Chapter VII: Nemesis

 

The next few days settled into a pattern, as I began to get accustomed to my new life. It was kind of sad, having to leave everything behind, and I certainly spent a few evenings crying over it, but it wasn’t like there was anything I could do. I had no idea how I had even come to Selene in the first place, and even less of an idea what I could do to get back. I started to wonder… was it possible that my cover story was true? Was I just some poor woman from Amrinval, struck by illness, who hallucinated an entire other world, and a life as a man? If that was true, it certainly spoke well for the power of my imagination.

After the first few days I could pretty much manage all of the different styles of clothing, though corsets were still right out, so Anna and I had less and less of an opportunity to talk. Fencing lessons with Miss Rook and lessons in boot-licking with Aisha were a daily event, and Sir Margaret even lead me out to the stables for riding, though I wasn’t very good at that. I also spent a lot of time in the library, reading all sorts of things because it wasn’t like there was much else to do for entertainment here. There were history books, scientific texts, as well as traveller’s tales and even a few romance novels which of course bore no interest to me whatsoever, and anyone who says otherwise is lying. 

More importantly were the few books on programming, including one specifically detailing the bizarre programming language used by the Archopolids. I still had the roll of punch tape taken from the one that attacked the party, and figured I could be of help if I knew how to read the instructions. And so, four days after my arrival, I found myself in a corner of the library, huddled around an impressively large hardback, with a pencil behind my ear and a stack of paper in my lap.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” I was suddenly broken out of my concentration by the piercing voice of Lady Halflance.

“It’s not exactly a surprise, I spent most of my time here. The better question is what you’re doing here, considering I’ve never seen you around here,” I said.

“You act as if I’m a clockwork machine built only for debating politics and being stern. I’m here to read a book, maybe relax a little bit with the woman I married.” It was only then that I even realized that Sir Margaret was there as well, leaning her head against her much taller spouse.

“Hello there Emma! I hope your shoulder’s feeling well, after that fall? I’m really sorry about Vivian, she’s normally not that rambunctious I swear,” said Sir Margaret. Vivian was one of the Halflance’s… I wasn’t sure what to call it. It was the primary riding animal on Selene, at least for the Halflances, and Aisha had tried to teach me how to ride one of them. The proper name was “Falt”, but honestly I think a better name would be “Gigantic terrifying rodent thing that should not be”. It was like a capybara with horns, and I am certain that the moment it laid its enormous grey slit pupils on me, Vivian wanted nothing more in the world than to swallow me whole. I’m also pretty sure Vivian was a male Falt, which raises entirely too many questions. Either way, it is a miracle that my disastrous first attempt at riding her didn’t lead to a more permanent injury.

“Yeah, thanks for the reminder…” I said, rubbing at my shoulder.

“Wait a second, what’s that you have there? It looks like an Archopolid tape, used even. What are you doing with one of those, and how did you get one, I’m pretty sure they’re proprietary.” Sir Margaret seemed to teleport forwards with how quickly she ran towards me. Before I knew it, she had a hand on my shoulder and was scanning the book on the table.

“It’s a book on Archopolid programming. Like I told Lady Halflance already, I knew how to work with computers on Earth, and some of the techniques carry over,” I said, vaguely gesturing at the papers in front of me.

“Mhmm…” said Sir Margaret, stroking her chin. “You can just call her Sarah, by the way. You’re basically family at this point anyhow.” I turned to Lady Halflance, who by this point had already pulled out her copy of Leseon.

“You may not.” I then turned back to Sir Margaret, who shrugged. 

“So what exactly are you studying programming for? I suppose every girl needs a hobby, but this seems rather odd all things considered,” Sir Margaret said.

“First of all I’m 24, stop calling me a girl,” I held up a finger to illustrate. “Second of all, it has to do with the Archopolid attack, at the party. Someone must have programmed it to do that, and I figure I can find some clues if I know what the instructions actually were.”

“That’s a good idea, actually. I think I took a couple years of programming in University, I could help.” I accepted the offer, and so Sir Margaret and I got embroiled in a lengthy discussion about the strange language of the ancient Archopolids. It was like no programming language I had ever encountered. It was almost organic in how it was structured, with unusual emphasis on certain functions, not to mention places where the code seemed like it had holes. Sir Margaret assured me that those were normal; apparently Archopolids come with many functions built into their systems, which is why they’re impossible to replicate. 

Eventually, the conversation came to a lull, as I had to stop to absorb what I had learned. Then I remembered what Anna had said a few days earlier. I didn’t want to pry into the Halflance’s affairs, but I also wanted to at least know why the family I was staying with was so widely reviled. 

“Lady Halflance, you said you have three kids, right? I’ve only seen two of them around the house.”

“Yes, I have three daughters,” said Lady Halflance, putting down her book. “You’ve met Norma, the youngest. Did you know that her eighth birthday was two weeks ago?”

“I didn’t,” I said.

“And I know you’ve met Felicia, because she was at that party. I’m honestly still thankful she didn’t get hurt, or worse. But go on, what were you saying?” said Sir Margaret.

“Who’s your third? I don’t think I’ve met her.” At that, Lady Halflance clenched her jaw. Sir Margaret glanced over at her wife, looking worried.

“Parker. Her name is Parker. She was always a problem child, and as soon as she could she ran off to gods know where.”

“We still keep in touch sometimes, though she doesn’t ever say much about what she’s actually doing. I think last we heard she was out East on some mission or another,” said Sir Margaret. Lady Halflance nodded.

“I believe she is studying geology, or hydrology or some such thing,” Lady Halflance said.

“What happened between you, that seems kind of extreme for her to just leave like that. Is there something else I should know about?” That was right up there among the dumbest things I have ever said, and I’m lucky I lived through it. Lady Halflance looked up at me with a burning glare and a grimace of anger.

“No there is not. Now if you have any relevant questions to ask me, please do so. Otherwise…” Just then, one of the manor servants burst into the room, obviously tired from haste.

“Lady Halflance, Sir Margaret. Miss Rook needs you immediately, out front. There’s some sort of disturbance going on!” With that, we all immediately stood up and rushed towards the front door of the manor.

…

Once we got outside, it became more clear what was going on. Miss Rook was standing at the head of a squad of guards, all with swords or revolvers drawn. They were arranged in a wedge formation, blocking the cobblestone path leading up to the front lawn of the estate. In front of them were four other people, though person may not have been the most accurate term for them.

They were all bulky, tall and broad, covered from head to toe in dark leather, with black cast-iron plates covering the chest, stomach, and parts of the arms and legs like some kind of armored animal. Their heads looked for all the world like an upturned bucket, thick solid metal plates riveted together, except with a pair of softly glowing lenses implanted into them. Sticking out of the back of the head were a pair of long antennae, like smaller versions of the radio receiver on a car. On their backs was mounted a large metal block, like a backpack except with smoke-bellowing exhaust pipes sticking out of the top. Probably the most important thing was what they were carrying in their hands: each one was holding a fireman’s axe, sharpened to a fine edge. That was scary.

“What is going on here?!” yelled Lady Halflance. We were still running up to the line of battle at that point, causing one or two of the guards to look over their shoulders in relief. Rook made a curt gesture, reminding them to keep their eyes on the enemy.

“I don’t know,” said Miss Rook, back to her refined accent, “They showed up a few minutes ago. The one in the middle asked for you.”

“Did she now? Very well then,” Lady Halflance turned towards one of the middle of the four metal things and crossed her arms. “What is it you have to say?” The metal woman turned to face Lady Halflance, her movements halting and jerky. One shoulder slumped, tilting the awkward bucket-head. Then a voice emerged from somewhere within the figure. It was obviously mechanical and tinny, like a low-quality telephone signal. It was also distorted, pitching up and down at random like someone was frantically messing around with the audio settings.

“Lady Sarah Halflance, at long last we meet! Your sins of hubris, vanity, and greed shall at long last be repaid. Prepare to face death!” said the machine.

“I am very aware of my sins, miss. Now who in the flying hell are you?” said Lady Halflance.

“My identity must remain a secret, for the sake of propriety,” she said. Suddenly, she stopped interrupted by a fit of coughing. “However, you may know me as Nemesis, bringer of retribution!” It was at this point where I was about done with this.

“Nemesis, really? First of all, you look less like a goddess and more like somebody duct-taped a trash can to a set of bagpipes. Second of all, if you want to kill us, could you please skip the stage play wannabe tryout and get to it?!” Total silence fell over the yard. Nemesis slowly turned her head with the sound of grinding gears.

“How brainless of you to assume that this is my true body. These are merely three of my loyal Mechanodrones, controlled from afar through the power of advanced E-rays! Speaking of control, Mechanodrones, attack protocols activate!” With that, the three Mechanodrones lurched forwards, and began readying their axes to swing. Three of them advanced unhesitantly at the guards, while the fourth one turned and began to brandish its axe at me.

My heart immediately leapt into action, frantically beating until it felt like it was going to escape. I was unarmed, while the steel-and-leather monstrosity coming towards me could probably cut my head off with a single movement. My body could barely respond, as thoughts of death and bloodshed and slaughter overran any sense of actual self-preservation. My head isn’t the best organ at actually keeping me alive, it seems. Eventually, I regained the presence of mind to stumble backwards a few steps. The Mechanodrone, or whatever the proper name for these things was, advanced steadily, gaining on me with long and precise strides. Then it started attacking.

The fire axe cut through the air with a whooshing sound, missing me by an inch as I frantically leapt back. Rook had been training me to dodge attacks, but my reflexes were still as poor as ever. It was only by giving up ground, gradually backing away, that I could hope to avoid the wide sweeping axe strikes. Things were going somewhat better with the guards. They unloaded their guns into the oncoming Mechanodrones, firing as fast as the mechanisms would allow, but the heavy iron plating was too thick for pistol bullets to penetrate. A few rounds found gaps in the armor, but the metal women were unfazed. A heavy overhead strike went my way, threatening to chop bones and sever limbs. I made a hasty sidestep, nearly tripping over my own feet as the axe cut off a bit of my sleeve before embedding itself in the grass. 

The two lines of battle crashed into each other, sword and knife against axe and armor. The guards were well-trained in the art of dueling, and had the advantage of numbers, but the Mechanodrones were hard to stop. They possessed incredible strength, swinging with brutal force and inhuman efficiency. Before long guards started going down with severed limbs and other gruesome injuries that I tried to not think about. I carefully watched the movements of the machine in front of me, beginning to realize how predictable it was. It cocked its arms back and to the side, giving me a moment of warning. I ducked into a crouch, the axe going harmlessly over me. Then I leapt forwards, rushing at the Mechanodrone to try and knock it over. I slammed into the thing with all of my might, bouncing harmlessly off of it due to basic physics because it weighed twice as much as me. Oops.

One of the Mechanodrones had finally gone down, having taken half a dozen stabbing strikes to the gaps in its armor. Easily three or four guards had fallen as well, and they were beginning to fall back around Lady Halflance. The count herself was still attempting to fight, snapping off shots with her heavy revolver, but it wasn’t going well. I was forced to scramble back, as the Mechanodrone struck at me again and again and again. 

“Emma, watch out!” said one of the guards. I turned to see what she was talking about. One of the Mechanodrones had hefted a body above its head. I didn’t have much of a chance to look at the victim, but I was fairly sure she was missing a few parts. My mind goes reeling at the sight, nausea welling up in my stomach as my heart nearly explodes. Then another moment passes, and the body is hurling my way. I dodge, or at least try to, but it’s too late. I got clipped across the arm by a hurled corpse, sending me spinning to the earth.

When I remembered how to see again, I was on the ground, on my back, looking up. I couldn’t move either. I mean, I suppose I could have, but I didn’t and my body wasn’t taking requests at the moment. The Mechanodrone was standing over me, still firmly gripping the axe. It raised its arms, preparing a vicious overhead. I couldn’t get out of the way. I was done.

But then it paused, motionless. It took me a second to realize why, because these things didn’t show hesitation. Someone had snuck up behind it and grabbed hold of the thing’s weapon. Miss Rook grimaced as the Mechanodrone pulled with all of its might, attempting to pull the axe out of her hands and finish me off. A high-pitched whine emerged from the Mechanodrone’s body, as thin smoke poured from its joints from the strain. Suddenly it sped up, movements far more fluid than before, as it twisted around to face Rook. The two grappled for a while, both trying to seize control, and it soon became clear that Rook had the upper hand. The Mechanodrone attempted a headbutt, only for Rook to dodge aside and land an elbow to the neck. Rook slammed her boot into the Mechanodrone’s knee joint, knocking it off balance. In a matter of seconds, she had it fully grappled. Then, with a roar of exertion, she threw it over her shoulder and onto the floor.

“How are you doing, kid?” said Rook, accent having relapsed again. She extended an arm to get me to my feet, an offer which I took.

“I mean I wet myself but otherwise totally fine,” I said. I can neither confirm nor deny the truth of this statement. 

“You’re going to want a weapon, I think,” said Rook. “And, well, Lucia here won’t be needing hers any time soon.” Once I was on my feet, she stepped over to the corpse that had been thrown my way, kneeling over it. I tried not to think about Lucia too much, especially not now that I knew her name. I focused on my breathing, like the therapist had told me to, at least until Rook offered me a saber. I took it, while she returned to the melee.

I walked over to the fallen Mechanodrone, placing my foot on its chest and pointing my sword down at it. I wasn’t quite sure where you could stab a machine to make it stop working, but I was definitely going to find out. I tensed my body to strike, and was about to stab down, when I noticed something. The head on the Mechanodrone wasn’t solid metal. There was a faceplate or visor or something like that, which had opened up slightly as it fell back. I stopped, a horrible idea coming into my head. It wasn’t possible, and yet I had to know. I leaned over, and pulled the visor up, with some resistance.

Under the visor was a woman’s face. She was dark-skinned, with a broad nose and dark brown eyes staring empty up at me. Her skin was drained, ashy, like she was low on blood. There was no emotion, no pain or fear, like she was asleep with her eyes open. I could have killed her right then, except I couldn’t have because I wouldn’t let myself.

“They’re people! The drones are people!” I screamed, stumbling back in shock. As I did so, the Mechanodrone began to shudder, awkwardly rising to her feet. In spite of her humanity, she was still ready to kill at the order of Nemesis. I held out my saber, trying to remember the correct fighting stance. It didn’t go very well.

She swung her axe at me, and I tried for a parry. The sheer force of her attack blew my sword aside like it was nothing, and I only avoided getting my arm cut off by stepping back at the last second. I tried a riposte, cutting at the neck, but I could barely hit her, I was so awkward. We continued like that for a few seconds, exchanging awkward and unskilled blows, neither of us really able to hurt the other. Then I remembered something, something Nemesis had said before. The Mechanodrones were controlled from afar, by something she called “E-rays”. Which meant that there must be some kind of receiver.

I waited, focusing in on the precise movements of her arms. With the weight of all that steel armor on her, I knew that I would be faster than she was. Then I found my moment. She swung wide, and slow. I ran to the side, throwing out a shoddy jab at her leg. She shifted out of the way, which gave me even more time to maneuver. And then I jumped on top of her. It was an incredibly stupid and reckless idea, but I was used to those. I ran in, leaping up as high as possible and wrapping my arm around her neck, holding myself as close as I could. Then, using my off hand because I’m bad at planning, I stabbed my saber right into the little contraption at the back of her neck. If the E-ray receiver was anywhere on the body, it was right there. 

It almost worked, with the point of the sword glancing off the edge of the box. I heard components breaking, right before an impossibly strong hand grabbed me by the leg and tossed me away. I landed hard on the ground, and for a second or two I could barely think from the pain. I shook my head to regain my senses. My saber was lying on the ground about a foot away. I crawled as fast as I could, grabbing at the hilt. Then I leapt to my feet, surveying the damage. The Mechanodrone was still standing. But something was different, it was beginning to sag and its movements were halting and awkward. 

“What’s that, Nemesis? Losing control? You know, maybe if you were actually good at planning or talking to people, you wouldn’t have to command all of your minions by remote control!” I said, faking a chuckle. I was mostly terrified, but the possibility that this plan would actually work was beginning to set in. Nemesis, meanwhile, was pissed. 

“Oh shut up!” said the distorted voice, before collapsing again into coughing. The Mechanodrone, movements suddenly fluid, charged forwards. I dodged aside, just as she suddenly seized up. Sparks were pouring from the receiver. I rushed forwards, careful to keep my sword at the ready. Then I swung. She tried to evade, but her movements dragged. I hit home, shattering the receiver with a strong sword cut. Instantly, the Mechanodrone froze, before collapsing. I stopped to catch my breath. Had I just won a sword duel? Or a sword-and-axe duel, I guess. I was pretty sure that cutting the radio signal counts as cheating by most definitions, but winning is winning, I guess. Then I remembered that there was something I still had to do. I walked over to the fallen Mechanodrone, still breathing heavily and moving unsteadily from the exertion of what i had just done. I reached down, putting my hand in front of her mouth. She was unconscious, but still breathing. I hadn’t killed anyone.

The fight was nearing its end with the others as well. Another one of the Mechanodrones was down, how I don’t know, and the other was on her back legs. She was taking hit after hit, and having to rely on her armor to stay up. While I watched, still trying to regain my breath, she went down. Two of the guards engaged the Mechanodrone in melee, swords whirling back and forth in an attempt to find the gaps in the armor. Miss Rook slipped around the group, flanking her opponent. Then, with a swift sweep of the legs, the Mechanodrone went down. 

“They’re people! I don’t know what she did to them, but they’re people!” I said. I tried to yell but my lungs were still on fire. Lady Halflance stepped forwards, planting her foot firmly on the chest of the Mechanodrone, revolver in hand. She gripped the barrel of the revolver, breaking it open, and began carefully loading shells from the hip pocket of her dark gray overcoat.

“Now listen here Nemesis. You’re far from the first woman who has tried to kill me because of whatever sins they think I have committed. If I can give you some advice, it would be this: you’re going to need a hell of a lot more than this to take down a woman like me.” With that, she closed the chamber of her gun. As I realized what he was about to do, I tried to run in, to do something. Lady Halflance leaned over, yanking up the faceplate. 

“No, stop, she’s human! Don’t do this!” I screamed as loudly as I could. Lady Halflance glanced up at me, before turning back to the woman below her.

“Nulla Captivis!” she shouted. With a crash of noise and a flash of light, she fired the revolver, once, twice, three times. I stopped running. I couldn’t even speak, let alone think. She had to have seen the woman’s face beneath the visor, right? And yet, she killed her anyway. A woman was dead now, and Lady Halflance knew it. I had to sit down, and I did so, hugging my knees to my chest on the grassy lawn. For a few seconds, the only sound was heavy breathing as everyone involved tried to regain their breath. Then, another woman showed up, jogging across the field towards the rest of us.

She was wearing a long white doctor’s coat, and holding an equally stereotypical clasp bag in one hand. She was tall and skinny, with close-cropped blonde hair. Her skin looked weird, like she was sick or something, but I didn’t really pay attention. Lady Halflance showed her over to the fallen guards, and she started pulling stuff out of her bag. 

I curled up further into myself, covering my eyes with my hands. The image of Lady Halflance standing over that defenseless woman was still burned into my head, the gunshot sounds echoing as if she had never stopped firing. Though it has only been a few days, I had started seeing Lady Halflance as some kind of benefactor, if not the kindest of individuals. Evidently I had been wrong, as the snuff film playing on a loop in my head was telling me. I started to feel sick to my stomach, as old memories started to bleed into my consciousness as well.

“Thank you, Doctor Charcharias. There are a couple of others over there as well, check on them,” said Lady Halflance. I smiled darkly, realizing that that was the first time I had ever heard the Lady thank someone. It made sense, given how little she cared about her fellow man. Or fellow woman, rather.

“Hey, are you doing okay?” she said. I looked up from my own knees, to see the doctor from earlier, Dr. Charcharias, kneeling down in front of me. She had rounded features, with a broad shallow nose and dark blue eyes. Her skin was indeed oddly colored, a shade best described as grey trying very hard to be blue, and completely hairless.

“Are you a dolphin?” I said, still distracted by my thoughts. In hindsight, I’m not sure if the good Doctor being a marine mammal would have shocked me anyway, but I was definitely not in the mental state to question anything happening around me.

“Technically I’m a shark, it’s a kind of cartilaginous fish.”

“Why are you a shark, exactly? I mumbled.

“Well that’s a long story, one that begins in the far distant city of Zander. My second mother was a sailor, on shore leave from her duties in the First Secession War, when across from her at the bar she saw the most beautiful great white…” she said. I turned away, sighing. I couldn’t understand why she had to shoot the Mechanodrone. Her opponent had been defenseless, on the ground, totally neutralized. Why?

“Dr. Charcharias, now is not the time for humor. She has just faced her first real fight since her illness,” said Lady Halflance, helping a guardswoman with a broken leg get back to her feet. Dr. Charcharias winced.

“Sorry kid, force of habit. Now let me take a look at you, make sure you aren’t going to keel over in the next five minutes at least.” she started examining me, front and back, and I went with her as much as I could.

“Thanks for trying…” I said under my breath. I wasn’t sure if she heard me or not. A minute later, Dr. Charcharias stood back up, turning to Lady Halflance and saying:

“She’s perfectly fine, didn’t take any injuries. You said this is her first fight? Well she’s either lucky or a very fast learner.” 

“You had better take a look at her, as well,” said Sir Margaret, pointing towards the still-living Mechanodrone who had been dueling me. “I’m not sure what was done to her, but I imagine it can’t be good, all things considered.” Dr. Charcharias followed Margaret’s finger, her eyes going wide when she saw the Mechanodrone. She dashed over, nearly skidding to a stop against the side of the Mechanodrone. She ran her hands over the leather and steel, trying to find some kind of medical information, before settling on the open faceplate. A few seconds passed while she did what examination she could. I was watching as well; I needed to know that at least this one would be all right. 

“She’s in bad shape, looks really sick, light pulse and a fever. We need an ambulance, immediately,” she said, turning to Sir Margaret. Sir Margaret nodded and ran off to some of the staff who had been looking at this whole fiasco with shock, sending one of them off to the hospital. With that bit of assurance that at least I had managed to do some good, I was able to gather up the willpower to get back to my feet.

I stumbled back to the manor, head held low. Apparently I had been staying with a murderer all this time. Just my luck, huh. The image of her firing her shots started to come back in, but I forced it out. I instead started thinking about Dr. Charcharias. I really needed to figure out what was up with the shark thing. I resolved to ask her the next day, or whenever I was feeling better. I returned to the manor, found the first couch I could, and collapsed into sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Authors Note: So hey, remember when I said I would be trying for a once-a-week upload schedule? Yeah that's not going to happen, at least not consistently. I am however going to try to stick with uploading only on Thursdays, so you can check to see if there's been a new chapter on those days. Thank you all so much for reading, commenting, rating, favorite-ing, and all of that. If you have any questions, leave them in the comments and I'll answer them assuming it isn't a spoiler. That's all for now, so I hope you enjoyed the chapter!