Part Three: Removing the Pin
![[Image: 8210881096_b3ab8930bf_z.jpg]](http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8202/8210881096_b3ab8930bf_z.jpg)
The sun was slowly setting, its auburn disk seeming to merge with the horizon and then slowly descend below it. Mender Silos had lived through a billion sunrises and sunsets, and yet had actually seen so few of them. He could not remember the last time he had stopped to experience one. He could not remember the first time he had stopped to experience one. And though time grew short, he decided that for the last time, perhaps, he would pause to take one in.
The Earth rotated about its axis, and as it did his position upon the Earth's surface changed the radial orientation of his sightline relative to the Sun. The atmosphere altered the Sun's radiation in complex ways, scattering, diffracting, and absorbing photons in a calculable way. There were only a few islands here, north of Peregrine Island, and the Sun slowly dipped below the flat, calm ocean. As the Sun disappeared below the horizon, the man once known as the Prussian Prince of Automatons reflected upon the clockwork mechanics of the world he was about to destroy. To save the world, he would have to destroy it, although that task ultimately was in the hands of another. But there was still a problem in his hands. At best, the plan conjured by the Dream Doctor was flawed. There were many ways it could fail. Which is why the Dream Doctor entrusted it to him. He did not want the Mender, he wanted the Schemer. And Silos would deliver him.
The sky had turned black, and the stars were now visible. They moved slowly in arcs reflecting the rotation of the Earth; too slowly for most people to notice, but not too slowly for Silos who followed their motion for many minutes. As the moon illuminated the landscape, Silos realized that it was only at this moment that he decided to take this final step; the one that would forever seal his fate. The Dream Doctor would never approve, of course, but that was always a problem with those like him: they were rarely willing to do all that was necessary. He was, and one look into Cole's eyes was all it took for him to know it of Cole, and Cole to know it of him. It was something only those of their ilk could truly understand, and truly recognize in others.
It was time. He took one final look at the world he would probably never see in the same way again, and then he was gone.
...
He appeared in a flash within a dark space. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the very dim light that was shimmering around him. Phosphorescent moss glowed with a soft, muted aura. Silos found himself in a large underground cave. Strange plants covered the stone walls and boggy ground. His own armor's various sensors and indicators were harsh spikes of light that interfered with his vision and he commanded them to darken. It would not do to be seen as he was, a small speck upon the bottom of the cavern, and he directed his armor to hover himself a full ten meters in altitude. He slowly drifted forward, towards an unusual rockface that appeared to be less overrun by vegetation. He stopped about thirty meters from it and waited. He had replayed this encounter a thousand times in his head and concluded it was important to concede the first move to his adversary.
Although he was certain he was detected the instant he arrived, it was a full ten minutes before anything happened. Slowly, at first, he noticed the rockface shifting. The vegetation seemed different somehow, although he couldn't quite tell in what way. The changes accelerated, and soon the rock face began to morph into a separate structure from the cavern wall. It detached itself, and then began to form a semblance of limbs. It turned to Silos - no, it didn't turn; its features seemed to slowly flow from the side opposite Silos to the side facing Silos, and he was soon gazing upon what appeared to be a giant homonculous of stone and overgrowth. It began to rustle, and then with a sound like rushing air through trees it spoke to Silos.
"Ra..pa..cious... De..spoil..er... You ... Have... Come... To... Seek... Your... Doom..."
The monstrous voice of the Avatar of Hamidon echoed throughout the cave. Silos moved slowly closer to the Avatar as he spoke. "Not exactly. Actually, on behalf of the human race, I've come to surrender. I am here seeking your terms."
"You... Will... Be... Scour..ered... From... The... Face... Of... Cre..a..tion. There... Will... Be... No... O..ther... Terms..."
Silos smiled. "Your terms are acceptable." Silos wondered if the sudden creaking of stone upon stone was the closest thing to surprise the Hamidon was capable of expressing.
"And now here are my terms."
...
The sun was slowly setting, its auburn disk seeming to merge with the horizon and then slowly descend below it. Mender Silos had lived through a billion sunrises and sunsets, and yet had actually seen so few of them. He could not remember the last time he had stopped to experience one. He could not remember the first time he had stopped to experience one. And though time grew short, he decided that for the last time, perhaps, he would pause to take one in.
The Earth rotated about its axis, and as it did his position upon the Earth's surface changed the radial orientation of his sightline relative to the Sun. The atmosphere altered the Sun's radiation in complex ways, scattering, diffracting, and absorbing photons in a calculable way. There were only a few islands here, north of Peregrine Island, and the Sun slowly dipped below the flat, calm ocean. As the Sun disappeared below the horizon, the man once known as the Prussian Prince of Automatons reflected upon the clockwork mechanics of the world he was about to destroy. To save the world, he would have to destroy it, although that task ultimately was in the hands of another. But there was still a problem in his hands. At best, the plan conjured by the Dream Doctor was flawed. There were many ways it could fail. Which is why the Dream Doctor entrusted it to him. He did not want the Mender, he wanted the Schemer. And Silos would deliver him.
The sky had turned black, and the stars were now visible. They moved slowly in arcs reflecting the rotation of the Earth; too slowly for most people to notice, but not too slowly for Silos who followed their motion for many minutes. As the moon illuminated the landscape, Silos realized that it was only at this moment that he decided to take this final step; the one that would forever seal his fate. The Dream Doctor would never approve, of course, but that was always a problem with those like him: they were rarely willing to do all that was necessary. He was, and one look into Cole's eyes was all it took for him to know it of Cole, and Cole to know it of him. It was something only those of their ilk could truly understand, and truly recognize in others.
It was time. He took one final look at the world he would probably never see in the same way again, and then he was gone.
...
He appeared in a flash within a dark space. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the very dim light that was shimmering around him. Phosphorescent moss glowed with a soft, muted aura. Silos found himself in a large underground cave. Strange plants covered the stone walls and boggy ground. His own armor's various sensors and indicators were harsh spikes of light that interfered with his vision and he commanded them to darken. It would not do to be seen as he was, a small speck upon the bottom of the cavern, and he directed his armor to hover himself a full ten meters in altitude. He slowly drifted forward, towards an unusual rockface that appeared to be less overrun by vegetation. He stopped about thirty meters from it and waited. He had replayed this encounter a thousand times in his head and concluded it was important to concede the first move to his adversary.
Although he was certain he was detected the instant he arrived, it was a full ten minutes before anything happened. Slowly, at first, he noticed the rockface shifting. The vegetation seemed different somehow, although he couldn't quite tell in what way. The changes accelerated, and soon the rock face began to morph into a separate structure from the cavern wall. It detached itself, and then began to form a semblance of limbs. It turned to Silos - no, it didn't turn; its features seemed to slowly flow from the side opposite Silos to the side facing Silos, and he was soon gazing upon what appeared to be a giant homonculous of stone and overgrowth. It began to rustle, and then with a sound like rushing air through trees it spoke to Silos.
"Ra..pa..cious... De..spoil..er... You ... Have... Come... To... Seek... Your... Doom..."
The monstrous voice of the Avatar of Hamidon echoed throughout the cave. Silos moved slowly closer to the Avatar as he spoke. "Not exactly. Actually, on behalf of the human race, I've come to surrender. I am here seeking your terms."
"You... Will... Be... Scour..ered... From... The... Face... Of... Cre..a..tion. There... Will... Be... No... O..ther... Terms..."
Silos smiled. "Your terms are acceptable." Silos wondered if the sudden creaking of stone upon stone was the closest thing to surprise the Hamidon was capable of expressing.
"And now here are my terms."
...