Page 19 of Under the Iron Sky

Rather than telling the poor thing that it was probably best that they couldn’t see what remained of their once bright and glassy world, Soraya pointed a finger to the dim charts and graphs that were projected onto the canopy. “See those sloping lines? The orange ones are a map, and the green lines are mountains and tall buildings below that the scanners are picking up.” She gestured to a small yellow dial in the corner. “And that’s a compass. If we use all three together, we can fly pretty much anywhere without needing to see.”

“Could you not just turn on the headlights?”

“I could, but if we can see out, others can see us.” And they could really do with not being seen right now. Not when they were flying over what had once been a gorgeous valley, filled with sparkling blue water surrounded by fields of pretty fuchsia flowers—real, not glass—but had long since dried up, and was now occupied by the Arakna, the horrible race of half-spider half-humanoid creatures that Soraya would rather not think about unless she wanted her skin to start itching.

Just another one of the many horrors Ramapheal had brought with him—but that was a problem for another day.

The bird turned around, hopping on brand-new legs fitted with silicone pads to make his steps silent, and studied her. “Is it always dark outside these days?”

“Not as dark as this, but generally, yes.”

“Why?”

“You were created well before the invasion; shouldn’t you know this?”

His new eyes buzzed quietly, presumably zooming in on her face. “My memory has been wiped. I can recall nothing before the last two days.”

As in when she’d shot him. So she’d given him amnesia as well as executing him? There went another sin to add to her long list. How wonderful.

Guilt gnawed at Soraya’s insides enough for her to offer, “The Dar’rak—the species of people who can use magic,” she quickly clarified when the bird cocked his head, “they knew we used the suns to power everything, so while they were trapped, they built four towers carved from black rock. On Invasion Day, they speared through the cracks and started producing these thick gray clouds that cut us off from the suns. To get around this, we created mobile sunflowers and strapped them to the back of crafts like this one so we could get Light directly.”

“But the crafts would not fly?” he guessed.

“Oh, they flew all right, right into the new clouds where they smashed to pieces. You see, these clouds were impenetrable as steel. An Iron Sky stretching right above our heads with no end in sight.”

“Like a cage?”

“Exactly like a cage.”

“And it stops you from getting any more power,” he said. Not a question. Smart little birdie.

Soraya nodded. “We had a lot stored up to keep us going in the beginning, but we use Light for everything. Grow crops. Keep the healing centers going and run safe houses—not to mention power all the weapons and jets we need to fight back. All of it takes a tremendous amount of energy, and without access to the suns, we burn through it quickly.”

“And when you do, you’ll be powerless.”

“Yes.”

“And everyone will die.”

“You’re just a ball of fun, aren’t you?”

“No. My body is made entirely out of metal and wires. And my systems do not allow me to turn into a ball.”

“I know. It was a joke.”

“What is a joke?”

“It’s—never mind.”

A scanner on the dash beeped softly, indicating that they were reaching the edge of the Mansian Lake—and spider territory, thank the Gods. An eye on the compass, Soraya steered them ninety degrees to the left when they reached the lake’s lip, then straightened out.

The conditions were kind tonight, so they were making excellent time. Another twenty minutes and they’d be at the rendezvous point.

The bird hopped to the other side of the console to examine a pale blue graph. “What is this?”

“That’s the oxygen level.”

He turned toward an orange gauge. “And that one?”