can summon, I kick the Vector Commander in the face, hearing the crunch of bone as my blow dislocates its jaw. Blue liquid seeps down the side of its face as my boot tears away skin and tissue from its chin, exposing filed, jagged teeth. It turns toward me, a sick grin tugging the exposed tissue upward, and digs a heavily booted foot into the other Vector’s chest until gray-blue fluid pools around his sole.
Emotion ? Impossible.
But it is a grin… a horrible mockery of a grin. Vectors are inanimate, robot-cell controlled hosts. They don’t think for themselves, and they certainly don’t smile.
But this one does.
“What are you?” I whisper as it twists its head in both hands to realign its neck, staring at me with a knowing expression. I have never felt such fear, not even when I was running for my life to escape Murek’s guard.
“A general,” it answers. “Like you.”
“I am no general,” I snap.
“Yes, you were a colossal failure, weren’t you?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re a machine. You’re dead.” I don’t know why I feel the need to defend myself against the poisonous words of this thing, but something about it reminds me of my father… judging me, even now.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” it says. “Come home, Riven. Bring the boy. All will be well.” The Vector bends its head in a conciliatory way, which only makes it seem more macabre without half its face, but I am mesmerized by its last words. And terrified.
“You don’t want to kill him?” The thing wavers as if reading something on my face and I deaden my expression, but it’s too late.
“No,” it says. The word is a lie. There’s no way they’d keep Caden alive. Murek wants Cale dead. It made sense to reason that they wanted Caden dead, too. Unless… “Why do you think I didn’t kill this boy?” the Vector says, distracting my ugly train of thought. It holds a black-gloved hand up that’s easily twice the size of mine. “It would be so easy,” it says squeezing his fist.
“So why didn’t you?” I hide the fear sliding around inside of me with bravado, but I know without a doubt that I can’t trust anything this creature says. But I need to buy time… time to think.
“Orders are orders. I don’t ask questions.”
“Why are you different from the others?” I say. “How can you talk?”
“That is the question,” the Vector says taking a step toward me. It’s not aggressive, but I step back anyway and feel the bed frame against the back of my knees. I’m nearly trapped. The only way around the creature will be over the bed to the bathroom door or the window. “Your father created me after you left.”
“Are you alive?”
That gruesome smile again. “More than the others. Less than you.” Its cryptic words irritate me. It’s as if the thing is playing some kind of game, one that I’m sure has no rules.
“Why would they make you?” I say. The Vector smiles again, and I can feel the bottom of my stomach drop even before it says the words. The sick pleasure on its face makes me want to retch.
“Because the Lord King is dead.”
“You’re lying.”
Everything inside of me feels like it’s disappearing – bones, blood, air – until I’m nothing but a shell collapsing upon itself. I can’t even breathe. In slow motion, I fall back against the side of the bed, legs buckling, but my senses haven’t completely deserted me, and out of the corner of my eye, I see the Vector reach for a long-handled spiked weapon. On autopilot, I scramble across the bed and shove myself to the other side just as it lifts the entire bed frame with one hand and smashes it against the wall. Chunks of wood and steel explode into the exposed parts of my body.
Before I can move, the Vector’s spike swings toward my head, and I dive forward, my swords cleaving into its calves before rolling to its left. It barely deters the creature, and I fend off another attack, sparks flying
Emotion ? Impossible.
But it is a grin… a horrible mockery of a grin. Vectors are inanimate, robot-cell controlled hosts. They don’t think for themselves, and they certainly don’t smile.
But this one does.
“What are you?” I whisper as it twists its head in both hands to realign its neck, staring at me with a knowing expression. I have never felt such fear, not even when I was running for my life to escape Murek’s guard.
“A general,” it answers. “Like you.”
“I am no general,” I snap.
“Yes, you were a colossal failure, weren’t you?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re a machine. You’re dead.” I don’t know why I feel the need to defend myself against the poisonous words of this thing, but something about it reminds me of my father… judging me, even now.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” it says. “Come home, Riven. Bring the boy. All will be well.” The Vector bends its head in a conciliatory way, which only makes it seem more macabre without half its face, but I am mesmerized by its last words. And terrified.
“You don’t want to kill him?” The thing wavers as if reading something on my face and I deaden my expression, but it’s too late.
“No,” it says. The word is a lie. There’s no way they’d keep Caden alive. Murek wants Cale dead. It made sense to reason that they wanted Caden dead, too. Unless… “Why do you think I didn’t kill this boy?” the Vector says, distracting my ugly train of thought. It holds a black-gloved hand up that’s easily twice the size of mine. “It would be so easy,” it says squeezing his fist.
“So why didn’t you?” I hide the fear sliding around inside of me with bravado, but I know without a doubt that I can’t trust anything this creature says. But I need to buy time… time to think.
“Orders are orders. I don’t ask questions.”
“Why are you different from the others?” I say. “How can you talk?”
“That is the question,” the Vector says taking a step toward me. It’s not aggressive, but I step back anyway and feel the bed frame against the back of my knees. I’m nearly trapped. The only way around the creature will be over the bed to the bathroom door or the window. “Your father created me after you left.”
“Are you alive?”
That gruesome smile again. “More than the others. Less than you.” Its cryptic words irritate me. It’s as if the thing is playing some kind of game, one that I’m sure has no rules.
“Why would they make you?” I say. The Vector smiles again, and I can feel the bottom of my stomach drop even before it says the words. The sick pleasure on its face makes me want to retch.
“Because the Lord King is dead.”
“You’re lying.”
Everything inside of me feels like it’s disappearing – bones, blood, air – until I’m nothing but a shell collapsing upon itself. I can’t even breathe. In slow motion, I fall back against the side of the bed, legs buckling, but my senses haven’t completely deserted me, and out of the corner of my eye, I see the Vector reach for a long-handled spiked weapon. On autopilot, I scramble across the bed and shove myself to the other side just as it lifts the entire bed frame with one hand and smashes it against the wall. Chunks of wood and steel explode into the exposed parts of my body.
Before I can move, the Vector’s spike swings toward my head, and I dive forward, my swords cleaving into its calves before rolling to its left. It barely deters the creature, and I fend off another attack, sparks flying
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