Kell's Legend

smugly through a door. He woresubtle vachine battledress, skin-armour, they called it, beneath woollen trousers and a thick shirt and cloak. His weapons, also, were hidden. His eyes shone.
    “Get up.”
    “No.”
    “Get up!” He ejected a claw, and held it to her eye. “Anukis, I will take you apart limb by limb, orb by orb, tooth by tooth. I will massacre you, but your clockwork, your mongrel vachine status, will keep you alive. We know Kradek-ka made you special; you think us fools? You think the Engineers haven’t been inside you? Examined every cog, every wheel, every tiny shaft and pump? Kradek-ka did some very special things to you, Anukis, technology we didn’t even know existed. First, we were going to kill you. It was fitting. You are an abomination. But then a specialist discovered…the advanced technology, inside of you. You will help me find Kradek-ka. I promise you this.”
    “I don’t know where to look,” she said, voice low, staring at the razor tip of Vashell’s claw.
    “I have a start point. But first, I want to show you something.”
    Vashell tugged on a thin golden lead, almost transparent, and scaled with a strange quartz mesh; sometimes, it could be seen, rippling like liquid stone; other times it was completely invisible, depending on how it caught the light. Anukis felt the jolt, and realised it was connected to her throat. Another humiliation. Another vachine slight.
    Vashell tugged, and Anukis was forced to stand. She growled, tried to eject her fangs by instinct but only pain flowed through her jaws. She wept then,standing there on the leash. She wept for her freedom; but more, she wept for her dead sister, wept for her lost father.
    “Follow me.”
    Anukis had little choice.
    “Where is this?”
    “Deep. Within the Engineer’s Palace.”
    “I did not know these corridors, and these rooms, existed.”
    “Why should you? Even Kradek-ka would not tell you everything. After all,” he smiled, eyes dark, filled with an inner humour, “you are female.”
    The corridors were long, and the more they delved into the Engineer’s Palace, the deeper they penetrated, conversely, the more bare and more undecorated it became. Gone were carpets, silk hangings, works of oil-art. Instead, bare metal, rusted in places, became the norm. Deeper they travelled, Anukis trotting a little to keep up with Vashell’s long stride.
    They walked for an hour. Behind some doors they heard grinding noises, deep and penetrating; behind others jolts of enormous power like strikes of lightning. Behind others, they heard rhythmical thumping, or the squeal of metal on metal. Yet more were deadly silent beyond, and for some reason, these were the worst for Anukis. Her imagination could create Engineer horrors worse than anything they could show her.
    Vashell stopped, and Anukis nearly ran into him. She was lost in thought, drowning in dreams. Shepulled up tight, and he looked down, his look arrogant, his eyes mocking, and she thought:
    One day, I will see you weep.
    One day, I will watch you beg, and squirm, in the dirt, like a maggot.
    One day, Vashell. You will see.
    “We are here,” he said.
    “Where?”
    “The Maternity Hall. Your father’s creation.”
    “Maternity Hall? I have never heard of this.” A cold dread began to rise slowly through her, and Vashell pushed at the solid metal door, grey and unmarked, and Anukis found herself led into a huge, vacuous chamber which stretched off further than the eye could see. It was filled with booths and benches, and the air was infused with the cries of babes.
    Goose-bumps ran up and down Anu’s spine. She stood, stock still, her eyes taking in the bleak, grey place.
    She walked forward, as far as her leash would allow, and Vashell tugged her to a halt. Obedience. She stared at benches, where babes lay, squirming, their cries ignored as Engineers worked on them. In the booths which drifted away she could see what looked like medical operations taking place. Many of the babes were silent, obviously drugged. Around some, a cluster of Engineers worked frantically. Every now and again, a buzz filled the air, or a click, or a whine.
    Anu stared up at Vashell. “What are they doing?” she whispered.
    “Welcome to Birth,” said Vashell. “You don’t think the vachine create themselves, do you? Every singlevachine is a work of art, a sculpture of science and engineering; every vachine is created from a baby template, the fresh meat brought here shortly