“No—” Code was cut off by a fast-tightening cord wrapped around his chest. He struggled frantically, but each movement only trapped him more. A flurry of small threadlike tentacles reached for his mouth, prying open his sealed lips and grasping his tongue and jaw. Against his will, Code was forced to speak: “We. Are. Code. Imm— Immortalis.”
“That’s better,” said Immortalis. “Your body is young. In my embrace you will live many thousands of years. We will rule this world and many others. With the Robonomicon, our power will be limitless.”
Peep shivered in Code’s palm, terrified. Unable to move his head, Code rolled his eyes to see her. The coils were too strong to resist. Immortalis was ancient and confident, unstoppable. Code could already imagine his future, bleak and inevitable. He was to be a puppet, forced to ride along as Immortalis corrupted Mekhos and more, committing crime after unthinkable crime. He simply could not think of anything more to do. Maybe, thought Code, it’s finally time that I just do nothing.
As if sensing Code’s despair, Immortalis relaxed its grip.
“Yes,” it purred. “There is no escape. Give her to me.”
Code raised his clenched fist upward and slowly opened his palm. For one split second, Peep stood exposed and unprotected. She looked at Code, uncomprehending. The most powerful artifact in all of Mekhos sat completely vulnerable in Code’s pale, quivering palm.
“I’m sorry, Peep, but I’ve had enough,” said Code. Staring defiantly into the sapphire eye of Immortalis, he said, “You can have her, Immortalis—but you’ll have to kill me first!”
Roaring in anger, Immortalis sent a flurry of manipulator tentacles dashing toward the little winged robot. And then Code did something unexpected—he stuffed Peep into his mouth and swallowed her whole. It was the only way he could think of to protect her.
Immortalis stopped. Its azure eye blinked, puzzled. Then a cascade of tentacles crashed against its frame, creating a loud and long wail of fury.
The hovering machine folded Code’s body into the center of its oval frame and yanked his arms and legs until they were fully outstretched. More tentacles wrapped around his torso and writhed back and forth, squeezing, grinding, crushing. Code dangled spread-eagle, suspended and helpless as the machine’s infinite tentacles encircled his arms, legs, fingers, and face.
“I will tear you to pieces. My many arms will sift through your guts until I find her,” the machine threatened. “When I have the Robonomicon, you will be dead and I will rule this ruined world, forever and ever and ever. And one day, another human will come through the rift and I will be free.”
Against his will, Code’s arms were forced into a dance posture. The flying machine began to waltz through the air over the destroyed landscape, moving Code’s arms and legs in a gross parody of a dance. Covered in black wires, Code could only grunt in frustration as the machine forced him through the motions.
But a silent battle raged inside of Code’s body and mind.
Code had swallowed the Robonomicon. Although he had no idea, Peep was much more than a simple flying robot. With all the knowledge of Mekhos at her disposal, she was a wise and powerful queen.
Peep had never before explored the interior landscape of a human body, but she was a fast learner. Within a few beats of Code’s heart, she had spread herself to every part of his body. Atom by atom, Peep converted Code’s organic body into inorganic material.
In a matter of seconds, Code’s transformation into a citizen of Mekhos was complete. Peep had replaced every atom of Code’s body. And although he looked the same, Code found that he was no longer human.
Code took a gasping, shuddering breath and pulled his arms down to his sides. Motors squealed as Immortalis strained against Code’s newfound strength. Immortalis blinked its blue eye once. Then twice. Processing.
Code’s shoes began to dissolve and disappear.
Immortalis made an alarmed screech. It retracted its tentacles and dropped Code like a poisonous snake. Code cartwheeled through the air, smashed to the ground, and plunged several feet into solid stone. He rolled onto his back. The rock melted wherever he touched it. His flickering gray green eyes opened and they stared straight up, unseeing.
Code felt the strangest tickling sensation all through his body. He could feel the stone around him being broken down at an atomic level and pulled into his skin. Castle walls, he thought. Peep is using the rock to build castle walls inside me.
Immortalis hurled a wicked-looking primary harpoon tentacle toward Code. Before it could connect, Code’s skin solidified into a hexagon of solid, glinting stone. The tip of the tentacle hit the stone and shattered in a spray of rock dust and sparks.
Immortalis screeched in pain and retracted its mangled tentacle. The machine bellowed angrily. Thousands of tentacles peeled away from the black frame: tree-trunk-thick primaries, whiplike secondaries, and toothy tertiaries, armed with all manner of weapons, dripping with poisons, and humming with energy. The metallic tentacles rose in all directions, writhing in anticipation of all-out attack.
“Cower!” boomed Immortalis. “Beg for mercy.”
Code stood up. The small, pale boy walked unsteadily toward the hovering monster. Each step he took left a deep footprint in the rocky ground. Somehow, Peep was absorbing everything Code touched and using it to build armor. He felt strong and full of potential, almost invincible.
Without hesitation, Immortalis unleashed a storm of tentacles. Searing energy bursts showered over Code as thick attack cables with flexing razors and spinning blades burst into flames upon touching his skin. With a wave of his hand, Code severed the Mainline thrust cable as it swung toward his head like an out-of-control crane. Every surface of Code’s body sprayed dust and energy and heat as the tentacles crashed against him again and again.
Four primary tentacles snaked low over the ground and snatched Code by the legs, sweeping him into the air. Without access to the stone underfoot, Code’s armor began to weaken. Hundreds, then thousands of tentacles crashed and broke against Code’s body, like waves on a shore. At last, one serrated-blade tentacle sliced a deep gash in Code’s face and he began to bleed. Immortalis cackled in delight and waved its few remaining tentacles in victory as blood dripped down Code’s face.
“The human is broken! Mastered! My puppet forever!” howled Immortalis. The machine tilted and floated in a slow circle. It held Code suspended overhead, looking up at him with a sapphire eye that glowed white blue with triumph.
Code looked down at Immortalis sadly, drops of his blood pattering down onto the machine.
“I’m sorry for you,” said Code, for he understood his sudden surge of strength. Like the kings and queens of Mekhos before him, Code had made a transformation. He and Peep were one and the same now.
The blood dripping from Code’s wounds was no longer human. Peep had spread throughout Code’s body and defended it and made it strong—and she was in his blood now. Code thought of his own narrow escape from the inky black pool of nanobots in the Nanoscopic Traverse as he watched his blood spatter onto Immortalis.
Suddenly, the machine cried out in confusion and fright as each drop of blood dissolved through its tentacles, warping its frame. The toxic blood spread over Immortalis, eating through its skin like acid. The beastly machine was unable to comprehend how a defenseless little boy could have dealt such a devastating blow.
Trailing smoke, Immortalis dropped from the sky. Foul vapor poured from the machine as it smashed onto the plain, hugging Code’s body in a death embrace. Its panicked screams soon diminished, reduced to the random beating of tentacles spasming against the ground. Code’s body was swallowed by the wreckage of the machine. For long moments, nothing moved.
Finally, Code crawled out of the smoking crater. There was nothing left of Immortalis but its lone blue eye and several tiny vibrating tentacles, like harmless bird feathers. As the sapphire eye faltered, faded, and blinked, the delicate appendages tapped out a last message: “Error. Error. Err—”
br />
20
Reset
Code looked at the annihilated surface of Mekhos and saw only a primordial sea of wreckage swirling in a formless, meaningless void. Billowing clouds of atomized matter blocked the rays of the sun and moon. Nothing changed, nothing lived, and nothing died. Mekhos was gone.
The only trace of the robots that had once lived here were now trapped inside Code’s body—a part of him. It’s finally happened, he thought. I’ve gone all the way and become one of them. Code looked at the strange shimmering skin of his hands. I’m the last robot left in Mekhos, he thought sadly. And now I can never go home.
But in his heart, Code still wondered if something, somewhere, might still live. Maybe deep down in the crushing depths of the sea, or above in the highest stratosphere of the air?
He walked to the edge of the island. The sea below frothed and boiled in confusion. Code thought about swimming. With a little concentration, he found that he was able to convince his body to transform. His legs quivered, then fused together and extended into a long silver tail. Code pulled his arms in close to his body until they melded into his skin. His elbows flattened and collapsed into the shape of wide, powerful fins. The transformation complete, he allowed himself to fall into the frothing ocean below.
Once in the water, Code’s body rearranged itself until he could not feel the numbing coldness or the crushing pressure. His eyes grew to the size of saucers, until he could see for miles in utter darkness. He felt no need to take just one shape and so he adopted whichever one worked best. But search as he might, Code found nothing in the fathomless depths. Not a single creature, large or small, stirred in the deep. The black water was empty and devoid of life.
Rising from the water, Code leaped into the sky and arched his back, sprouting a pair of great shining wings. Flapping his nearly translucent metal wings, he searched for life in the skies. But as he swooped through the heavens, he saw only the cold light of the moon playing out random, senseless patterns on the shattered wreckage of Mekhos. Code sped through misty clouds and dove through crystal clear skies. But no creatures had survived to fly in the air, either.
Code was heartbroken. The robots had really done it. They had managed to completely remove themselves from the world. All the trees and the castles and rocks had been vaporized. From the tiniest microrobots to the biggest brontobots, all life had disappeared.
And the reality of Code’s solitude began to set in.
The world was empty. The seas had boiled. The Odd Woods were disintegrated. Clockwork City was obliterated. All inhabitants of the land had been eradicated: the impatient, endless infinipede; the angry robot giants in their crystalline castles; the hungry Toparian mowers; the countless tiny peoples of the arid Nanoscopic Traverse; Charlie, the greatest robot hero in Mekhos; and the pompous Lady Watterly and her chatty guests. Even Gary and Peep had met their ends. They were all gone. Destroyed forever.
Code rose higher and higher in the air, trying to escape from the loneliness that haunted the ghost world below. The rising sun painted a crescent of dawn along the eastern curve of the world. Floating above the devastation, in darkness and ruin, Code felt an overwhelming sadness.
And as he thought about his friends and the places he had seen and the adventures they’d had together, Code’s nose began to sting, his cheeks turned red, and his lip began to quiver.
And since there was nobody around to see or hear, he began to cry.
A drop of liquid coursed down his cheek and dangled from his jawline. After a moment, it fell. The wind whipped that single tear into innumerable invisible droplets and spread those specks of moisture over many miles. Those millions of water molecules landed randomly on the rich primordial soil of Mekhos.
And something interesting began to happen.
Where each tear landed, the ground began to move. Each drop was filled with the memory of cities, nations, and kingdoms of robots. And everywhere they landed, the tears began to convert the raw clay of the nothing into … something. Within seconds, all across Mekhos, magnificent creatures—titans—began to rise up from the ground. Huge and not very bright, the titans rose up and looked into the sky, where Code hung like a shining star. They saw that much work needed to be done.
Code thought about what his grandfather had said: Finish it, and begin again.
And as Code watched these mountain-sized beings emerging from the smoke and ash below, a spark of hope flared in his chest. He found that when he thought about it, he knew the true name of every robot, large and small, in all of Mekhos.
As the titans set to work, Code began to recite each robot’s name. He found that each name came out as a command, and the titans obeyed, using their rough, colossal hands to mold those creatures from dust. The titans worked ceaselessly, and over the course of their lifetimes a familiar bunch of robots crawled, leaped, and slithered once again into Mekhos. The skies, lands, and depths of the seas were soon teeming again with flying robot insects, shambling giants, and armor-plated whales.
Mekhos erupted into life and activity. Hours later, an arc of light shot up from the ground directly below Code. A string of self-replicating nanobots raced upward, re-creating the Beamstalk as they went. At the top of the string, a swirling cloud of nanobots formed itself into a castle-shaped mist that solidified into the seat of royal power—the Celestial City.
As he uttered each name, Code felt his power diminish. Eventually, his wings shrank and then faded away, and his small body floated down onto the vast promenade of the Celestial City. Behind him, a soft red carpet rolled over the cobblestone courtyard, leading across the plaza and up a wide staircase, ending at the foot of a towering silver throne.
Below, Mekhos was once again filled with everyday robots of all shapes and sizes, along with their Clockwork Cities and leaping transpeds and hologrammatic art and alien treasures.
And finally, the mighty titans collapsed in exhaustion, having finished their great tasks. A sand titan crashed to the ground and exploded into billions of nanoparticles, becoming the desert of the Nanoscopic Traverse; a tree titan lay down quietly and died, letting his rich corpse feed the verdant plants of the Toparian Wyldes; and a rock titan fell down and passed on, whereupon his bones became the crystalline castles of the robot giants.
It was done.
Mekhos was born anew. It spread as high as the wind blew and as deep as the ocean currents ran. Code uttered one final name and felt the last of the Robonomicon’s power ebb. His bare feet touched down on the cool stones of the viewing promenade. At last, Code Lightfall returned to being a regular boy. He collapsed onto the ground and drifted into the deepest sleep of his young life.
Just then, the ground beneath Code’s sleeping body stirred and rumbled. A long, low chuckle echoed from the empty courtyard, and a razor-sharp spiked fist burst up out of the ground, spraying cobblestones. The fist was attached to an even bigger atomic slaughterbot. Gary rose to his feet and looked around. He looked the same as before the Disassembly, only now he was protected by shining white armor, and a majestic golden cape was slung over one hulking shoulder. Gary had been deactivated as a common slaughterbot and had returned as a royal knight.
When Gary saw his friend Code lying on the ground, he heaved a sad sigh and began to dig a boy-sized grave. But after a moment, he remembered a strange fact about how human beings often go unconscious. So he stopped digging, gently lifted the boy from the ground, and climbed the steps to the silver throne. Then he laid his sleeping friend onto the cushioned seat of royal power.
From inside the Celestial City, a distinguished group of robots solemnly walked into the courtyard. They wore splendid robes of white mesh and glowed with energy and power. Joining Gary, they formed a semicircle around the sleeping boy on the throne. In hushed tones, the robots began to discuss Code’s fate.
“I propose we make him our king,” said Lady Watterly. With extreme poise, she raised one arm, adding, “I shall teach him the necessary manners.”
An elder
ly little robot repositioned its cracked spectacles. “Eh?! We need him full-time at the fabrication tank. The boy has a talent for making top-notch robots.”
Gary blushed.
“Well, then who’s going to judge our art contests?” demanded a crewbot wearing an immaculate sailor’s outfit.
The group of robots burst into a heated discussion, full of interruptions, accusations, and disruptions. Two mowers yapped at each other and a robot giant bellowed loudly, as an infinipede ran around everyone in circles—unable to stop.
Finally, a deep voice rang out.
“Enough!” thundered Gary. The other robots fell silent.
“Code journeyed across Mekhos for us. He battled Immortalis for us. And he survived the destruction of our world for us. When he could have given in to despair, Code fought on. For us. It is only fair that he should return home to his own world, while he still can. And if our friend Code Lightfall ever wishes to return to Mekhos, then we will see him again.”
The other robots nodded to each other in agreement. Under the clear white starlight, they gathered shoulder to shoulder and watched over the sleeping boy. The decision had been made. And with that, Gary sat down on the steps to wait patiently for his dear friend to wake up.
21
Homecoming
With a start, Code opened his eyes. He was on his back, surrounded by tall tufts of grass. Sunlight filtered through oak trees overhead, dazzling his eyes. Something was very strange about this place. The leaves were … moving. A breeze blew cool across his face, and Code felt the tickle of soft grass on his neck. Real grass.
This isn’t right, he thought. Unless …
Afraid to look, Code sat up. He was on Mek Mound. The storm had passed and the skies were clear. In the distance, he saw the bright yellow of the school bus. He could hear the other students talking to each other farther down the hill. Mr. Mefford was asking for their worksheets.
Oh, no, he thought. It couldn’t have been a dream.