Emily exited the tent dressed in her new soldiers uniform and paused for a moment to look around at the camp in the gathering darkness.

It was almost full night now. A few stars were beginning to appear, those bright enough to compare with the almost full moon and the crimson glow on the horizon that marked where the sun had recently set. Some of those stars were moving, she saw. Machines going about their business. Either sunlight reflecting from the steel hulls of machines in Earth orbit or the plasma drives of larger machines elsewhere in the solar system. The reminder of the machine civilisation brought the anger back with an Indrawn hiss of breath and a clenching of her fists, along with a renewed determination to protect the Earth from their insatiable appetite for raw materials.

Protecting the Earth meant being down in the basement levels of the old Gorsty Common facility, though, where the ancient computers Randall was looking for would be located, so that was where she needed to be. That meant that her disguise as a soldier, which had seemed so clever at first, was a hindrance, though, since all on duty soldiers would be out on the perimeter, looking out for orcs. Precisely the opposite direction from the one in which she needed to go. She needed an excuse to go to the elevator shaft, no matter how flimsy an excuse.

Jane. She would be accompanying Jane there, protecting her. Never mind what Jane needed protecting from. So, where was Jane? She saw one of the workmen making his way to the mess wagon for a plate of beans and strode over to him. "The girl who came in yesterday," she said in her best deep, man's voice. "Where is she?"

The workmen barely glanced at her but nodded his head towards a cluster of tents close to the aristocrats' pavilions. Of course, Randall's tent. She strode in that direction, got the identity of Randall's tent from another workman, and ducked inside it.

Jane was bare to the waist, combing her hair with a long, walrus ivory comb by the light of a small oil lamp. She gave a gasp of alarm and clutched a blanket to her chest as the tent flap opened, then relaxed when she saw who it was. "Emily. You gave me a fright."

"Get dressed," said Emily, picking up Jane's jacket and tossing it to her. "We've got places to be."

"What places?"

"We're doing no good out here. We need to be where Randall is. He could be starting up the machinery right now for all we know. You're going to get me down there."

"I've got no plausible reason to go there..."

"Make something up. Just get us down there."

Jane nodded and shrugged into her jacket, then pulled on her other clothes. "I could say I've got to deliver a message," she said. "I don't know what message..."

"Just be quick," said Emily, glancing out through a gap in the tent flap. "I've got a feeling..."

Jane nodded. She had a feeling as well, although she had no idea what it meant. Perhaps it was just the knowledge of how close they were to the grand culmination of events, either triumphant or disasterous. No-one else in the camp seemed to be nervous or on edge, and many of then were professional soldiers trained to be constantly alert for danger. Perhaps God is trying to warn me of something, she thought. Some approaching danger.

As soon as she was dressed they emerged from the tent, where the chilly air immediately seeped in through every gap in their clothing. At least the snow had stopped, Emily thought. The flurries earlier in the day had made her worry that a major snowfall might be on the way, but the clouds had drifted away to reveal an almost full moon shining down on them. A moon that was at once achingly familiar, reminding the eco warrior of previous nights spent wandering what had been left of the world's green spaces, while at the same time disturbing her with its new lines and features created by massive machine engineering projects. A disturbing reminder of the power and might of the civilisation she'd sworn to destroy.

The two women walked carefully through the darkness that hid tufts and hummocks of grass that threatened to twist an ankle with every step. The elevator shaft was still lit by a dozen oil lamps and surrounded by nearly a dozen silhouetted shapes. Workmen mainly, but the three Barons were there as well, waiting anxiously for news from below like husbands left outside the delivery room while their wives were going through birth pangs on the other side of a closed door.

Before the two women could get there, though, they became aware of a disturbance from behind them and turned to see that a figure on horseback had been stopped by the soldiers on the perimeter. Voices were carried to them on the still night air, the voices of a frantic argument, and one of them seemed to be that of a woman. She was pleading to be allowed through, and since she clearly wasn't an orc the soldiers finally allowed her to continue, spurring her horse into a gallop through the darkness towards the tents.

"Where's Watt Fletcher?" they heard her demanding from everyone she passed. "I have to find Watt Fletcher!"

"Who's Watt Fletcher?" Emily asked Jane.

"Randall's alias," Jane replied. "She wants Randall."

Emily hesitated, wondering what to do, but the new arrival was already being pointed towards the elevator shaft and she was on a horse. She would get there before them. "Come on!" she hissed at Jane and then she ran, risking a sprained ankle with every step. Dammit! This was a complication she didn't need, or perhaps it was an opportunity, but she wouldn't find out unless she was fast.

She picked up her pace, therefore, Jane hurrying to keep up with her, and was just a dozen metres away when the new arrival slid out of the saddle beside the men gathered around the elevator shaft. "Where's Watt Fletcher?" she demanded again. "Is he down there?"

"I'm afraid you can't be here, miss," said one of the workmen, the Chargehand, coming forward to block her advance. "It's dangerous. Please go back to the..."

"Just tell me where he is! I have to speak to him!"

"I'm sure he'll be back up shortly, miss. Until then, if you'll..."

"Back up?" The woman stared at the elevator shaft, on the other side of the rope barrier. "So he is down there?" She strode towards the barrier, intending to duck under it, but the Chargehand grabbed her by the arm. "Please don't, miss. It's dangerous." He glanced beseechingly at the Barons as if begging them to step forward and take charge of the situation, but they were just hanging back and watching with interest. Enjoying the unexpected moment of entertainment.

"It's okay," said Emily, arriving to join them. "She's with us." She then pointedly ignored the Chargehand and turned to the woman. "Why do you need to see him?"

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

The woman glanced at her and looked as though she were about to say something, but then she glanced fearfully at the three Barons, all of whom were watching her with interested curiosity. "I need to see him," she repeated, making another attempt to cross the rope barrier.

The Chargehand tried to stop her again, but Emily interrupted him before he could speak. "It's okay, we'll go down together," she said, thrusting her poleaxe into his hands. "I'll see that no harm comes to her."

Her authoritative attitude had the intended effect and the man nodded reluctantly, backing away. Most people low down on the social ladder, she knew, were afraid of assuming responsibility for any unexpected situation. They were afraid to made decisions for themselves in case their superiors disapproved of the choice they'd made and punished them for it. Their automatic reflex in any uncertain situation was to stick to routine, therefore, and their automatic reply to any request from someone they didn't know was to say no. What they wanted was for someone else to take charge of the situation. To take the responsibility away from them. The Barons would have been ideal for this purpose, but they were facing the same moral dilemma as the Chargehand. They were under the authority of Duke Latimer and were wary of doing anything that would earn his displeasure. When Emily, dressed in her soldier disguise, offered to take the responsibility, therefore, they were all more than happy to let her have it.

Emily lifted up the rope barrier, therefore, and ducked under it, keeping it lifted for Jane and the newly arrived woman to follow her. This was perfect! Emily exulted. This was the perfect excuse to climb down the shaft and join Randall in the control room! What would she have done if this strange woman hadn't arrived? What reason could she have given for wanting to descend that the workmen would have accepted? It was almost enough to make one believe in Jane's God!

She sat down on the edge of the shaft and swung her legs over the side, feeling around for the rungs of the ladder. Before she could begin her descent, though, the ground suddenly shook as if struck by a small earthquake. Muttered conversations ceased as everyone braced themselves and stared around in shock and surprise, the same question visible in every eye. What was happening? Emily clutched hold of the edge of the shaft in case the ground moved again, but it didn't. Instead she became aware of a high pitched whine coming from somewhere down below, reminding her of the sound made by a great engine straining against an immovable load.

"It's okay," said someone a distance away, hidden in the darkness. "Just a slight earth tremor. We get them sometimes, every couple of years. Nothing to worry about."

Emily saw everyone relaxing in response to the very sensible and plausible suggestion, but then another shout came from the opposite direction. "There's a crack in the ground here! The ground's opened!"

"Where?" someone else asked.

"Where we cleared the grass away. You know that layer of devil rock? It's got a crack going straight across it!"

"And the ground's risen up a bit on either side," someone else added. "Like it's a big loading hatch trying to open."

Randall was trying to open the helicopter landing pad, Emily realised. He was trying to deploy the transmitter but the doors were stuck. Not surprising after a thousand years. The whine was the motors straining to overcome the obstruction and it was getting louder and deeper as they applied more force. How long would it be before they burned out? Emily suppressed a laugh of self mockery and despair. Everything that had led up to this, and it was all for nothing because of a stuck door!

The newly arrived woman, meanwhile, was staring at Emily anxiously, clearly waiting for her to either climb down or get out of the way. Might as well go down, the eco-terrorist decided. Might as well see the look on Randall's face when he sees that all his plans were coming to nothing.

She began to descend, therefore, Jane and the newly arrived woman behind her, climbing down the ladder built into the side of the elevator shaft while the whine of the straining motors grew steadily louder and more urgent.

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*Error,* the computer declared in a calm voice. *Transmitter door failure. Shutting down motors...*

"No," said Randall in alarm. "Increase power to the motors. Get the doors open!"

*That is not advised. Motor burn out may occur. Motors should be shut down and maintenance crews summoned...*

"Problem?" said Loach, stepping forward with a concerned look on his face. He was also able to hear what the computer was saying by means of his head phone.

"The doors won't open. Probably just stuck. I'm telling the computer to increase power. Did you hear that, computer? Increase power to maximum!"

*Complying under protest. Power increased to one hundred percent. Problem persists. Warning, motors are overheating. Burnout imminent. Recommend shutting down motors and...*

"No! Keep the motors running! Let them burn out!" The machines must surely be aware of what he was trying to do by now. They had this one chance to get the transmitter deployed. Either they succeeded now or they failed forever.

The room was filled with the whine of motors straining against an intolerable load. It jarred like the sound of fingernails on a blackboard, setting their teeth on edge, but what frightened them more was the mental image of smoke rising from giant coils of copper wire somewhere deep below them, coils that were beginning to glow with heat. Would the room soon begin to fill with smoke? Would they be suffocated before they could escape to the surface?

Then there was a loud bang from somewhere above them, the ground shook again and the whine from the motors suddenly quietened. *Doors opening,* the computer informed them. "Transmitter deploying.*

Randall breathed a sigh of relief. "Probably soil clogging the hinges," he said. "It gave way when enough force was employed. Should be okay now." I hope, he prayed earnestly.

The much lower and more contented sound of the motors continued for a minute or so, then stopped with a clunk. *Transmitter successfully deployed,* the computer informed them.

"Begin transmitting the file," said Randall with deep relief. His whole body was as tense and highly strung as a piano wire, he realised. He forced himself to relax. It was all going to be okay.

* Transmitting file,* the computer said.

Randall felt an almost hysterical jubilation coming over him. They'd done it! Before long now, messages would begin coming in from machines all across the solar system declaring themselves ready to accept his commands. It was possible, though, that there were automatic systems, not under the control of a sapient machine, programmed to destroy the source of any unauthorised radio transmissions just in case a situation like this might occur. If so, Gorsty Common might be about to be destroyed from space. Time to leave, therefore, now that they'd done what they'd come to do. They would go to another city, he decided. A city with priests who would obey his orders when one of his machines in space transmitted yama666 back down to the ground. Not Elmton. Elmton might also soon be destroyed by automatic systems programmed to kill everyone he might have shared twenty first century knowledge with. He would need to be as far away from there as possible.

He left the room, therefore, Loach following, and headed down the corridor back towards the elevator shaft. When he got there, though, he was surprised to hear people descending. He shared a puzzled glance with Loach, then went forward to see who it was. Probably the Barons, he thought. Looking for their gold.

He held the oil lamp out in front of him to illuminate the interior of the elevator shaft. There were three people descending, he saw. A soldier, who was almost at the bottom, and two women just above him. "Randall?" called a familiar voice.

Randall froze in astonishment. "Emily? Is that you? Have you brought the priests? If so you're too late. I've already sent yama666 to the machines in space."

"Watt!" called down one of the women further up. "Watt!"

Randall's surprise was redoubled and he strained to see the descending figure almost hidden in the gloom. "Dolly? What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in, whatever that place was called. You and Maisey."

Emily reached the bottom and stepped away from the ladder to make way for Dolly. Loach came forward to confront Emily but the exo warrior raised her hands to ward him off. "Let me speak!" she pleaded. "I can explain everything."

Dolly threw herself into Randall's arms as soon as she reached the bottom. "I can't find her!" she sobbed. "I can't find Maisey! Oh Watt! Do you think the assassins got her, like you said they would?"

"Assassins?" said Randall, momentarily confused, but then he remembered the story he'd made up to persuade Dolly to leave the city. "No, no. I'm sure she's just with Edward, enjoying some young, romantic love..."

Then he froze with horror, though, as the full meaning of Dolly's words came home to him. Maisey was still in Elmton, and it was very likely that Elmton was about to be destroyed by the machines just as soon as they could bring their space weapons to bear upon it!