Sneak Peak: The Iron Oracle
A couple years ago, I published Homestead Hunts as part of the Earth's Final Chapter series with Endless Ink Publishing.
This month, I just finished and sent in the sequel: The Iron Oracle, which focuses on--you guessed it--the mysterious, intelligent Iron Oracle, a robot that claims to be a prophet for the gods. Which was discovered by a teenage orphan with a gift for mechanics.
Here's a snippet of that story!
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Claire and the movers are silent as the meeting progresses around them. Oscar catches her eye long enough to wink before returning his attention to Councilman Sebastian Phelyan, who’s grim.
“...and that’s the situation. Louis kept the hunts legal in the hopes of buying more time to find another food source. If you want to outlaw them, then we’re going to need a solution fast, or we’ll be starving to death within the decade.”
The movers quickly leave. Claire tunes out most of what’s going on around her, looking over the Oracle to make sure it didn’t get any dents or hits. Although the starving to death bit does catch her attention, he also said decade. So they’ve got time.
“What about the Dead Zone?” Ms. Audu asks. “We can tear down a few lots and create a farm out of it.”
“With what soil?” Jethro asks. “We’re a Mega City. Nothing but concrete for ten feet down.”
“There’s soil outside of the dome. We can transport it inside.”
“Didn’t it get affected by radiation or pollution at some point, which was the whole reason Mega Cities were created?” Oscar asks.
“By now the radiation levels will be low enough for suitable farming.”
That was not a human voice.
Claire shrieks, jumping back and falling to the ground as the Iron Oracle’s eyes light up. Chairs slide back, and Ms. Audu crouches next to her. “You okay?”
“It talks,” Claire says.
“Oh, good, I’m not the only one who heard that,” Mr. Phelyan says, sounding faint.
The Iron Oracle turns its head and looks at her. “My apologies for startling you.”
Oscar gets on his knees. “Oracle...”
“Uh, Claire?” Max asks. “Did you...”
“No,” she squeaks, taking Ms. Audu’s hand and getting to her feet. “I don’t—I don’t think so.”
“You did, actually,” the Oracle says. “When you connected me to a power source.”
“That...that was a year ago! You’ve been sentient for a year?”
“Quite right.”
“And the reason you waited so long to let everyone know is because...” Jethro prods. He holsters his pistol. Claire didn’t even see him draw.
“My mere existence has been highly disputable for the last several decades. I was unsure how everyone would react. As it stands, despite the recent legalization, it is still highly disputable and likely to end in a less than satisfactory manner for me,” the Oracle says.
“Whoa, we won’t let that happen,” Claire declares, shock giving way to giddiness. Holy Gaia, I have an actual robot!
“So why did you speak up now?” Mr. Phelyan asks.
“Because we have a larger problem than your dwindling food stores.”
“Oh, great,” Jethro says. “Just what we need. Let me guess: Bastion’s going to start another war?”
“What do you know of the Planetary Council?”
Everyone in the room looks at each other with blank expressions.
“Ancient history,” Max says. “The PC sought world domination and eventually crumbled under its own weight.”
“But that was centuries ago,” Ms. Audu says.
“It has been rebuilding,” the Oracle explains. The screen in its chest flickers to life, revealing a map of Homestead and its surroundings. A glowing dot gets closer to the city. “There is a PC Terrain Bus, headed by Captain David Sutton, coming this way as we speak. They will be here within twenty-four hours. Until now, the PC was unaware of our existence. However, that is no longer the case.”
Mr. Phelyan brightens. “This is great! This could solve our food problem. We can trade with these guys, get access to medicines and technologies beyond anything we’d be capable of on our own.”
“At what cost?” Max asks. “The Planetary Council wants to dominate the world. We’d be their subjects.”
“This is just a scout. Right now, we’re too far away from them to even think about taking over. By the time they do start thinking about that, we could be back on our feet,” the elder councilman replies. “I’m just saying, we have an opportunity to solve a crisis before it officially starts. We have enough problems without worrying about whether we’re going to starve in the near future.”
“I say blow it up,” Jethro says. “We can’t risk it.”
Phelyan frowns. “They’re going to send more, and if you blow up their friends they’re not going to be happy.”
“We’ve been looking after ourselves for generations, without any kind of council. We don’t need them.”
“We really do.”
“Enough,” Max says. “Philippa, you will lead a diplomatic effort with these people. Find out what they want and what they’re capable of. Take Jethro for security. Meron, look into her idea of transforming parts of the Dead Zone into a farm. Claire.”
The teen jumps at her name. “Yes? Sir?”
He waves at the Oracle. “You handle...that. Keep it in one piece. We’ll pay for whatever parts you need.”
She beams.