Chapter Six
In Which We Learn A New Word

The path wound upwards through the rocks, towards the top of the plateau. The younger half of the party skipped and flitted on ahead, still enthused by their ploy's success. Bob followed after, every nerve in his body twanging; Matrix brought up the rear.

"That was pixelacious!" Enzo was saying. "I wish I could have seen it!"

"That would have kind of defeated the purpose, wouldn't it, spriteling? Hoo-whee, what a kluge that was!"

"Kluge?"

Kluges, Bob thought. Val had always been fond of them. Schemes that worked for reasons which weren't readily apparent, or were extremely convoluted, or patently absurd, or not even intentional. Val to a tee. The problem was, kluges were often crocks, and thus extremely risky. When success depended on everything being just so, any unexpected change could crash the whole plan. Kluges were lots of fun to hear about, but anyone relying on one was taking a terrible chance.

What had Val said? "Get ready to run if this doesn't work." If. She hadn't even been sure! His charge had almost been turned to stone because of…

"Bob?" His head snapped around. Matrix had drawn level with him and was looking at him with a concerned expression. "You okay?"

"Yeah," lied Bob. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little bit on edge."

Matrix didn't look convinced. "Bob. Relax. It worked. We're past."

"Enzo, she nearly got - "

"But she didn't. We're getting through the Game, and that's the important thing."

Bob rubbed his forehead. "I should have known she'd pull a kluge like that."

Matrix gave a bark of laughter. "You call that a kluge? Didn't I ever tell you about the Games I played against Rocky the Rabid Raccoon? I pulled some kluges you wouldn't believe. At least Val had some idea hers would work." He laid an immense hand on Bob's shoulder. "You know, Bob… she may be annoying, but Val's going to make a terrific Guardian someday."

"What makes you say that?" asked Bob, a bit surprised.

"Because that stunt was exactly the sort of thing you would do." Matrix smiled at the various expressions that passed across Bob's face as he sought for a reasonable response to this statement. "C'mon, Bob. She's a Guardian, and a smart kid, and she's your cousin. She can look after herself."

"I guess you're right. I'm just too used to taking the risks myself, so no one else'll have to."

"And when Val graduates, she'll be doing the same thing. Might as well let her start now, right?"

"Right." Bob grinned. "You know, I never thought I'd see the second when you told me to relax."

"Me neither, but you needed it. Tell you what, you cheer up and I'll go back to firing at shadows, deal?"

"Deal." They shook hands with mock solemnity.

The children had gotten considerably ahead of them during this heart-to-heart; they were just coming out onto the top of the plateau, which seemed to be mostly rolling meadows, dotted with small olive groves. Bob strode briskly forward to catch up, and then paused as something on the path beyond them caught his eye.

"Speaking of shadows…" He looked up. "Above you!" he yelled as the first bird plummeted towards them.

The children glanced upwards, yelped, and darted aside before their attacker could hit them, but more of the oddly shiny birds were already beginning to dive. While Matrix charged forwards, sword drawn, and Bob jogged after him, hoping for one of the sudden bursts of inspiration that always served him in such good stead, Val and Enzo dodged birds and headed for the nearest clump of trees.

These birds did not look like hawks. They did not look like any particular type of bird that Bob knew of. They looked… they looked like the avian equivalent of the four golden horses that had been harnessed to the Glitch-chariot, vaguely mechanical and distinctly metallic.

Val, reaching the edge of the grove, stopped and drew an arrow from her quiver. Taking careful aim, she fired it at the nearest bird. It hit the brazen feathers with a hollow ring and ricocheted off. Val gaped and retreated into the safety of the trees. Metal birds? Maybe Dixon had been right. How was it possible to comprehend the workings of a mind that could come up with something like this?

Matrix had come within range of the birds' attention. One swooped at him; he waited, sword raised.

"I don't think it's gonna work, Matrix!" shouted Val. Sure enough, the sword clattered harmlessly off the bird's armoured feathers, its only effect being to knock the assailant slightly off course. It smacked into Matrix's helm with a noise like a gong and flew away, slightly dazed, to get enough height for another dive. Matrix shook his head as though he had data in his ears. His eyes narrowed. He sheathed his sword and raised an enormous fist. Another brass bird was coming at him now; sixteen metres away, eight metres away, four metres, two, one, and Matrix swung. There was a bong even louder than the previous one, and the bird flapped slowly off in no particular (or indeed consistent) direction.

"Bob!" bellowed Matrix, punching another bird. "Take my shield! Make for the trees!"

He took a few steps backward to be as close as possible to the invisible line that marked the edge of the birds' territory. As soon as Bob caught up to him, he thrust the shield at him and returned to the fray, swinging with both fists. Bob raised the shield over his head and hastened to join his young companions as the air filled with their cheers and the clanging of mildly concussed birds.

For several nanoseconds, Bob used the shield to ferry the children between groves while Matrix continued to put birds out of commission. Bob was getting worried. Matrix didn't seem to be tiring yet, but there were still dozens of birds left and they were simply too stupid to stop attacking.

"There's too many of them, Bobby," said Val, voicing his own concerns. "This'll take forever."

"Let me try!" put in Enzo. He threaded his way up through the olive branches. Emerging from the treetops, he aimed his wand at the nearest bird and sent a bolt of blue-white light towards it. It hit with a bright flash and a noise somewhere between a bang and a zap. The bird, now significantly less shiny, plummeted to the ground and lay there, smoking and twitching. There was a smell of burning metal.

"Yeah," said Bob. "That should do it."

The weight of the shield and the occasional jarring impact as a bird hit it were conspiring to tire his arms, so he waited with Val in a grove while the Enzo Matrices took care of the Game sprites. He tried an olive; being scenery, the olives weren't really programmed for flavour, but they didn't actually taste bad, and the cousins amused themselves by having an olive-stone-spitting contest, standing at the edge of the trees and using the stunned birds as targets.

"That's the last of them, I think," called Matrix. Bob (who was twelve points ahead and feeling rather pleased with himself) emerged from the trees, followed by Val, who was loudly demanding a rematch.

" - and besides, I didn't hear anything when you said… Matrix!" she said softly, staring at him. "Your hands!"

Bob followed her gaze. Matrix's knuckles had been lacerated; energy flowed from the numerous cuts and covered his fingers so thickly that hardly any skin could be seen. Matrix quirked an eyebrow and glanced at his hands. "Yeah. Those feathers are sharp."

"And you didn't say anything?" Val demanded as Bob raised his lyre.

Matrix gave her a quizzical look. "No."

Val said nothing but continued to look at him thoughtfully. Two verses of 'Sixty-One Seconds A Minute' patched him up and they continued on their way, but for several nanoseconds Val was strangely subdued.

Chapter Seven

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