Bo stepped onto the Earthcrusher bridge with his heart in his windpipe.
Swallowing hard, he peered around the chamber. Commander Rei was in his pilot’s harness, accelerator stirrups at half-pressure, Earthcrusher plodding slow enough that the swarm of shreddermen at its feet could keep pace. The impact of each colossal step sent a tremor through the vessel, but Bo was accustomed to it. When the army bedded down for the evening and Earthcrusher came to a halt, it took him hours to find sleep. The silence seemed unnatural after a day of earth-shattering percussion.
DOOMDOOMDOOMDOOM.
DOOMDOOMDOOMDOOM.
The instrumentation lining the walls spat and chattered, gauges and levers and dials, speaking with the stuttering voices of countless punch-card interfaces. Greasy air, smeared thin over every surface, dampening color to a washed-out palette of grays and drabs.
Bo stood before the pilot harness, bowing low.
“Have you need of anything, Commander?”
Rei didn’t turn his head. “I abide, brother Bo. See to your station.”
“Hai.” Bo sat at the communications hub, conscious of the signal splitter tucked into his belt. After a few moments, he allowed frustration to creep into his voice, turned to Rei.
“Commander, we are receiving inordinate background static on internal frequencies. The personnel decks are virtually inaudible.”
Rei’s head turned slightly. “The cause?”
“Apologies, Commander, I do not know. With permission, I will perform a diagnostic?”
“Swift as the wind, brother.”
A shatei appeared at Bo’s side, as if he’d coalesced from the greasy air.
“Can I offer assistance, brother?”
Bo nodded, kept his voice calm. “Can you head to the personnel deck and check if there is a problem at their end? It may not be the bridge hub.”
“Hai.” The Shatei marched into the elevator, doors ratcheting closed behind him.
Bo glanced around the bridge, looking for curious eyes. But every other Artificer seemed intent on their tasks. He unscrewed the communications hub faceplate, handfuls of insulated wire spilling out as if from an eviscerated belly. He searched spools of dirty reds, greens, blues, and reaching to his belt for the signal splitter, began splicing the device into the reception array. He was halfway through the installation when the Shatei on the personnel deck radioed in, reporting he could find no fault. Bo signaled thanks, licking sweat from his lips.
Glancing over his shoulder at Commander Rei. The other brethren. Listening to the elevator bringing back the Shatei from his fool’s errand. Clipping wire, reconnecting, clamping circuits shut, hands definitely shaking now. If someone were to pass by, to glance over— A metallic bang from the fuel gauges. A curse, rasping and metallic.
Rei’s voice, demanding explanation. A hasty apology from the Artificers, one stooping to retrieve the tool he’d dropped. Bo gritting his teeth. Elevator doors opening. Heavy footsteps. Rasping breath. Engaging. Faint whispers of static. The brother’s voice in his ear.
“Shatei Bo?”
Done.
“I found the problem, brother.” Bo lifted the faceplate back into position with a nod, began driving the screws home. “Loose wiring, nothing complex.”
“Always the little things.”
Bo forced a laugh. “My thanks for your assistance.”
“Always.” A bow. “The lotus must bloom.”
“The lotus must bloom.”
A sigh of relief, a quick check to see if his surgery had upset any instrumentation. But no, all seemed in order. The splicer would allow Shinji’s jury-rigged comm-system to piggyback off Earthcrusher’s aerial—with a few hours spent trawling the prearranged stations, they should be able to contact the Yama rebels. The Kitsune could then prepare for the assault without needing to factor in Earthcrusher or the Tora infantry who’d die in the resulting explosion. The carnage would be almost unthinkable. But this was war. Those soldiers were their enem— Bo’s comm-station clicked into life, message incoming. A series of authentication codes identified the transmission source as Chapterhouse Kigen, and the transmission itself as Priority Red. After a burst of static, the message began, spoken swiftly by a distorted metallic voice. Bo’s breath seized in his throat as he listened. He was barely able to acknowledge, send back the proper sign-off. He found himself sitting numb, struggling to breathe. Hands in fists, he swiveled in his chair and stood, stepping down the metal stairs to stand before the pilot’s harness.
Rei’s eyes were still locked on the horizon. “What is it, brother Bo?”
“Priority Red message from Chapterhouse Kigen, Commander.”
That got Rei’s attention. He pulled back on the stirrups, slowing Earthcrusher’s advance, turning to stare at Bo with his shifting telescopics. “Report.”
“Second Bloom Kensai has awoken from his coma. He is sorely wounded, but the False-Lifers say he will make a full recovery.”