The umbilical tether of Syrinx was a brutal and impressive thing. It was a mass of thick super-alloy cables twisting up from the earth in the middle of a dead city, reaching into the dusty sky where it locked the great temple in place a mile above the ground. It was hardly ten feet in diameter, yet held the temple fast—and telling time-worn strands of steel split from the centerwires of the cable mass, curved and creaking knives jutting out like gnarled needles in a pincushion. Other smaller cabling hung down as decrepit lichen surrounding the tether, blowing limply in the breeze. Since the Sundering, the floating mausoleum had seen no visitors. The aerial lifts had been destroyed, their diagonal tethers and guidelines severed during the cataclysm by raging storms. There was only one way up, now… and the piles of shattered bones that littered the ground around the umbilical anchor spoke to the challenge of the path. A man stood in the cool shadow of the great cable, pale morning light creeping around its breadth. He slung his weapon over his back and clapped the dust and sand from his gloves, then reached for the nearest cable that was thin enough to be grasped. He gave it a hardy yank, then a second, feeling the baked rubber crackle in his grasp. And then he planted one boot on the thick umbilical, and pulled himself off of the ground and into a steady climb.
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The sun had begun to trace its path back down toward the western horizon when he finally chanced a glance down past his hanging coat. The dead city below looked more distant than it really was, clouded by thick dust that hung in the air like fog. Sunlight gleamed off of the sand-polished skeletons of old-world skyscrapers… and he knew that it must have been beautiful, once. Sheer faces of shining glass and mirror-like metal, teeming with industry and… life. Now it merely resembled a graveyard composed of stiff and twisted metal tombstones, slowly being blasted away into nothingness by the sand and sun. People lived and worked in this place. Thousands of them... thousands. Images of the past came into his mind, busy streets and crowded buildings teeming with the bustle of a careless summer day. The sky was blue and pocked with bright white clouds that hung like cotton so far above. Nobody alive then knew what was to come. They couldn't have. Now they were bones and ash and dust, and the world they strove to build lay in ruins around them. He shook his head grimly and returned his attention to the base of the temple, still far above but closer than ever. One hand over another, he continued his ascent.
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The noises were the worst of it. The higher that he climbed, the more the great alloy tether groaned beside him. What began as a quiet whispering creaking would flow and reverberate from the top down, loudening at first and then morphing entirely into an angry, protesting scream of steel agony. The umbilical itself seemed even more decrepit and decayed the nearer he came to the top, more wires were split open, hanging loose, broken away by sheer tension. He was no more than a few hundred yards away, now. He paused his climb and shook each foot, refreshing the circulation in his heavily-taxed extremities. He did the same for his hands. His right boot braced against the thick umbilical and his upper body heaved...
And the boot slipped.
His legs fell and swung him away from the central tether, the cable in his hands snapping taut with a whip-crack and the distinct cry of wire under tension. He clutched the cable close and brought his legs in to clench it between them, exerting all of the strength he held in reserve to stop himself from sliding down as he swung back and forth slowly. Sweat poured down his face but he held fast, and eventually the cable stopped its pendulous sway. He planted a boot back on to the thick umbilical, jamming the sole into the crevice between two loose strands of wire, and willed his racing heart to slow.
He heard the echo of the cable snapping taught a moment later, bouncing all the way down from the base of Syrinx above. It was deafening, the sound penetrating his ears and scrambling his thoughts until he shoved his head down between his outstretched biceps to dull the noise. And then a strange sound followed behind the fading echo… clapping steel, like half a dozen heavy springs snapping loose. He regained his posture and looked up again just in time to spot a tangle of objects falling from the distant bottom of the temple. They looked like balls of scrap metal, rusty and shredded. And then they spread their wings.
His face went stiff with a grimace and he grit his teeth. Red jewel-like eyes shone from the heads of the mechanical beasts, scanning the tether as they glided down towards him, honing in on the intruder to their domain. Ancient servitors made to defend the Temple from attack or infiltration, to stop thieves and terrorists… their sensors too decrepit to detect a body scaling the umbilical, but the sound of the cable whipping, the deafening echo… it must have woken them. They found him quickly and dove with a furious grinding scream, swooping down and cutting through the air beside him and blasing him with harsh wind. Rusty jagged edges gleamed where talons should have been and he realized as one passed inches from his shoulder--they were covered in blades. Their wings were razors and what passed for a body was teeming with sharp curves and points, like a bundle of swords molded to resemble an eagle. They had no legs, but a barrel-shaped ‘head’ set with two bright ruby red optical fixtures. Their wings fluttered with perfect precision, lifting them high above him before looping back and diving down in a savage glide to excise him from the umbilical tether like a parasitic insect.
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He kicked the umbilical hard and swung away from it, narrowly avoiding the first attack. One of the steel birds caught the long tail of his coat, shredding it to ribbons. His boots dug into the umbilical when he swung back into it and he let go of the cable with one hand, reaching over his shoulder to grab at the weapon secured there. He hissed when the sound of fluttering wings vanished once more and looked over his shoulder to see the blurred shapes dive down after him again. His mind raced and he considered letting himself slip down a few dozen yards to reposition, to buy time to ready his weapon, but he thought better—if he moved, they might continue through where he was and sever his life-line cable. He glanced down at the ground so far below… and followed another desperate avenue of thought.
The umbilical. They were in place to defend it—they would not damage it. He studied the thick mass of twisted cables carefully, spying a gap in two outer strands wide enough to stick a blade into. With a desperate motion he ripped a bayonet from the scabbard on his hip and jammed it into the gap, spreading his weight between it and the edges of his boots as they dug into a much less substantial crevice in the umbilical. He hugged close to it, making his body as small as he could and bringing his head in to his chest. The steel birds rushed by with frenzied screeches, scarcely present long enough for him to register their passing—the only confirmation that they did was a sharp pain in his right arm , and the slow spreading warmth of blood in his sleeve. He raised his head and looked at the wound. It was a small cut, barely a few inches across his sleeve, and felt shallow. He ignored it with a scowl and cast his eyes away to reassess his situation.
The cable he was using to climb was gone. Not entirely—the length above him remained, cut off above his head. The rest was busy plummeting to the ground a mile below. He spat an oath and hooked his elbow around the bayonet’s handle, swinging the gun from his back and into the grasp of his free hand. It was a submachine gun, an old world design made long before the Sundering and sure to survive long after he himself was reduced to dust. He pushed the safety free of the trigger guard and pushed the stock to his shoulder, raising the weapon to aim at the steel birds as they reached the apex of their preparatory climb. Time slowed and they hung in the air, stuck in the moment between rising and falling, gravity holding them buoyantly still. He pulled the trigger and sent a short spray of hot lead streaking out toward the flock. Three shots missed entirely, zipping past the metal machinations, but five struck their targets. Whether by careful aim or stupid luck he paid no mind, his scowl turning up into a slight grin as three of the birds fell out of their tight formation and tumbled down in shattered pieces. He lost his sight picture as the remaining beasts dove, picking up deadly speed in a swift dive straight down. They curved at the bottom into level flight, spreading their wings. As they approached him they flattened their wings in the vertical dimension, braking hard and suddenly, falling away down below and passing the umbilical below him before beginning a third climb.
It took him a moment to register the six points of burning pain sticking through his coat and pants, and the clattering of metal between his legs on the umbilical. Little thorny protrusions pocked his body in six places, searing pain radiated from each point, cramps beginning in the muscles of his legs . The projectiles were light, barbed, and probably made of aluminum—designed to cut up anyone dumb enough to climb the umbilical without damaging it directly. He cursed and narrowed his eyes, drawing focus to push the growing pain into the back of his mind.
He wasn’t going to wait for a third attack. He slung his weapon over his shoulder precariously. His grip was getting weaker and he had to get to the top soon, or risk anemia and a cruel joke of a fate. He stared up at the dangling end of his climbing cable and grunted, using all of the strength in his upper body to haul himself up by the handle of his bayonet. It creaked in protest and bent uncomfortably, but held his weight long enough for him to find a handhold above in the umbilical. The thin cable beside him was at hip-height now, low enough to do what he needed to do with it. He grabbed it in his free-hand and fumbled around with the end, sloppily twisting and pulling it into a rushed loop-knot just thick enough to stand on. With another grunted exertion he pulled himself up higher, leaving the bayonet where it was as a foothold, and jumped onto the knotted cable, sticking one foot into the narrow loop. It took his weight at first, the knot slipping just a few inches before catching securely, and his grin turned into a wild smile. He braced his free foot against the umbilical and waited, pulling his gun back around and aiming it properly this time with his arms crossed around the cable to hold him steady.
The razorbirds screeched above him and dove for what was sure to be the final time, one way or another. They streaked through the air, metal demons with wings bent on his destruction. His finger pulled the trigger once and the gun barked, sending a single bullet smashing into the leading beast’s head. It veered to the side and broke apart the deadly formation, forcing the other two to circle around the umbilical and hit him from the sides. The second bird roared around his right and drove straight up, climbing in an even line. That was all the opportunity he needed. He aimed carefully and held down the trigger, walking automatic fire onto the machine’s silhouette until the monster shattered in the air and its pieces fell, dead.
The last of them was smarter. It dove at him from his left as he was focused on the second, screaming down at his back as he let off the trigger. His head whipped around and he caught sight of it as it flashed toward him. He kicked at the umbilical and turned himself around, but it was too late to stop the bird’s path. He grunted and pulled his leg up, bending it at a ninety degree angle with his boot flat against the umbilical, putting all of his strength into it.
As the final beast roared through the air, he kicked off of the umbilical, simultaneously swinging away from it and squeezing the trigger of his weapon. Instead of his flesh, the steel bird soared into six 7.62x25mm steel-jacketed slugs which tore it into chunks of twisted metal.
He stood bloodied and triumphant as the last monster fell away, his chest rising and falling with strained breath. Adrenaline was dulling the pain now, and he hoped it would last long enough to see him reach Syrinx above. He slung the weapon back over his shoulder and shook his arms lightly, then caught himself on the umbilical with his boot again. He took his other foot from the loop at the end of the cable and put one hand over the other, his eyes locked above, his body burning with pain and desire.
[https://i.imgur.com/dTRatnR.jpg]My greatest thanks to my friend Polilla for this amazing illustration! You can find his twitter account here ---> https://twitter.com/planetapolilla
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