Machines Dream of Metal Gods (2015) by Robert Chazz Chute

Author:Robert Chazz Chute [Chute, Robert Chazz]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Novella, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Science Fiction, Cyberpunk, Post-Apocalyptic, Teen & Young Adult
Amazon: B01326C3MQ
Goodreads: 26015766
Publisher: Ex Parte Press
Published: 2015-07-29T12:00:00+00:00

15

The harbor was an alien landscape. From my enclosed deck, the view beyond the wind turbines was open water. From my new perspective, the harbor was a city of its own. From the pier to the houseboats to the skiffs floating in the shadow of the City in the Sky, I could have walked all the way out to sit at the base of the turbines’ spinning blades.

Far to our left, I saw the container ship run aground as I had always seen it. The expanse between was a seascape of sailing ships rocking gently along a network of wharves. Farther out to sea, more ships stood at their moorings.

“Those ships, far out…are they too big to come in?”

“Some of them,” Greta said. “Most are warships.”

“Warships?”

“Of course.”

“For what?”

“To keep out the pirates, Phillip says.”

“But you don’t believe that?”

“Of course not. If it comes from the City in the Sky, it’s a lie.”

“That’s a useful rhyme,” I said. “So why are they out there?”

“To keep out more refugees. Only the sanctioned traders come to the bay.”

“Where do the rest go?”

Greta shrugged. “They come from villages. They’re turned away. The sailors say they go to villages up and down the coast. There’s even a castle down that way.” She pointed.

“A castle? Really? Like in little Takers’ stories?”

“You mean children’s stories?”

“Yes.”

“But the castle’s real,” she said. “My mother saw it once. It’s called Hearst. A ship that isn’t allowed to come into port here can go there.”

“What do they trade?”

“Oh, many things. The far gathering place by the water has a drum that cleans the water of salt. We had to give up one of our electricians for two months for one of those machines. In return a man comes up from the castle and keeps the drum working right.”

“You have electricians?”

“Oh, yes. Three hours a night the City sends us energy.”

“Why do they do that?”

“That’s part of the bargain that keeps us working for them.”

I watched the ships. Two drones flew overhead side by side but I saw none working along the piers. “Why don’t they use drones to unload the ships?”

Greta covered her mouth and whispered, “The traders refuse to deal with them. The machines are in control here but not up and down the coast. The coast is Gear free.”

“Gear?”

“It’s another word for the machines we use when we’re sure they aren’t around. From here on out, cover your mouth if you have something to say like that. There are cameras everywhere and Old Sam says, even if they can’t hear you, they might read lips.”

“Maybe they can hear us,” I said, “but they don’t think we matter enough to care.”

We walked farther along a boardwalk. An old sign hung over us, faded and weatherbeaten. It read: Fishermans Wharf.

“What do the traders have to trade?”

“Depends on which traders. I like the relic traders. They scavenge the Deadlands for Old World finds.”

“Like what?”

“The City pays well for old computers. One ship got a load of mangoes for a ton of old parts.

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