Judgment of Metal
By MMA
“What madness is this?” Qenna uttered in quiet horror as he watched his many dozens of screens slowly trickle down lines of strange and terrible code sequences. All but one monitor was infected by this cyber-invasion.
“Shed, SHED, stop this now!” Qenna demanded of his computer servant. For the first time since its installation, his omnipresent helper did not respond.
Qenna dialed the buildings head engineer, hoping in vain for some guidance. “Tena, answer me.” His personal messaging system only gave scratching static in response.
Eventually Qenna’s frustration overcame his fear. The businessman decided he would go personally to find help and painfully drag back his failure of an engineer. A new dilemma quickly changed his mind from that course of action. The building’s alarm system started blaring. A loud hideous sound to rouse all of Qenna’s guards, and to draw the rest of our attention.
Protocol stated that all non-combat personnel, especially executives, were to stay in their offices Qenna, deciding to be a role model to his many workers, did just that and returned to his desk. But refusing to be blind to the situation in his own building, the terrified businessman started the manual override on his computers. He would first need to cut off Shed from its systems, a very taxing labor.
Using the knowledge, we gave him, Qenna began taking apart his highly sophisticated machinery, shutting down all the hard light monitors while only leaving the physical ones on. From there, it took only moments for him to regain access to his own property. He breathed a sweet breath as that torturing line of code dissipated. Whatever relief the young businessman might have felt was suffocated by the loud booms that started to shake his building. A pseudo military complex that was sheltered hundreds of miles underground, a failed precaution meant to prevent the current crisis.
Qenna’s efforts to wrestle control back from the system invader were slowed to a crawl by the marching sound of explosions and distant screams. His fingers begin to shake under the burden of fear, and the constant zapping from working with exposed wiring forced him to hesitate before every move.
He glanced at the live stream of his daughter singing with the nanny back home. It always played on his smallest monitor. Once again it served its purpose. Brief serenity.
He was able to patch into the system’s security network, which gave him access to the biometric status of each security guard in his building, and the many cameras that dotted the hallways.
His already weakened heart stuttered when he read that only thirty of his two hundred guards still had responsive life signals. Two hundred security personnel, each equipped with technology and gear that rivaled the local planetary ecclesiarch, were rapidly failing to contain the threat at hand.
One hundred and seventy men in minutes, without a single casualty on the other side. Qenna’s mind raced with possible suspects as he switched between cameras. The devastation he saw could only have been wrought by so few hands in the known systems. To think one could be on this worthless planet horrified him.
Yet the hand of the mighty had found its way home, and their work was clear. Every hallway was a battlefield. Small craters lined the floors and walls, guards turned to ashy paste or wasted metal, and countless rounds of ammunition littered the halls.
Qenna frantically alternated between monitoring the remaining life signs of his guards and searching for the invader between the cameras. Oddly enough his general staff and workers took only a handful of casualties, with many still cowering in prayer and fear while hiding in every corner that had a shadow.
Little of the situation made sense to begin with. Qenna still couldn’t figure out who was attacking him. He knew he paid the local clerics enough to leave him be, and with all the information he had gathered on their personal lives, there was no incentive for them to abandon their debauchery for war.
The invaders eluded any clear identification as they barreled through the hallways faster than Qenna could track them. What’s worse, the sound of gunfire and explosions slowed, and only about a handful of guards still lived. Not even the Pitheci—a twelve-foot-tall muscle-bound solider armored head to prehensile—was enough to hinder the invasion.
Although it was still under-construction, Qenna attempted to flee using his personal elevator. He grabbed his baby monitor, and a ornate handgun from his desk shelf before running to the corner of the room. As he got to work on unlocking the safety switch, an entirely new noise drowned out the sound of destruction. Qenna could not understand what was sending cold shivers up his spine. It was not horrible sounding, far from it. It was beautiful, hauntingly so. Neither song nor poem, but spoken words strung together so wonderfully that it gave off a natural rhythm.
The elevator opened to reluctantly allow its passenger in. All that was built so far was the skeleton, a simple automated pulling system and platform. It was in no way safe for general use, but a one-time emergency was surely reasonable. Qenna gently pressed the first-floor button with the back of his hand, as if scared to offend the machine. While the elevator started making worrying sounds in its ascension, he clutched his baby monitor, blindly hoping that love could give him power.
The terrible noise that was haunting his halls grew clearer. He recognize the hymn. Holy scripture, recited by a cacophony of voices. Everyone in the kingdom knew them by heart. Memorized from the great choirs who await the masses for the daily rituals in the ḥwt-ntr, halls of prayer. Spoken in a language that predated the united races’ departure from the home World.
“Accept no power other than the Divine,” Qenna recited alongside the speakers, “neither the arcane nor damned can save you from Heaven’s wrath”.
He felt tears run down his check tough he could not remember when he started to cry. “Please just let me go.” He prayed hoping this time it would work. “Not for my sake alone.” But time it needed to work. Otherwise, there would be no other way through.
It was madness to speak to power and hope it would answer. Hope that it would care. That is why he came to us; have we ever turned a deaf ear?
Qenna continued his babbling of prayers right until the recitation sounded a breath away, and two metal hands exploded through the elevator door. Qenna levied his gun right in between the new gap, with eyes drenched in terror, and fingers shivering as he got into proper firing stance.
The moment he saw a red light peer through the crack he opened fire, until his handgun ran out of basic materials needed to manufacture more ammunition. His defiance only served to slow down his enemy. The moment Qenna finished his onslaught, the elevator was torn open to reveal his assailant. A man-made angel.
A humanoid android with a black body covered in golden writing that dimmed faintly with light. Its head and face were sleek, ridged yet serene even though it lacked everything but a pair of eyes. Repulsors on its shoulder blades and ankles allowed it to hover in place like a proper angel. Two of its hands were still being used to pry the door open while its other two were clasped together as if in prayer. It was, is, one of the most terrible contraptions made by the enemy on high.
“Qenna,” it said in an elegant robotic tone, a sound horrible to all but the paragons. “You are under arrest for the acts of satanism, treason…”
The steel angel had yet to fully open the door and finish his list of charges when the elevator cabling snaped at the tension of it being kept from rising. Both the elevator and Qenna plummeted while screaming down several floors, crashing hard into the bedrock of the underground tower. Had it not been for one of our many gifts he would have died on impact, instead he would suffer a slow death.
Qenna was only unconscious for some seconds, waking up under the feet of the angel.
It floated silently before him, the two hands it used to hold the elevator were pointed palm first at Qenna, whose priority was finding his baby monitor. However, he found his search hampered by a broken shard of the elevator pinning him to the ground. Only after seeing it for the first time did he scream in horror.
The heavenly machine watched Qenna squirm in his agony for several moments before descending from the air and kicking over the baby monitor. Qenna managed to distract himself from his pain as he grasped the device in his hand, relieved to see it still worked.
“Had you accepted our authority, you would have been free of your agony.” The angel declared with its cold head held high, heedless to the cries of the mortal before it.
Qenna’s voice was low and hoarse, a pathetic contrast to the great angel before him. “I was never given a choice. Damnable machine.”
“Improbable.” The android replied quickly. “In the unlikely event that we die, our circuits would be greeted in the halls of light.”
“I doubt they allow mass murders there.” It is lucky for Qenna that at least his lung wasn’t pierced, so he could continue his habitual defiance against power. That did not mean his every word was painless, far from it. But even my lesser brothers could feel the anger driving his will, a will stronger then iron. “But then again, heavens knights have killed a great many.”
“Your men tried stopping us when we entered.” The angel retorted. “They stood in the path of divinity’s destiny.”
“They were people.” Qenna’s reply, though barely a whisper, was carried by a great degree of hatred. “Each had a life you cut short.”
“Just one of your men is responsible for more deaths than what was dealt this hour.” The android tilted its head slightly. “All delivered on their master’s order.”
Qenna glared at the metal angel, hoping to find a valid retort. A few moments passed before he realized the futility of his efforts, for the machine was right. Every soul in Qenna’s employ was almost as sinful as he. So instead of arguing he spat blood and ichor at its feet, then returned to watching his daughter.
“This talk is of little importance.” The angel continued, ignoring the insult. “We have not come to debate our actions but rather discuss your crimes.” The machine’s eyes flashed brightly before it continued. “It may be a moot point considering the state of you, but you reserve the right to a trial in an orderly court, or summarily.”
Qenna’s chest rose slowly with every bated breath. His eyes fluttered between life and death. His body crippled. He was in no state to defend himself, verbally or physically. Perhaps he believed his hatred was righteous enough to empower his thoughts.
“Fine, let’s have the trial here.” Qenna spat more darkened blood on his chest. “I would have refused to be dragged through the streets anyway. At least pull me out of this mess.”
“Understood.” The angel said as he leaned over to grab the poor sinner’s hands. With a steady pull he yanked the businessman from the metal chunk that impaled him and laid him on his back. Qenna nearly bit off his own tongue so he wouldn’t scream as he felt his bones and organs pull each other apart from the inside.
The android’s arm opened a small compartment. An even smaller device protruded and began blasting a thick paste over the wound. “This will both seal your injury and provide you with a strong painkiller, but your mind will remain untouched.”
Qenna grunted in response, after taking in a much steadier breath than moments ago.
“Now I shall list your charges.” His list was long and heavy. Some pride filled my pit of a heart at the terrors we helped accomplish. Multiple counts of hearsay and blasphemy. A several-hundred-page list of murder and torture victims. Extortion, bribery, racketeering. Treason.
“Innocent.” Qenna spat, before the angel could ask for his plea. He managed to crawl to the nearest wall and rest his head on the cold bedrock.
“Very well then, I shall begin to list the evidence against you, though since your time is short I will skip to the most damming.”
“No need. I do not deny the deeds listed, still I am innocent.”
“How so? Do you declare possession?” The android tilted its head as its eyes began to pulse. I swear I thought it could see us, but it made no move to act on such knowledge.
Qenna started to climb the wall so he could stand on his feet.
“No, possession, just abandonment.” A mix of anger and pride twisted the businessman’s face to a hollow dignity. “Abandonment by all that is holy and just. Betrayed by the light of good. I acted only in desperation.”
“You defend your hearsay with even more blasphemy.” The angel, though a machine, started to sound agitated. “Pray their forgiveness, so we may continue this trial.”
“I prayed!” Qenna shouted. “On my knees every hour of every day, I prayed. Until my legs bled and my eyes ran dry, I prayed. Never for myself, but for others, and for her.” He stumbled towards the angel, grabbing it by the shoulders as he brought his face close to it. “I even prayed for your death. Though it wasn’t our masters who answered the first set of pleas. Perhaps they would answer my latest as well”
In a blinding speed, faster than even you or I could follow, the android struck the mortal man across the face sending him sprawling on the floor. For a moment it looked like the android was going to do far more than just slap the poor fool, but it stopped. Hesitating in only a way a machine can. With a great many spasms running along its metal shell.
“We… apologize.” The android said in a low voice. “It is unbefitting for an agent of the crown and heaven to act thus.”
Qenna crawled back to the wall and wiped the blood from his face as he leaned back to stare at the angel. Choosing to ignore the brief altercation he continued, “Why do they curse me for finding another path? Why am I hated for figuring it out on my own? Without their help, without your help? I am innocent for I only acted after our great heaven ignored me.”
The angel stared at the man before it. A human, mortal. Flawed and weak, unlike its perfect creation, in which every line of code was accompanied by prayers and sanctification. Each circuit blessed by every cleric other than the unholy. It wanted to continue the trial and abide by its perfect path. But how can perfection act in the face of the impure, it needed to retort. It had to set matters right.
“Your child’s life was not worth the souls of tens of thousands.” The angel’s voice returned to its power once more. “Every action you took darkened the core of your world. A cruel under empire to serve even crueler masters. Instead of one, you created countless more bereaved parents. You didn’t even sell your own soul, but the lives of others. A far more cowardly act than self-imposed damnation.”
“None of it would have come true, had my tears meant something.”
“It is natural to die. Intersession is not always necessary.”
“Not for a child? One who is far more pure and devout than any other wretched mortal on this ball of mud and stone hurling through space. She deserved it, she needed it.”
“Had you stayed the course you would have seen her again in time.”
“I wanted her here.” Qenna shouted again, despite almost coughing up his lungs last time. “I needed her now.”
“You betrayed your nation for your impatience?” The android dropped all pretense of perfection by then. For he was well and truly furious.
“The hope of some fairy tale is of little consolation to the wretched. Why else do you think I managed to find so many followers?”
“It is real.” The angels’ bellowing was accompanied by every speaker in the building. Causing every atom in the halls to shake in its holy wrath. “Waiting for us, for all of us. How dare you throw it away for pride and greed.” The android unclasped its hands from prayer for the first time, then reached over to grab Qenna by the head. “Like so many others, you have offered a poor defense. Your punishment will begin with this execution.” It lifted the dying man off the ground, its fingers extending to carry him from under his chin like a man would an apple. “You may say your final words.”
Despite the pain and his imminent death looming before him, the mortal smiled before he spoke, thinking of his daughter as he watched her from the corner of his eye. He sang a lullaby. “Rest now child, don’t you cry. Daddy won’t be long for now.”
“A waste of a life, and words.” The angel said as his palm began to shine a powerful golden glow. A light so strong it burnt us all for daring to witness it.
What remained was a pile of ash and an angel covered in dust and blood.
It turned to look at us, at me. We thought of running away, I knew we all did, not just me. Nothing is truly safe and hidden in the dark. Its red eyes flashed as if blinking, then the repulsors on its back and legs fired up. The angel blasted upwards, ascending the hundreds of floors in a few seconds time, exploding clear through the now ruined entrance, and flying high through the city. The only sign of life left in the room was the baby monitor, still playing live recordings of a child playing with her nanny. Though a sad sight to witness, she is still better off than the many orphans Qenna made for us.
It really is a shame that we never got the fool to sell his own soul. We would have accomplished so much had we found him on the other side, but I suppose that honor is reserved for one of our traitorous kin.
