Broken People (Serial)

Forty-Four

Renard went ahead to lead the way to the upper floor, but Dale remained behind, close to Cole. He eyed the grand staircase with concern, worried it might turn into a challenge for the transporter. The multi-joint legs were not designed to climb steps. A tank would have made it easier, but Spinner disagreed.

Cole's whole body wobbled when he touched the first step. He took in a deep breath and tried again. One step after another, the command system connected to the nerves in his spine had him advancing with increasing speed. Perhaps this would work after all, even if he sometimes forgot to coordinate the free legs and they dragged uselessly behind him.

On the first floor, they slowly moved along the corridor. Dale made no sound. Cole was reasonably quiet, considering the sheer size of his machine. The knife throwers were unexpectedly loud, each heavy step landing with a thud. The devices inside their shoulders and upper arms let out a low hum that wasn't normally audible, but these weren't normal circumstances.

Several meters ahead, Renard went in and out of sight, signaling them when to advance and when to stop. They had the surveillance system under control, but there were also human guards patrolling the castle. Twice, Renard threw out his hand: Wait! If there was anyone in the adjacent corridors, Dale didn't see them when they passed.

Rake unlocked the door leading to the Parliament wing, and they squeezed through to the other side. This part of the castle was closed to the public at night, so they could relax some. The southwest tower was just around the corner.

After another set of heavy doors, they reached the vault room. Renard waited in the corridor, keeping an eye on what was happening outside. Dale walked with Cole to the round, metal door.

"This is it," he said. "Can you open it?"

Cole blinked once, his eyes fixated on the simple, round metal door. The collar that supported his jaw made nodding impossible.

Dale clenched his teeth. They should have attached a speaking device to his vocal cords, something similar to what they had done to the Swan, but there had been no time, and speech wasn't mandatory for his job. The mobile arms helped some; too bad he didn't have better control to use them instead of his real ones.

Rake opened one side of the transporter and pulled out a drawer loaded with tools. He nodded at Spinner.

"Okay, here we go...," Spinner murmured. He fussed over the cases that protected Cole's arms, checked the dials, and pressed a pair of buttons.

The cases opened simultaneously, the top covers sliding to the side, revealing Cole's arms. Under the yellow gel covering them, the skin hadn't regenerated yet, but the exposed flesh showed no more burn marks.

He didn't move, not even a finger twitched. Dale frowned. Something had gone wrong. They had come all this way for nothing. Or had they? Spinner gave Cole a shot, and Cole groaned as the anesthesia quickly wore off. He needed a clear head and total control over what was left of his nerves and muscles to perform the job.

The metal arms picked up the device offered by Rake and inserted it into the keyhole on the side of the vault door. He handled the instrument with care, taking his time maneuvering it, while the metrics read by the scanner were recorded and he did all of the calculations. The old vault still needed a key, but not just any key, so Cole assembled a workbench in front of him on the transporter and set himself to work.

Meanwhile, Rake and Spinner installed two bright spotlights to provide perfect working conditions.

Dale paced the floor. He didn't hear the fireworks exploding anymore, nor the Robot Girl's theatrics. Soon, people would tire of the cold and get bored of the circus acts, no matter how much the performers insisted on getting their attention, and they would return inside. The menzataxor would keep them distracted for a while, but it wouldn't take long until someone noticed the transporter's absence. Then they would become aware more people were missing and start asking questions. There wasn't much time, and Cole was moving in slow motion.