“It hissed through the gravel on the Zernike battleground, scratched at the rock and prised at the cracks. It was the last remnant of the winds that had torn over the icy plains of the North, whipping up the snow into blizzards before rushing on to tear the foam from the iron-grey waters of the Moonshadow sea. It was a scout wind, searching out the land, preparing for the invasion of winter. The wind hissed between the chinks and joints of Olam’s new metal body, cooling the electromuscle inside,... making him feel numb and sluggish. He needed to get up and move around, but he wasn’t allowed to. He had been ordered to lie down on the bare rock and wait, and so that’s what he did. It wasn’t that great a distance from Wien to the Zernike plain, but Olam felt as if he had come a very long way. After the trials of the stadium, he had been marched with the other recruits to a training camp. There he had been drilled in Artemisian philosophy and engineering by one of those seemingly identical grey-painted robots.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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