Chapter 55: The City of Bridges
"Drink, kid," Ephraim said, pressing the rim of a tin mug to my lips.
I drank greedily until I choked.
"Need... Zeno..." I tried to move.
"Lie still, for God's sake," Ephraim wiped my forehead with his sleeve.
"Come on, open up the elbow, Ephraim. Under the third plate... yellow wire."
"You're delusional. If I start digging into your arm, you'll bleed out. It’s welded to you."
"Not to the flesh... to the frame. Cut the straps. Take the copper. If Zeno doesn't get up... we aren't getting out of here."
I felt him hesitate. Outside, the wind howled, driving needle-like snow into the crevice.
"I'll have to," he whispered.
Metal screeched against metal. The old man took a knife and pliers from his bag.
"There's a bolt here... it's jammed," he grunted. "It won't budge!"
"Use... a lever..." my lips barely moved. "Brace against the joint."
Crunch.
The metal plate covering the prosthesis's internals flew off and hit the cave wall with a clang. I screamed—the vibration passed straight through the pins screwed into my collarbone.
"I see it!" Ephraim’s voice was shaking. "I see the wire."
"Pull... carefully. Don't break it."
He pulled it out centimeter by centimeter.
Half an hour later—Ephraim was finished. In his hands was a tangled coil of wire.
"Now what?" the old man asked, trembling.
"Take it... to Zeno. On the neck... under the left plate... a port. Two contacts. Bridge them... give a charge from the capacitor..."
I tried to explain how to close the circuit using the residual charge in the prosthesis's power pack.
Ephraim approached Zeno. The cave was gloomy; only a dim sliver of daylight at the entrance touched the black armor. The old man spent a long time at it. I heard his raspy breathing and the soft clink of wire.
"The contacts... I see them..." he whispered. "Connecting."
I held my breath. My heart hammered.
Click.
Silence.
"It's not working."
"Again..." I grit my teeth. "Check the polarity. Ephraim, please..."
And then...
Zeno lurched. His massive frame rocked forward, and the drag sled beneath him cracked.
"Sys... tem... re-stored..." Zeno’s voice was a grinding screech. "Re-reserve... z-zero... point... nine... percent..."
"Zeno..." I tried to smile. "You're back."
"Iron..." his head turned toward me with a strained creak. The lens flickered. "Y-your limb... deformed. Wear... critical."
"Doesn't matter," I whispered.
Ephraim sat on the ground, leaning his back against the wall.
"What a mess..." he exhaled. "What a mess."
He only remembered the Inquisitor's bag an hour later, once Zeno had "stabilized" a bit. Searching for food, he found something more important.
"Take a look at this," he said, pulling out a leather tube. "The one in the cloak had it. A fine thing."
Ephraim unrolled the parchment. A map. I squinted at the symbols in the dim light.
"Zeno... scan it," I said.
"D-data... cross-referenced..." Zeno rasped. "This... the northern ridges. Red zones... marked as 'Cursed'."
"What's there?" Ephraim asked.
"There... the City of Bridges." Zeno went silent. "In my archives... listed as 'Object Four.' A Progenitor engineering hub. There... are workshops. There... is titanium."
"Titanium," I repeated.
"How far?" I asked.
"Three hundred and forty kilometers... in a straight line," Zeno replied. "In current condition... probability of arrival... less than two percent."
"At least it's not zero." I forced a weak smirk. "So, there's a chance."
Ephraim sighed, pulled a piece of stale bread from the bag, broke it in half, and handed me a piece.
"Three hundred kilometers, you say..." he shook his head. "That's a hell of a long time."