A Perfect Machine

And he knew that whatever awful, horrible thing was filling him up, very close now to snuffing Henry out entirely – it was one and the same. A cancer that grew and twisted in him, filling him up to bursting with its emptiness.

The metal giant that once was Adelina Palermo moved toward Henry. It came at him tentatively. One earthshaking step, then another. Then one more. It stood in front of him now. It blinked twice, then sat down on the ground, hung its chin on its chest, and closed its eyes.

Powered down.

Of course. This is what it wanted, Henry thought, that sick churning feeling returning to his mind. Whatever I’m about to become – this was the plan all along.

Henry didn’t know what awaited him, in what form his existence would be after this – if such a thing were even possible – but with every shred of his remaining will, he wanted Faye and Milo to be there with him. This became his sole objective.

Henry leaned toward Milo and Faye where they crouched near one of the tunnel walls. He held out one hand, nodded his head toward it.

Faye and Milo understood. They climbed onto his hand – Milo getting on first, then turning around to hoist Faye up.

Henry closed his fingers around them protectively as much as he could, worked himself into a sitting position. He knew if he stood, he’d bash through the ceiling and onto the street again, endangering his friends.

He remained in that position, while the bombs rained down overhead, punching holes in the pavement above him. More vehicles and people crashed through to the subway tunnel. Throngs of people began crawling on Henry, climbing him, their attacks vicious, but harmless.

Henry shifted Faye to his right hand, so that he had one friend in each. He raised his arms higher so the people now swarming his legs couldn’t easily climb farther up him, get access to his hands.

Milo and Faye did nothing but stare up at Henry, tears in their eyes while they waited for whatever came next.

Kendul, Marcton, and Cleve stood far enough back from the scene unfolding in the tunnel that their thoughts remained calm. They felt detached from what was happening. They did not understand why Adelina stopped advancing on Henry. They had no idea why she’d simply sat down in front of him and closed her eyes.

These three men knew only that they were witnessing the end of their city, and possibly the events that would usher in the end of their kind. They said nothing to each other, too shocked and confused to properly articulate their thoughts.

Henry Kyllo sat with his back to them. Waiting.

That’s when Henry entered the final stage of his transformation.



* * *



Something like creation filled him up inside.

A slow-burn big bang.

Not long after this process started, the last vestige of Henry Kyllo would vanish from existence. But for the final two minutes of his life, he would be vaguely aware only that he was getting bigger again, and that he had saved his friends. At least for a time.

When he felt this last episode of growth coming on, he instinctively got to his feet. He curled his fingers around Faye and Milo, still one in each hand, to protect them.

His head, shoulders, and torso shot up through the tunnel ceiling, destroying it. He emerged into a different section of the street above. Chaos was everywhere. Everything was burning. Everyone was dying. It no longer even seemed connected to him any more.

Seeing this filled Henry with profound sadness, and he closed his eyes against the sight.

Several missiles landed about a mile away, exploded, lit the night. More landed closer. And Henry continued to grow.

Hands still wrapped as tightly as possible without crushing Milo and Faye, he rose up through the ground, expanded, changed, now fully smooth and entirely black. A massive robot carved from obsidian.

Taller and taller. His head shot past the fourth floor of a glass skyscraper to which he was adjacent. He turned toward it, saw his reflection for the first time – truly saw what he’d become. And that loss of self-identity – that part of everyone that anchors who we are to how we look – was the last thing to break inside of Henry Kyllo. As he grew taller than the tenth floor of the skyscraper, he felt his consciousness drain from this machine like water down a rainspout.

When he passed the twentieth floor, he was gone from this world.

Henry, Milo’s and Faye’s dear friend, no longer held them; they were now simply in the hands of an unfeeling, unknowable monolith.

As Henry’s torso expanded, Milo and Faye stared in terror at each other through his fingers, the gap between them becoming greater and greater. By the time Henry’s head cleared the seventy-story skyscraper, his chest was nearly the width of the building itself.

And still, he continued to grow.

Missiles exploded down at his feet, and as far as the eye could see. All throughout the city, out into the countryside.

Henry grew further outward, shooting up through clouds still dumping the neverending snow onto the earth. A passenger plane crashed into one of his arms, burst into a fiery ball.

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