Code Lightfall and the Robot King (10 page)

With one carefully placed fingertip, Gary pushed Code's mouth closed. “Looks like we found the Beamstalk, little buddy,” he said, grinning.

15
Beamstalk

The Great Disassembly:
T–Minus Three Hours

When the water strider reached the end of the Mercurial River, it docked in the shadow of the mile-high, jet-black Monolith Building. Anchored to the building's roof, the Beamstalk soared away into the sky overhead. Code and Gary carefully tiptoed down a narrow gangway that soared over the frothy sea below and ended in a cobblestone courtyard at the base of the Monolith. Grooves in the sides of the majestic building contained elevators crowded with last-minute robot sightseers. The mood seemed bright and cheery—considering what was about to happen.

Following the crowd, Code and Gary crammed into one of the larger elevators, and Code felt his stomach lurch as they rocketed up the side of the building.

The roof of the Monolith Building was made of flat black stones with a large curved depression in the middle. From the bowl-shaped divot, a ribbon of pure light shot up into the sky—the Beamstalk. Up close, the shimmering cord of light was beautiful, humming with energy and radiating a dull, dry heat.

“Easy,” said Code.

Gary smiled.

Thirty minutes later, Code stalked back and forth with a red-glowing Peep fidgeting on his shoulder. Gary stood guard. Impatiently, Code threw his head back and stared straight up, nearly losing his balance and falling down. The Beamstalk speared into the clear blue sky and veered away into the atmosphere. According to the infinipede, the Robonomicon was being held captive somewhere above, in the Celestial City. But there was no way to climb the razor-thin beam.

Squinting, Code zoomed in with his robo-retinas. Floating high above, at the top of the Beamstalk, was a winking point of light—the city. On maximum zoom, Code could perceive far more detail: the city was a splendid confusion of turrets, towers, and walls protected under a translucent dome, all of it tethered to Mekhos by the superstrong Beamstalk.

Code stopped pacing.

Up above, a plate-shaped platform had appeared. It was descending smoothly down the Beamstalk at an incredible speed. Code thought he could make out a pair of industrial-sized arms sprouting from the sides of the platform; they spewed steam and waves of heat as they gripped the beam tightly, lowering the whole platform hand over hand. Peep twittered in anticipation.

As the platform approached, Code knew what he had to do. “We're going to have to hijack that robot lifter,” he said to Gary.

Gary grunted in assent, watching the platform drop closer.

“It will probably be well protected,” added Code.

Peep crouched on Code's shoulder and shook her rear end fiercely.

Gary folded his arms across his chest and nodded. “We can fight our way on board in ferocious hand-to-hand combat, disable all the terrifying guardbots, and then skyjack the whole mamma jamma.” Gary cocked his finger cannons one by one. “If brute force is the only thing they understand, then brute force is what they'll get.”

Code watched Gary skeptically as the heavy robot hopped around and shook his arms like a boxer getting ready to brawl. After the battle with XO, he doubted whether Gary was really in fighting condition.
I'm going to have to protect him
, thought Code. Despite all those tons of armor, poor Gary was pretty defenseless.

Seconds later, the platform glided to within a few dozen feet of the roof. With a couple more handholds, the spindly robot arms lowered the domed contraption snugly into its dock. It looked like a huge dinner tray at a fancy restaurant. A semicircular door hissed as its seals cracked open. Clouds of vapor poured out along the ground. Bright interior lights silhouetted the looming form of a robot. This was it—the moment of attack!

“Here we go!” roared Gary, powering up his cannons.

Little Peep ducked and weaved through the air near Code, glowing a savage red. The fog-enshrouded robot stepped off the platform and emerged into the light. Gary and Code lunged forward, then stopped.

Before them was a tall, proud-looking butlerbot, dressed in an immaculate black suit. The creature stood upright on two long, impossibly thin legs. In a snooty voice, he made an announcement: “Attention. Lady Watterly's evening voyage to the Celestial City is about to board. We will be pleased to serve dinner to our guests. Tonight's appetizer is oil of vitriol, followed by an entrée of broiled circuit board and a dessert of light-emitting doodlebug soufflé. Our descent will return everyone just in time for the Disassembly, which will take place on the plains surrounding the Monolith Building. So, please, join us for your final evening on Mekhos. Welcome aboard. We hope you enjoy your last meal.”

Code and Gary looked at each other—this was going to be far easier than they had thought. Peep landed on Code's shoulder, settling down to a pale green color.

With two sharp claps, the butler summoned several small serverbots, which ushered Code and Gary inside. The room was a dome with clear walls, dominated by a monumental dinner table surrounded by high-backed chairs. The places were immaculately set, with so many forks and spoons and plates and cups and goblets and napkins that Code couldn't begin to imagine which piece of silverware would be the right one to start with. Then Code frowned, noticing that there were also forceps, scissors, magnifying glasses, nippers, tweezers, tongs, pliers, pincers, clips, and clamps.

Plus, one red-hot soldering iron.

Code and Gary mingled with a dozen or so chubby ladybots who had wheeled over from the HMS
Affectacious
. They towered above Code, wearing ostentatious monocles, shaggy blue wigs, and cosmetic upgrades—from tight, spot-welded mouths and cheeks to whole sets of sleek new arms attached to old, beaten-up frames. The oversized, overdressed ladybots glided around silently on well-oiled tank treads, but talked and laughed so loudly that Code's voice couldn't break through the din.

Then the doors snapped shut and the whole platform began a gut-wrenching ascent as the piston-driven arms outside grabbed hold of the Beamstalk and hoisted the platform higher and higher. Code glanced out the domed window and down at Mekhos.

What he saw was awe-inspiring. The sun was setting, but the landscape below buzzed with activity. Code saw immense creatures running across the landscape, sending up clouds of dust and wearing dirt paths into the ground. Code then zoomed his eyes onto one of the largest creatures: a mechanical brontosaurus the size of a football stadium, its broad back loaded with cargo. Meanwhile, thousands of cannon-launched robots landed on giant trampolines, bouncing gleefully to safe landings. The entire population of Mekhos was gathering below, industriously preparing for the end.

Peep made a sad chirp.

None of these robots seem upset about the Disassembly
, thought Code. Why didn't they try to fight? This whole world was an experiment gone out of control, he reminded himself. And every experiment had to end eventually. It was in every bot's nature to accept its programming. But it wasn't fair. The experiment had ended a long time ago. The original people who built this place were long gone. Immortalis was destroying Mekhos just to reopen the rifts and escape to Earth.

It's up to me
, thought Code.
I'm the only one who can save this place now.

Feeling the reassuring tug of the arms outside lifting the platform up the Beamstalk, Code found his chair and climbed onto it. He stood on his chair and leaned his elbows on the enormous table. The ladybots—wearing all manner of frocks, capes, and dresses—stood behind their seats at the table, rigid and silent. Code self-consciously took his elbows off the table and stood up straight. Across the massive table, Gary politely closed down his finger cannons and winked at Code.

Peep fluttered down to the table. Without a word, the butlerbot marched over and used a pair of tweezers to drop a tiny place setting in front of her. Glowing a happy gold, she chirped at the collection of tiny plates and cups.

The table fell absolutely quiet. At the head of the table sat the thinnest, tallest, most sophisticated ladybot imaginable, arrayed in perfectly coordinated clothing and accessories: a floral-print dress, stylish sunglasses, a floppy hat, a gargantuan pink handbag, and a slew of jangling bracelets. She moved like a titanium ballerina and smiled like an aluminum angel. Every inch of her steel frame exuded grace, elegance, and poise. In exquisite calligraphy, a name card at her place setting read, “Lady Watterly.”

The magnificent Lady Watterly gave a nearly invisible nod of her head. The entire dinner party rolled forward in unison, docked with their chairs, and positioned their seats the same distance from the dinner table.

The robot giantess sitting next to Code noticed that his chair was off by a few millimeters. “Oh, my!” she murmured, scandalized, placing one claw over her primary mouth-speaker. From a secondary speaker mounted on the other side of her face, the giantess whispered to a friend, “This one hasn't got any docking manners at all!”

To which her friend replied, “I can't even imagine!” (As a simple robot, she meant this literally.)

Clearly hearing the entire conversation, Code said, “Oh, excuse me.” He tried to reach gracefully for a goblet and immediately knocked it over. The spilled liquid formed a pool that sizzled and smoked its way through the table. Mortified, Code tossed a napkin onto the acid spill. It instantly burst into flame and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

There was a stunned silence. A dozen robot heads, most wearing makeup, swiveled to peer coldly at the tiny, insignificant boy-creature. Code sat very still. “Sorry. Uh. Sorry about that. I'm, uh, left-tentacled …” Code trailed off meekly. “Clumsy with my right …”

The dead silence stretched on for a whole minute. This was it. Code was sure that he was about to be thrown off the platform.
It would probably take five minutes to hit the ground from this high up
, he thought.
I wonder if I'll suffocate before I splatter?

Then a long, low chuckle reverberated from the glass dome. The giants glanced over at Gary, whose battle visor was glowing with mirth. His great chest heaved mightily as he tried to stifle his laughter, but oily tears were leaking from his visor. He was huge and armored and quaking with giggles. None of the lady giants moved a motor.

Finally, there was a soft chortle from Lady Watterly. And then a chuckle. Then a giggle, a cackle, and a guffaw. Quite suddenly, the entire table erupted into gales of hearty laughter.

“It's been eons since anyone so much as spoke out of turn!” exclaimed a giantess wearing a necklace made of ball bearings. “Oh, I just did!”

Paralyzed with laughter, she bashed the table with a clunky paw, jangling heavy bracelets like wind chimes.

Another ladybot leaned over to Code and confessed, “Ah, that's okay! I'm
middle
-tentacled myself.” She giggled loudly, slathering battery acid onto a loaf of green circuit board with a dainty tentacle encased in a white satin glove.

Some of the other robots decided to copy Code, tossing their goblets onto the table. The resulting sprays, floods, and dollops of acid nearly seared Code's flesh off and the plumes of acrid smoke almost choked him unconscious. Peep buzzed in silly loop-the-loops over the table.

Code sat back and watched in queasy amazement.

Maybe robots didn't always have to follow their programming? These robot ladies seemed happy to have a break from the routine. It had simply taken Gary to show them the way, by having a sense of humor. Code mouthed a silent “Thank you” to his friend across the table.

Gary gave a thumbs-up, devouring the gourmet meal and gulping down a bubbling cocktail with gusto. Code began to relax. Things were going really, really well. Maybe the trip to the Beamstalk wouldn't be a problem after all.

“Attention!” called the butlerbot. “We are now leaving the extreme upper atmosphere. It is customary at this point to open the air lock to the observation deck and enjoy the sight of the radiation belts. Please attend.”

The robot giantesses clapped with glee. “They say a breath of fresh space vacuum helps the digestion!”

Code watched in horror as the butlerbot pulled a lever and the air lock cracked open. During dinner, the platform had risen so high that they were above the atmosphere. Nothing but hard radiation and the lethal vacuum of space was on the other side of the dome. If he didn't freeze to death in the ice-cold temperatures, the lack of oxygen would suffocate him—assuming, of course, that the radiation didn't burn him first.

In a panic, Code leaped from his seat onto the table. “No! You can't! Uh, radiation belts give me gas!”

Again the room fell silent. The door continued to creep open. Oxygen whistled out through the widening crack. Code shivered as he felt the freezing-cold grip of outer space.

“Uh, me too,” said Gary. “And you don't want to be nearby when I have the space gas.”

Lady Watterly said nothing. She stared at Code, her head cocked slightly to one side. She clearly didn't believe him. The butlerbot kept his hand on the lever and the air kept rushing out of the room. The oxygen grew thin. A sheen of ice began to form around Code's nose. He breathed heavily, struggling to get enough air.

Peep darted over to the lever and tugged valiantly, but she couldn't budge it.

Code realized that he was going to have to
prove
his story about space gas. Growing faint, he mustered his energy. With every last ounce of his being, he focused on his own survival and … belched. Code sucked down a final lungful of air, and in a series of inspired belches, he burped the words: “Please. Close. Air. Lock.”

Shocked silence.

And then, once again, the robot ladies club collapsed into gales of laughter.

“Very well. Harold, please close it,” said Lady Watterly.

The butlerbot let go of the lever and the air lock crashed shut. Code took big gulps of air as the oxygen returned to the room, then collapsed on the table, heaving a sigh of relief.