To find the robotic Caesar, they had to work their way through the sea of throwbacks.Their actions -- or inactions -- might alarm suspicions, especially with those maddened outcasts with enough rational power left to notice.So to evade wandering eyes, the large cat found a mangled piece of steel, covered it with discarded rags and, with the aid of a car fire, set it ablaze.He urged the young lion to follow close to him --
Kara had hid behind a pillar of steel, fifty feet in diameter.Looming above was the inconceivably-gigantic base of a tall, sky scraper, trickling frozen drops of rain fell from its gray and black edifice.He blinked and shook his head -- Pumalo stood behind him with the torch.
Wordlessly they moved on, deeper and deeper, the air thrashing their manes in cold and hot streams -- horrors, unthinkable to the world of light, were carried out openly and unrestrained in the streets.
Apartment buildings, that had not been completely evacuated, were ransacked and trampled, wailing tenants on the roof fighting back the throwbacks.The people were taken aback in fear just by the faces of the mob -- many they had never seen such horrid features.Metropolis had long sheltered its people from the grim reality of the subterranean slaves -- and those that had been to the depths held the firm beliefs of the popular myths, that the deformed workers were blood-thirsty cannibals, that their larger bodies were proof of their violent potential and that their heads reflected their animalistic character.It was understandable that centuries of ingrained ignorance led the unlucky citizens to jump out of windows and balconies.
Humans were either beaten up or allowed to flee.Thunderians, their feline brethren, their perceived masters, were the ones made to suffer.
Trains that had stopped were derailed and looted.Cars were stacked up-side-down, smashed and battered.Homes and businesses alike were broken into and set ablaze.Sirens and flashing alarms signaled the progress of the worker’s rebellion.
Explosions rang from below -- the ground broke apart.Bridges swayed violently to the gentlest breeze -- their steel cables snapped and their imposing spans collapsed and sunk beneath the earth.A dense cloud of powdered rock and cement clung suspended to the immediate scene.
It was terrifying and the two were shocked numb to see what their kind was capable of.Were the throwbacks were no different from the brutal taskmasters and foremen who controlled their destinies for millennia?How could they appeal for justice now?How could they convince the world that they were peaceful, benevolent now?
The lion clutched the puma’s arm.
At last they came upon the object of their mission, the cyborg double, the spider at the web’s center, that with a push or pull in any direction sent chains of events unfolding from one end of the mob to another.They ducked behind a pile of rubble and looked on as the machine pointed to groups and told them what to do with loud shouts and frenzied gestures.The cats around it picked it up and carried it around on their shoulders.
“I’ve got an idea,” he told Pumalo.“If it recognizes us then, if it sees us, it’ll order the others to get us --“
The large cat put down the torch and mulled over the fragmented plan.“I’m don’t know, cub, we’re surrounded.”
“We’d have to act with caution.And when we run to the hospital and the real Caesar, we can’t be too fast that they lose us, just fast enough that they can’t catch us.”
The puma took a deep breath and nodded.“You’re right, we can’t reason with them, but we’ll need a back-up plan if the crowds get too thick.”
“We’ll have to find an entrance to the underworld.”A shout distracted him but it quickly faded without follow-through. “We’ll get past this, you’ll see, we’ll survive.”
He smiled and grabbed the teenager in a tight hug.“You’re a great friend,” he said, “I want you to know that.”
The lion let his hold linger for a few moments more.He had gotten to know the throwback better than his own father and he so desperately wanted to enjoy his company as long as possible.With a sigh he let go.“Come on.”
The he-cat helped him to his feet and stood at his side.He and the youth emerged from the hiding spot to the rear of the small group of body guards that carried the robot on their backs.The two ran past the troupe, overtook them and stopped to show their faces to the cyborg -- a flash of red eyes fell upon them with their look of lifeless, mechanical nothingness.
The throwbacks who had long served demonic machines now served a mechanical god.
“You’re no Caesar,” Kara shouted into his hands, “you’re not even a man!”
It’s eyes widened -- the group stopped, growled and shouted back:“Kill the traitors!”
The cyborg eased itself down from the lofty heights of its admirers’ shoulders and sprinted forward as if to lead the charge.
“That’s our cue,” Pumalo said, “RUN!”
The mad dash was not the controlled, paced chase that the youngster had had in mind.Fear and adrenaline had had its effect on their sense of reason and judgment.Sometimes Kara was in the lead, sometimes Pumalo caught up.They swerved around crowds, turned past corners, raced across wide boulevards and through avenues littered with flaming tar and melting glass -- all the while the shouts of ‘kill them kill them’ hard on the heels.
The young lion turned his head back for a moment.The human-esque machine had outraced its bodyguards.It was enraged, visibly angered.Could it feel?Could it think?Did it matter, he thought and concluded at once that nothing mattered.To it, life and death were as dry and as sterile as the binary code at the root of its silicone brain.
Three, sleek planes scorched through the air at near supersonic speeds.The black, unmarked fighters hugged the low streets and everyone, everywhere stopped and looked up.Hearing the roaring echoes, they, too, stopped and ducked for cover in the open hallway of an abandoned high-rise.They huddled in the darkness of the passage and looked out -- the Caesar robot stood in the middle of the road, shaking its fists at the approaching planes.
But the war-vehicles were not only there to take a panoramic view of the chaos -- they had located and honed their targets and fired.Broken, shattered brick façades, decrepit beyond bearing, fell to the sidewalks and formed smoking piles of rubbish.Holes were pummeled into the streets, the gunfire’s impact shattered the pavement and blew vehicles apart.
Having no regard for the value of life, at the end the machine had no conception of its own existence.Unable to reason beyond its programming, it commanded the retreating and horrified throwbacks to fight the airplanes.It looked about, angered, unaware that had been shot until a further spray of bullets knocked it to the ground.It got back up, despite the bleeding and otherwise fatal wounds -- the onlookers who witnesses gasped in utter confusion.
The last two planes plowed up the street but instead of shooting off bullets they lit up the scene with red, glowing beams of light.
“Get back, Pumalo,” the lion grabbed the large cat by the waist and dragged him deeper into the darkness.The main passage connected to stairs and to a side hall that ran perpendicular to the main entrance.“It’s a laser ray,” he explained.
The two remained near the jagged edge of the corridor -- the reddish tint of the heat weapon inched up the stairs and kept away from them, much to their relief.
Kara turned back from the hot hair that seeped into the building.He saw a door, open to the interior of a ransacked apartment.In the recesses of the large, inner room were throwback children, huddled with their mothers, sobbing and crying.Despite the shadows he gauged much about the mysterious females.Smaller in stature than the males, they were in many ways no different from the acceptable Thunderians he had known all his life -- except that their heads were slightly larger in proportion to their bodies.No -- it was an illusion, brought about by their ancient features.
An eternity passed but in time the roaring sounds ceased.
Pumalo crawled out of the passage and Kara followed his friend.The planes had passed but the damage they had caused lingered.The workers who had not fled for cover lay on the road, reduced to flaming, charred skeletons or piles of ash that emanated smoke.Still others had not completely died -- the great heat had either vaporized parts of their bodies or melted them into the tar of the pavement, their screams and wails pierced the still atmosphere of the cavernous towers.
But the robot -- slowly, gradually, the rioters that had survived came out to see that Caesar -- what they thought was Caesar -- was skinless except for the face, but even that mask of flesh fell to the ground, consumed by fire.Unveiled before them was the skeletal frame of the mechanical cyborg.Flames had spread to its wiring and its internal parts deformed in the heat.It tried to stand but, so thoroughly destroyed, it collapsed, no more than a rejected pile of metal shards.
Cries of terror bellowed through the mob --
Kara sighed in relief -- it was over, it -- he thought back.He had seen a dark shadow fallow Caesar but he had paid it no attention.“Pumalo,” he said, turning his face up to the large cat.
The puma scratched his head.
“Oh, no,” he looked at the shocked and subdued mob, “CAESAR!” he screamed an ran up the smoky, brittle sidewalk.
“Kara, wait!” the puma shouted, struggling to catch up.
To be Continued
And civilization goes up in flames with the robots! Main page.