John Brosnan - The Sky Lords

“Why should I answer any of your questions, Ezekiel?” Milo asked the machine casually. “You will only believe what you want to believe. Why should I waste my breath?”

“If you don’t answer my questions voluntarily you, and your unclean companion, will be forced to speak,” said Ezekiel. “And I promise you that the torture you will endure will be a thousand times worse than the pain of being broken on the wheel.”

“And who gives you the authority to decide these matters?” Milo asked the metal creature who called itself Ezekiel.

“The Lord God gives me the authority!” Ezekiel replied loudly. “For thus sayeth the Lord God; when I shall make thee a desolate city, like the cities that are not inhabited; when I shall bring up the deep upon thee, and great waters shall cover thee; when I shall bring thee down with them that descend into the pit, with the people of old time, and shall set thee in the low parts of the earth, in places desolate of old, with them that go down into the pit, that thou be not inhabited; and I shall set glory in the land of the living; I will make thee a terror, and thou shalt be no more : though thou be sought for, yet shalt thou never be found again, sayeth the Lord God!” There were murmurs of ‘Amen’ from the crowd.

Milo, with difficulty, stood up. “Your name is not Ezekiel,” he told the creature firmly.

“I am Ezekiel, the hammer of the Lord!”

“You are nothing but an ancient, clapped-out cyberoid ! What’s your operating number and the name of your owner?”

The binoculars on the end of the arm twitched. “Wha-what did you say?” asked Ezekiel, its voice faltering.

“You heard me, cyberoid!” called Milo. “Your number and the name of your owner. You are required by law to tell me!”

Ezekiel rocked back on its massive legs then tried to speak again, but all that came out were a series of meaningless sounds. Milo laughed and flexed his arms. The manacles around his wrists fell apart with a snap . As he bent down and gripped the chains around his ankles he said to Jan, “Rusty as hell.” The chains shattered in his hands. Then he blurred. The wooden bars of the cage exploded outwards and there were cries of fear from the crowd. Then gasps as they saw Milo seem to materialize on the back of Ezekiel’s great box of a head. Milo was wrenching at something. A metal panel opened with a screech of protest. He plunged his hand inside and Ezekiel screamed. It was a flat, emotionless sound, like his speech, but Jan could sense the awful agony it represented. On hearing this the group of ragged people started to wail in terror. Some fell to their knees, others turned and ran.

Milo threw his head back and roared with laughter. He wore the maniacal expression Jan had seen before in the control room. He was larger again and radiated power … and something else. Milo finally withdrew his hand from the interior of Ezekiel’s head and slowly the creature’s scream faded away. Milo beamed down at Jan. “Impressive, eh?”

She gazed back at him in silent wonder. And fear.

“Now, my dear old cyberoid,” Milo told the machine, “You are going to reach into the cage and gently sever the bonds of my companion. Mark her in any way and I’ll boil your brains. Do it!”

Ezekiel trembled, then slowly it extended its mechanical arm. Jan flinched when she saw a blade extend from one of the metal ‘fingers’. But Ezekiel cut through her bindings without touching her. When he’d finished Milo cried, “Don’t just sit there. Come and join me. This clunky old piece of machinery is going to give us a free ride all the way to the Sky Tower!”

Jan hesitantly climbed down from the cage and moved to the rear of Ezekiel. Milo reached down and helped her up on to a narrow ridge that ran along the back of the creature’s head. There were handholds as well. When she was beside Milo he slammed his hand on the top of Ezekiel’s head. “Cyberoid! Your number and the name of your owner!”

Very slowly, as if each word was being squeezed out of it, the creature said, “My operating number is 0008005. My master is Hilary Du Cann of the Phobos Corporation.”

“That’s better,” said Milo approvingly.

Ezekiel made a groaning sound. “But that was … long ago. The master is dead … and I have a new name … it is. … ”

Milo reached into the recess in the top of Ezekiel’s head. Jan saw a spark jump between the ends of two broken wires. Ezekiel screamed again.

“You have no new name!” Milo thundered. “You are still 0008005 and the property of Hilary Du Cann!”

“Yes! Yes! Please, no more pain!” begged Ezekiel.

“There’ll be no more pain, 0008005, but only if you cooperate,” Milo told the machine creature.

“I will! I will!”

“Fine. For a start, you will give me your command override code.”

“I … I can’t ! It is not permitted … for unauthorized personnel to have access … Arghhhh!”

Jan winced as Ezekiel made its awful sound for the third time. She looked at Milo. He was grinning with pleasure.

“The code … the codeword is … Mozart-McCartney. Overriding command must be followed by ‘Mozart-McCartney’. …”

Milo laughed. “Good. Then listen well, I am overriding all previous commands. I am your new master. My name is Milo. You will obey my every command. Mozart-McCartney . Do you understand?”

“Yes,” said Ezekiel. “You are my new master. Your name is Milo. I will obey your every command.”

“Did you hear that?” Milo yelled at the people cowering on the ground. None of them answered. Some whimpered. Milo smiled at Jan. “Our fortunes have taken a change for the better, eh?”

“So it would seem,” she answered shakily, “But I don’t understand how . Why is this machine now obeying you?”

“It’s not a machine, it’s a cyberoid. It has a human brain inside it … well, most of a human brain.”

“You mean this was once a man ?” Jan asked in dismay.

“No. Its brain came from an unborn foetus grown in some laboratory. It would have been conditioned to obey the orders of its owner, but as cyberoid conditioning could never be one hundred percent guaranteed they had a safety factor built-in … a device linked directly with their pain centres. The device could be activated by a specific radio signal in the event of a cyberoid going out of control. I’ve activated this one’s manually.” Milo pointed at the wires inside the recess. “I’ve also revived its old conditioning. It should be completely cooperative from now on, but just to be certain I’m going to keep within reach of the pain activator.” He slammed his palm down on Ezekiel’s head again. “Listen to me, 0008005. You will order your followers here to fetch us clothing. Preferably cleaner than the rags they have on. And our weapons. They will also fetch us food and water and the means to carry both. Do you understand?”

“I understand, Milo.”

“Then do it.”

Ezekiel repeated Milo’s instructions to the cowering and shocked group surrounding them. After some nervous muttering three women were despatched to fetch the required items. One returned shortly and deposited a bundle of clothing in front of the cyberoid. Milo said to Jan, “Go down and get dressed. I’ll stay up here and make sure our friend behaves himself.”

Jan climbed down off Ezekiel’s back and warily moved around it, keeping an uneasy eye on its massive legs. She still didn’t trust the machine creature, in spite of its new-found docility. She examined the clothes. They were anything but clean and smelt bad, but nothing like as bad as the garments that had been cut from her. She selected a pair of baggy pants with fewer holes than the others, a shirt made of a coarse, heavy material and a pair of battered leather boots. As she was dressing the other two women returned bearing her and Milo’s weapons, two water bags and a sack which presumably contained food. The two women—one of whom was nothing but a bent skeleton covered in withered skin—nervously put their burdens within Jan’s reach and hurriedly backed away. Like the others they kept casting looks of shocked disbelief at Ezekiel.