward then,"

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I said, and she nodded in agreement.

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She grabbed a double handful of the explosives, and the cube she'd built,

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and we slowly began to creep through the door.

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It led out into a hallway twice as wide as the one in the dormitory,

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with more sliding doors.

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I opened the first one to my right and found a room with a

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padded chair sized for kits,

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with straps to hold the sitter down.

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I swallowed and backed away,

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to almost bump into Ali, who was staring in quiet fury at another doorway.

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Inside there were more shelves,

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filled with collars like Ali's.

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There had to be at least two dozen of them,

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matching the number of beds in the dorm rooms I'd seen.

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"How many kits did Pax Machina take?"

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I asked aloud. "Do you

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remember how many were here with you?"

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Ali thought for a moment

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and held up both her paws,

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splaying her fingers once,

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twice, three times.

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"Thirty? Then where did they

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go?" "All Service Units were placed in long term storage, once they had completed their current work assignment," Pax Machina answered over the loudspeakers,

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in that same damned cheerful tone.

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I flinched briefly.

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Even without visible cameras, the facility’s AI had to be tracking Ali’s movements with her collar,

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maybe even listening to our conversations.

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I got a hold of myself and asked,

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"Are they here?" "The Service Units are

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no longer at this facility."

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We started walking forward,

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me with one of the explosive cubes in my paw, Ali with her needle gun out.

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"So where is long term storage then?"

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I asked. "That information is not available to non-Pax Machina units.

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units." We went through another open door,

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to what had to be the entrance to the facility.

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The angled hatch that had defeated us yesterday was right in front of us,

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through possibly a garage or loading area, judging by the marks on the floor where

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vehicles must have once sat.

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Along the walls were several large tubes,

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two meters long by one meter wide,

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whose purpose wasn’t obvious to me.

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"This facility has completed its most recent production run, correct?"

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I asked aloud. "That is correct."

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"So Service Unit #652-396 doesn't actually

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have any more assignments, isn't that right?"

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Beside me, Ali blinked and gave me a

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What do you think you're doing? expression.

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"That is correct. Thank you for the clarification. Updating 652-396's status to Redundant.

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Redundant." Three service tentacles unfolded from the ceiling, grabbing Ali by the shoulders and neck, and hauling her into the air.

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She kicked her feet wildly, as one of the tubes trundled away from the wall,

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opening up to reveal a padded space

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big enough to deposit a kit,

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or a small fox. "Oh, wait!"

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I called up cheerfully, thinking fast.

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"Before you do that, could you open the door

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and let me out?" "Certainly,"

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Pax Machina replied. "Have a nice day!" With a hydraulic whine, the steel hatch slid back,

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revealing the forest, the early morning sun peeking above the horizon,

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and two and a half meters of righteously furious, half naked blue lizard, sword in hand,

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rushing in the moment the hatch opened. "Ali!" Hamia roared.

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He swung his sword in a wide arc, slicing through the tentacles holding her in the air.

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She dropped to her feet, coughing and running with me out the door,

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as Hamia roared again, his sword smashing through the container tub.

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"Do not touch her, you ungodly

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mechanisms!"

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"Destruction of Pax Machina units may result in revocation of oxygen privileges," Pax Machina warned, as more tentacles reached down towards him.

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Past the door, the tentacles seemed unable to reach,

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or maybe they were just uninterested. "Hamia, we're clear!

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Get out of there!"

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I shouted, as Ali whistled loudly beside me. Hamia sliced through another tentacle,

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dancing backwards out the hatch

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as the remaining ones reached for him.

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Thinking fast, he slipped his hull metal sword underneath the closing hatch,

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jamming it open. When we were all outside and safe,

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Hamia turned to Ali,

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his face a mixture of fury and relief. "Ali,

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you foolish, foolish eggling!

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You had no right to terrify an old

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lizard like that!"

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"Don't worry, it was worth it,"

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I said, pointing to her neck.

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"See?" Ali reached up,

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touching the bare

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matted fur of her neck,

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the collar that she'd worn for her whole life gone.

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Her eyes grew wide, as Hamia let out a roaring whoop of joy.

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How? she mouthed and signed.

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"When Pax Machina mentioned the kits had been moved after completing their

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assignment, I remembered all the collars back in that one room,"

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I told them. "If they were finished

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making those stupid sonic bombs,

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there would be no reason to wear them anymore.

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Once I'd convinced the facility you'd finished your work, it popped it off

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when it was getting ready to drop you into that container.

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I'm sorry I didn't have any way of warning you

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though, Ali." It's okay, she signed as Hamia interpreted.

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It's… She gave up trying to form coherent words and just hugged me, sobbing in relief.

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"What do we do now?"

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Hamia asked. "I don't like the idea of this place remaining active,

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for other kits to be imprisoned so cruelly within it."

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"I gotta agree with you,"

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I said. "Believe me, I'd love the salvage, but…"

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Ali pulled away from me and signed something up to Hamia, a fierce grin on her face.

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"What do you mean it's taken care of?"

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he asked. She pulled the sonic explosive she'd built earlier from her pocket,

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flicking the activation switch on the side and sending sliding along the smooth concrete floor,

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to stop at the end of the line of little explosive cores she'd been dropping like breadcrumbs

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as we'd walked down the hall from the assembly room. Then Hamia and I ducked for cover as she stepped away from the hatch,

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pressing her fingers to her lips and letting out an

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ear-piercing whistle.

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There was a loud series of whump-whump

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-whumps as the explosives detonated,

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ending a deafening CRUMP!

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as they reached the assembly room,

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the entire top of the hill lifting into the air briefly,

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before dropping back down,

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forming an irregular crater

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as the remains of the facility collapsed in on itself, dust and smoke

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rising in the air. Hamia, who had fallen with Ali and I when the explosion went off, sat up,

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laughing uproariously.

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"Well done, Ali!

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Wonderfully done!"

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Ali stepped over to him,

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gripping the lizard's hand in both of her own,

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her voice scratchy as she whispered,

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"Thank you, Father." # # #

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Three days later we made it back to Ambara Down,

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and shared a round of drinks at the Damselfly.

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I'd lost my chance at a king's ransom in salvage,

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but I was still feeling pretty good.

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I'd helped Ali get that damned collar off,

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and the remaining half-dozen explosive cores she'd had leftover in her pockets would be enough to pay my rent for

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nearly a year, or maybe more if I could use them to spin a story to a gullible ‘Claimer about a Pax Machina facility just waiting to be found.

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"So now what?" I asked them,

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as I finished off my third pint.

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"There were thirty kits being held prisoner by Pax Machina,"

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Hamia said. "I will not be satisfied until I know their fate.

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If they are still alive, they must be freed,

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and Pax Machina taught not to attempt such cruelty again." "You gonna

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keep following this big lizard then, Ali?"

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I asked her. She grinned at me,

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trading sips of honey tea with her beer,

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to ease her throat as she practiced talking again.

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"Why not," she whispered.

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"It's been fun so far.

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far." "Good luck to you both then,"

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I told them, standing up and shaking their hands.

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I had the feeling they'd find those kits.

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I hoped I'd have a chance to help them

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when they did. This was the second and final part of “Silence and Sword” by Royce Day,

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read for you by Rob MacWolf,

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werewolf hitchhiker.

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You can find more stories on the web at thevoice.dog,

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or find the show wherever you get your podcasts.

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Thank you for listening to The Voice of Dog.

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