The day’s travel was much as before. Travelling in the cooler air then as the day drew to midday, it became unfeasibly hot. There was no shelter but that of a crevice where the road had buckled so much it resembled a cliff. Under its brief shade, he stopped and let them both cool down. 

Eugene chewed a strip of meat thoughtfully. He didn’t feel very hungry, something he attributed to the dour mood he was in. Come to think of it, he hadn’t eaten much these past few days. While he’d stayed with Clint at the remains of the town, he’d practically feasted. For a moment, he wondered if it was just because he’d gotten used to less out here.

Zero wasn’t far. The horse still looked as magnificent as ever. He managed a faint smile as he stood up, wiping his brow. Zero had several days of travel caked on the hooves and lower legs. He knelt briefly to inspect it and shrugged. They’d just be travelling anyway. He could give Zero a better clean elsewhere.

He stroked Zero’s face softly, easing the dust off the long face. ‘I could have talked to him, you know. Made my peace.’ He sighed. I know he was trying to help. It’s just all new out here. I can’t help but think that maybe I’m not suited for being up here.’

There was no vocal response but Zero did lean in to nuzzle him. The fox smiled. 

‘You like it up here though. You get to do a lot more than be my test dummy.’ One red optic eye swivelled toward him. ‘I get the feeling you know what you were made for and well.. I’ll say this. You’ll have to be my model for anyone who wants proof you can make it out here.’

It was starting to cool down. He glanced up and remembered the radio. 

‘I could have sworn this was heavier. Must be getting stronger out here.’ He lifted it with ease, resting it on his back as though it contained nothing more than light supplies. ‘We’d better get going. Once we’re at London, there’s a lot I want to ask.’

Zero seemed to give a nod of answer. Eugene noted that Zero had long since ceased to make that metallic noise he’d heard days ago then mounted up again then urged Zero into a trot. 

Now that was unusual. 

Did it feel for a second like he had felt muscles rippling there? 

He frowned and checked again. His hand brushed over the metal. For a second, it had felt that Zero was, suddenly and rather mysteriously, as alive as any real animal out here. 

He blinked in the remains of the day and shook his head. Bad sleep, that’s what it was. He was just tired. 

—----------------------------------------

The road was no longer straight. In fact, it seemed what had bent it and forced it into weird shapes had been enough to blow chunks of it away completely. Yet here it was. A junction that merged with a much much larger road, or at the very least, what remained of it. They had made it. 

Eugene stared at what was beyond, mouth agape and eyes wide. 

Clint had not been lying. 

—------------------------------

Another recollection rose up from the depths of traumatised memory.

Professor Marsh gave each of the group a dour look. The gecko hadn’t slept. His sleep had been interrupted by nightmares even though he’d spent the best part of the day packing what he could, storing and sending his research data across to the site in Birmingham. He’d instructed the others to do the same.

He was heading Evac B . Evac A had gone a day ago. Evac C would follow after. 

Once again, he looked over the anxious faces and steepled his slender fingers. ‘Please be seated. You’ll need to be.’

A chorus of shuffling as each member of the group took a seat then he closed his eyes. 

‘You will observe you each have a band about your wrists as you came in. That is very important. It’s a device to keep track of everyone. The reason will be as follows.’

He stood up and indicated the map on the overhead projector. It showed a road leading to a much larger circular one in which the word LONDON had been crudely written. Eugene glanced at it in slow incomprehension as the talk went on. 

The wristband was a tracker. If anyone was lost, one or more would go back and find them by the proximity of the band. Sounded easy enough. 

‘... Now that you’re all tagged, here’s the plan. We’ll take these by-roads just here so that those primitives up there don’t think we’re all waiting to walk into death. Stay close to the convoy, I cannot stress this enough…’

Eugene felt them coming. Hot tears of frustration, anxiety and sadness prickled his vision. 

They really were going. They were going away from Dover to… He strained to listen past the thumping of his heart. He’d already missed some very important parts of this whole meeting. 

‘... at London, I have to tell you something very important.’ Marsh set down his pointer and looked solemn. ‘Those of you who go above regularly know this already. London was destroyed. When we get to our meeting place outside it, you’ll see it clear as day. That.. was our fault. That is something you may not know.’ 

There were some confused noises. Eugene’s ears perked up at that. 

‘I’m going to tell you a little story. Not one of the usual ones, not one that has a happy ending. There are no heroics in this one.’ He removed his glasses and absently began cleaning them, a particular nervous tic of his as those who’d attended his classes well knew. 

‘I have heard many of you ask why it is that we remained underground for years. We told you of waves of plague, how society had devolved to chaos, the usual, shall we say, explanations that we hoped would assuage you and persuade you that going above ground was a bad idea. Or as we started to put it, ‘up top’. And when we started going up more often, we explained it was our creed to make things better. We…’ He waved a hand vaguely. ‘We fed into the myth as it were. The truth is a lot more complex.’

Eugene blinked and, for the moment, he forgot his anxiousness with leaving.

‘We came down here because of one event. That was the destruction of London. It was our work that did it.’

Now that definitely did not seem right. He’d been listening, yes. But it was now he really listened. 

They’d been lied to. They were underground for a lie. In fact it was perfectly fine up top. 

Before he could get too much ahead of himself in his own mind, he stopped. He had to hear what had happened. 

Marsh spoke hesitantly but met the full concentrated gaze of everyone on him. It was as though he expected to take the blame for everything that had happened. 

‘It is 2060 right now. The disaster as we knew it happened many many years ago but that was real. Our creed? You remember that is to make this isle habitable again and make it a haven as it once was. That was the creed then too. We do not know what caused it, other than several symptoms.’

He began to pace. ‘It was floods. Then drought. More of this isle began to become a desert. Then came more and more crop failures. Despite the march of technology, it seemed unsurmountable.’

‘Then one day, some of our ancestors decided to try making a device. It was a terraforming device and it was ultimately supposed to undo the damage done. By this point, significant advances had been made, but not without some loss of life and various stages of extinction. It was, as some might say, our last chance of hope.’

He paused and watched the silent faces. The auditorium had never been so quiet.

‘I am sure you can see this coming. The main terraforming device was in London. There were others, smaller and less grand but no less impressive. The plan was to initiate them all, a staggered and gradual process. One by one, they were activated. A couple failed to start but most worked and then we got to London.’

Professor Marsh paused and drew out the cloth from a pocket. He looked haggard and tired, yet still resolute. Eugene swallowed quietly. It felt loud in his ears. 

‘The device… It blew up. There is no pretty way to say it. There are no words in the English language, or indeed any other, that can describe the complete and utter failure of that one day.’ He wiped his eyes. ‘And it took London with it. All our research from there, gone. So… If you look for London, look for a crater.’

In the sudden silence, someone cautiously raised a hand. They spoke hesitantly as if afraid to break the sudden cold drop in atmosphere. ‘Uh, professor? What… What happened afterwards? Did we…’ They tailed off, looking around them unsure. ‘I suppose I’m asking why we had to go underground. Sorry.’

Marsh waved the speaker down and shook his head. ‘Don’t apologise. If anything, I should be the one apologising to all of you.’ He sighed. ‘To answer the question, we went underground as people turned against us. The saviour machine, as the press called it, had failed. It had killed, not healed. Our ancestors’ names were mud. We had no choice but to hide. Anyone who had aspirations of science either quit or went to ground like we did.’

‘This was, just so you know, a good… Oh I’ll say about 70, 80 years ago. But the shame carried through each of us. Like you, I was born underground and like you, I learned at the feet of my elders. But they carried this shame to their graves. And the only few who talked of it, told those they told the story, to never tell anyone else unless absolutely necessary.  Which is why I am telling you this right now. And all of you will know this when we head to Birmingham and continue our work there.’

He nodded to another holding her hand up. ‘Ask away.’

The speaker lowered her paw. Eugene recognised her as someone who worked with Sten but didn’t go on regular missions up top. ‘Then why the lies? We were all told our parents were rejected by those up top. That there were plagues. That society had fallen and we had no room up there. If we were told all this, then why bother helping them in the first place?’

Her question was calm but she was holding back her frustration. Eugene could feel it. Everyone wanted to blame someone. He did too. They’d had lie upon lie and it was all to cover some ancient shame they couldn't own up to.  He turned back to the gecko professor to await his response. 

It was to take a seat then wipe his brow. ‘I was told those lies. There was some truth in them. There were plagues. But we treated them. We did it out of guilt. Then we saw how things still were and said to those willing to listen that we’d help. They were sceptical. The stories had passed down, as you’d expect.’

‘But why help them if they shunned us?’ she asked again, more persistent time. 

‘Because to turn away from what people were going through would have been far worse.’ Marsh met her accusing stare. ‘Would you turn away someone you could help with our technology?’

‘I… I probably would. At first.’ She glanced at everyone in the room. ‘Wouldn’t you? They didn’t even give a chance for our ancestors to fix it.’

‘And you’d refuse them?’ An older fur stood up, giving her a long look. ‘I too was brought up on the lie my dear departed mother gave me. But I sensed much sadness in her when she talked briefly of it. She never told me about this. Today’s the first I have heard of why we are here. I have to concede I can see why she never talked of it.’ He glanced at the silent room. ‘But above, they were understandably angry and that I can see understand. We’d destroyed everything, their hopes most of all. I think the least we could do is build that hope back up. Don’t you?’

The first speaker sat down, saying nothing but nodding. Marsh wiped his eyes again and sighed. ‘Well said. We made a mistake, we weren’t allowed to fix it. But maybe now we can. And I agree. What we can do most is build hope back up. People up there have been living for these past years with no trouble. All we can do is fit our work in and show we can help.’ He shrugged and stood up. 

‘That is what I wanted to say but I’m afraid time is short. I want you all to get ready. Your research is backed up. Pack only the essentials, do not leave food and water supplies behind. I will warn you, this will be a long trip.  Above all, do not lose those tags.’

And so Evac B in the next few hours set off. 

Then came the bandit strike.

—--------------------------------------

Eugene blinked. He looked at his wrist. The tag that he had been given had gone. It was days away now to look for it. But now he knew all too clearly what had happened after and he wished he didn’t.

They had meant to leave through the remains of Dover port. It had been a thriving port once but now it was nothing more than a heap of buildings that stood empty or full of junk.  Beyond it, nature had taken over. Trees uprooted asphalt, forests grew and streams diverted. 

The attack had not come from the port despite the abundance of cover. It hadn’t even happened in the new forests. It had been at a newly forged stream when they got their bearings that the attack had happened. 

Eugene gritted his teeth and slumped to his knees. 

It was too much. They’d had no defence. All he had been able to do to escape the carnage was to mount Zero and order the unit into a fast gallop. He hadn’t stopped until a tree branch had knocked him off the metallic horse.

It wasn’t amnesia. He was sure of it. Or maybe it was, brought on the trauma of those last days and trying to forget the panicked cries of his friends. He was sure that Marsh had been brutally injured before he’d called out to everyone to save themselves. 

They hadn’t made it. There was no one here. There wasn’t even a sign of anyone here recently either. He stared at the twisted and tortured road and then up at the sky. 

‘It could all have been so perfect,’ he whispered and then looked to Zero. He stood up and brushed the dirt off his bruised knees. ‘We’re all that remains, Zero. Evac B is gone.’ 

He felt sure he should be crying right now. He wanted to. He wanted to scream and shout, tell the grey sky how unfair it all was. Leaning in, he rested his hands on Zero’s face, a motion that was usually comforting but today, it offered no comfort. It really was just them. 

‘Hey, kiddo?’ A strange voice made him look up. Despite tears slow to come, his eyes were red as if he’d been crying for hours. The fennec turned slowly. 

Before him was a figure in a trench coat. He wore a hard hat that had been yellow once but dirt turned it a yellow-brown. He had a face but it was obscured by a mask so his voice had come through it rather thickly. On his back was a radio similar to the one Eugene carried. He was also short by virtue f being slightly hunched over, which made Eugene have to look down for the source of the voice..

‘Are you…’ Eugene began, stuttering a little as he found his tongue. 

‘The one on the radio? That’s me.’ The figure saluted. ‘Said I’d meet you here. But we have to get moving. It’s not safe here now.’

Eugene shook his head violently and took one step forward. ‘No. I’m not going until I know. You said you’d help me on the radio.’ He wagged a finger in front of the mask angrily. ‘I need to know where the convoy was. Now! I was catching up!’ He switched to kneeling suddenly, gripping the figure’s shoulders in a way that said so much more than words of his yearning. ‘Please. Tell me. Where did they go? I need to find them. I need to tell them what happened. Please!’

His grip was wrenched away and the figure took a step back. ‘Don’t touch me like that ever again.’ He hissed and brought out somewhere a long stick made of ash. ‘You get this next time you think about trying it.’

The fennec stood hurriedly and held up his hands. He hadn’t meant to. Or maybe he had just wanted to touch someone else living, have them know his distress. Either way, he backed off. ‘I’m sorry! I’m.. I’m sorry, okay? Look. I was a few days behind. I just need to find them-’

‘You won’t.’ The voice said simply but with some resentment. They’re long gone. They travelled fast and they were wise too. You feel how the air is here? Stay in it long enough and you’ll risk death.’ The masked figure took a step closer. Did he suddenly look a little taller? ‘Why do you think I’m wearing this?’

He straightened out his coat. ‘Sure, I said I’d help. But there’s not much more I can do here kiddo. All I do is listen to the radio. For all I know they’ve gone elsewhere.’ He turned to go with a shrug. ‘If you know what’s good for you, follow me to safety and after that? It’s up to you.’

Eugene blinked. Had he heard that right? 

Then anger rose up within him and he strode around the retreating figure to block his way. ‘I don’t know if you understand where I’m coming from with this but I think you could stand to be a little more helpful.’ He was shaking. ‘I’m a scientist. We were due to meet here and then move on to our new location so we can damn well help whatever happened here! Out here, I have nothing, not even my group I left with! The only thing that remains of anything I’ve done is that automaton, my creation I built with my own hands.’ A finger pointed to Zero. The masked figure followed it then looked back at Eugene. 

‘So you may think you’re being helpful with this tough love attitude but honestly? I’ve had a tough few days. I think you could help a lot more than you’re doing right now and stop telling me to just accept that I’ve lost them! Because I haven’t!’

The mask turned to look at Zero again then back at Eugene. He leaned on the heavy wooden stick. ‘I know you’re a scientist and yeah, I know you all started your travelling. We’ve seen you all on the roads.’ He shrugged dismissively. ‘Fact is, half of you were going one way or another. I don't know what arrangements you made but honestly that was days ago. I meant it when I said that I just follow the radio. After that, I don't know where they go until days later. It’s not tough love, kid. It’s called being realistic.’ 

He patted Eugene’s arm as if trying to be friendly. ‘Listen, it may not look like I’m being helpful, but just trust me. It’s dangerous out here. The air ain’t good and I’m getting no younger standing out here. Come on.’

No. That couldn’t be it. From the outset, this exodus had been a failure. No. Wait. Maybe going up top had in fact been a failure. Maybe some of them were right. It was dangerous but not in the ways they said. 

It was dangerous because people just accepted what was given to them and didn’t challenge it. This radio hack had said he was being helpful but in fact, he had given up and accepted it. Eugene had been raised differently. What had their creed said? Help others, yes. Make it a better world, absolutely. But you didn’t get that by just accepting the first thing you heard. You had to challenge it.

There was a part of him that was trying to tap him on the metaphorical shoulder, that was saying that maybe they could reason this out somewhere not so exposed and if he could stop being so stubborn about it. The fennec was angry though. He’d had enough of this.

‘No.’ Eugene glared coldly at the mask. ‘Tell me where they are right now. I refuse to move unless you tell me.’

There was that strange feeling in the air again.

It was then that maybe the strangest thing Eugene had ever seen happened right before his eyes. 

The hard hat vanished, replaced by a large top hat in the bluest starkest hue he’d ever seen. Then the figure unfolded and the trench coat didn’t vanish so much as be absorbed into a new outfit. The coat became a jacket of multi-coloured swatches randomly sewn together with a bright red inner lining. Under that, a white shirt that was frilly and out of place in its sheer brightness. That was held in place with a lime green cravat on which a gem swirled different colours, slick as oil. The trousers were a bright purple and striped with what looked like impossible patterns. The newly formed bird feet were encased in a set of spats taht looked impractical for out here.

Behind him, a long feathered tail unfurled.

Then the figure’s eyes met Eugene’s behind a pair of spectacles balanced on what was now a beak that once had been a mask. The eyes were blank, nothing but sheer white. They radiated no comfort at all. 

And he was orange. He looked somewhat familiar.

He stood up fully and swung the stick dramatically in the air, now a handcrafted cane that had a bird detail in silver at the top. It looked strangely familiar too.

There was no flash of light or a dramatic sudden lightning clap from out of nowhere. There wasn’t even a wild cackling laugh that would somehow have made this all the more palatable. It was just the odd picking up of a breeze and silence that made this whole scene look very uncomfortable. 

‘I… Who are you?’ Eugene stammered, taking a step back. ‘What did you do with… you know? Him? The radio guy? Where’s he gone?’ He waved a hand uselessly, gesturing to where the mysterious bird figure stood. Then the figure smiled. It was an unpleasant smile. 

‘I’m afraid he had to check out. I’m… someone. Someone who’s taken a bit of an interest in your plight, I think you could say.’ He leaned on the cane. ‘Although you really really don’t listen, do you?’

The fennec couldn’t speak. He stuttered a few words then lapsed to silence. This bird was not the most assuming at first look but something about that smile, that look, it held him in fear. He had the horrible feeling that something was going to happen and he couldn’t talk his way out of it.

In the end, he finally said ‘But.. How?! Why me?’

The bird clicked his tongue as if somewhat impatient. ‘Do I need a reason? I just take an interest.’ 

Eugene was turned to the crater as the bird gripped his shoulder. ‘You know, your ancestors had such bright ideas. Terraforming an entire region to save it. Such a shame the device had a few flaws. A saviour machine.’ The bird tsked. ‘Even then… they didn’t listen.’ 

The bird had released him then glanced at Zero.

‘And your equine… all in the name of perfection for you lot, wasn’t it?’ His tone was derisive. ‘Probably not a single flaw in anything you do, right? Because that's your creed you’ll die by. Perfection or nothing.’ 

Eugene felt he’d been in a trance. This probably had been the strangest day so far. He’d relived memories he didn’t wan to remember. He’d found no one here and no sign of where they’d gone despite making up as much time ashe could. And now a strange bird that he’d vaguely seen and heard in dreams was giving him a lecture.

When he noticed the bird look at Zero, his protective instinct suddenly surged. Once again, anger laced his words. He snarled ‘Zero is perfect. And you’re wrong.’

The bird tilted his head. The smile had vanished for only a few seconds, briefly replaced by one of curious inquiry. He took one step towards Zero, who’d been stood in the same spot this whole time, watching the pair. 

‘I like to be proven wrong. So I’m guessing that this creature is not perfection?’ He noted Eugene look pained as he tried to answer. ‘The fact is, nothing is perfect. But the idea is there. You said it yourself. The world is nor perfect but some parts can be. And for you, with all your desires of achievement, this specimen is it. Have I got that right? I remember that was what you told Clint.’ 

Yes. He had said that, hadn’t he? Machines ran on logic and processes and Zero worked flawlessly. Clint had asked him and he’d said that, pretty much. Give or take a few words different, but yes. The fennec’s brow wrinkled. ‘Clint… How do you know Clint?’

‘As if you haven’t figured it out by now.’ The bird scoffed and turned back to Eugene. ‘You’ve got a brain. Come on. How would I know Clint? It’s really quite simple when you think about it.’ He leaned over in a mock-whisper. ‘I’ll give you a hint. Be careful what you wish for.’

Eugene could feel his brain operating like it was running on molasses. He did have a brain, and he’d prove it but on the spot, right there? He felt he’d forgotten everything. Oaky. So he had to think. The voice sounded similar. The look wasn’t but he recalled he could have sworn he felt something strange about Clint. There’d been his strange shadow. He struck out hopelessly, feeling lost. 

‘You were… him…?’

The bird nodded along with him in the way you would follow along with an idiot.. ‘I was indeed. Well done!’ He snapped his fingers as if in some sort of celebration. The air somehow changed and this time Eugene felt it. ‘The point still stands by the way! You wished for perfection. But you never quite specified how you wanted it.’ His expression changed quickly to one of sudden horrific realisation before the smile returned and this time, coupled with the bright white pupilless eyes, it looked horrible. ‘Consider your wish granted.’

He brought both hands on Eugene’s chest. There was a white light that lasted a microsecond then it was just Eugene and Zero on the road. The orange bird had vanished. 

Eugene fell backwards on the road then stood up quickly. He looked around then up wildly. Then soaring up, he noticed it. A light trailing behind an orange crow that now looked like a normal one with wings and… a longer tail and burning bright white eyes. 

Amid the cackling caws that became quieter, he made out ‘I did say I’d help you! Hee hee!’ Then the sky was empty. 

Eugene stared upwards. Then he leaned against Zero. 

‘Why.. Why is this happening? All I wanted was for us to find our friends.’ He stroked the face gently, the metal familiar and comforting despite it all. ‘And what did he mean by being careful what I wish for? I mean, who wouldn’t want to be you?’ Zero seemed to lean in. Eugene smiled. 

‘Look. We have to-’ He blinked. 

He’d been stroking the EQUUS unit on the long snout, a gesture he found more reassuring than anything. But the touch seemed to have changed. His fingers had tingled for but a moment then the sound of smooth metal on metal could be faintly made out. 

He drew his left hand to view then wordlessly gasped. The tips were changing. The digits moved like well oiled joints. Fur receded to become a smooth surface and claws went from normal keratin-based to shiny and metallic. No more soft pads on the fingers or palm; instead a substance like how he’d made Zero’s snout and lips. 

He flexed his fingers and watched them move with smooth motion. Not a sound, just the metallic tendons flexing and moving as they should to generate motion in the long digits. 

The motion entranced him. As his eyes followed the metall, he suddenly recoiled.

‘What… Zero, what…? What’s happening?!’

Was it just his left hand? He drew up his right hand and yelped.  

The right hand was now looking more like the left. The fur texture had vanished, replaced by a metal sheen. The metal was moving, taking his arms apart from the paws up. It looked like mercury with how it was flowing and glinting in the dull light out here but it moved with purpose, inexorably onward.

Where it met bone and muscle, it replaced it with a fine metallic frame taht echoed each muscle’s shape and moulded itself around a central structure inside that cabling wrapped itself around. The fur was melted away into it as though it were nothing.

The forearms were transformed and still the metal… What was it? A goo? Some kind of wasting away? In his panic, he tried to rationalise it. There was no way this was normal. 

‘N-no! What's happening?’ He screamed to the sky.

It wasn’t painful. It wasn’t even noisy. It was just happening in the dead silence and that was the worst of it.

He hastily looked down.

Now his feet and calves were undergoing the same metamorphosis. Starting at the toes, the change made them rip through the boots. Shredded leather couldn’t hide the feet changing from furred to a dull metallic sheen.

Horrified but fascinated. He could see it all. All the colour-coded cables for nerves and functions, all wrapped about one central core that he’d called a bone for lack of a better word. Then the protective covering and the fine layer on top that made the metal look more natural. This was exactly how he’d put Zero together. 

And it was happening to him.

Anger had faded, replaced by confusion and shock. There was some awe in that as well but each time the mercury-like flow moved onwards, it was quickly replaced by a confusing mix of revulsion, fear and confusion. 

He was becoming perfect. He was becoming Zero! 

But he hadn’t wanted it like this. His mind was frantic. Yes, he had wanted to be perfect like Zero! But he’d have worked on that in his own time!  Zero was Zero though, it was perfect as is! 

Despairing, he looked up. He looked for anything, a sign, for the bird to come back, anything!

What he got was more horror. 

Zero had stood still this whole time. It had simply observed, not being commanded at any point. As to whether it had felt any emotion at all from any of the exchange earlier was debatable. It had simply waited for instruction.

It now looked different. Just as Eugene was finding his limbs encased in metal, Zero’s limbs were now engulfed in a wave of what could only be described as realness. In fact, those hooves… They were real! They were not his complex metal construction! That had taken weeks to perfect! Those were real hooves, just like in the books! 

From there, each limb was looking more and more real as fine fur accelerated its way up each leg in a sea of softness. The breeze caught the edges of the fur and flicked it about as it passed. 

Eugene realised with horror what was happening. He scrambled up. 

‘No, no, no! This isn’t what I wished for!’ He glared at the sky where the bird had vanished. ‘Zero was fine as it was! I wanted to be perfect! I wanted to be like Zero! How hard was that to understand?’

His screams went unheard. He tried to touch the metal horse or what remained of metal in the hope the change would revert it back to the metallic perfection it represented. All that happened was the change marched on. 

His arms and legs were now fully replaced by metal. The substance now slid up to the base of his tail. He groaned as a tug signalled his tail had splayed into a thousand cables then spun back to create a flowing yet silvery exterior.

Now he did hurt. It was a dull ache, such as the sort he’d get from over-exertion. This hurt. Not so much physically but in terms of emotion and how he was processing it, it was torture. He couldn’t take much more. Now he just wanted it over. 

The worst part was that he could feel everything. 

From the cold of the substance that was changing him, to the cables that ran through him, the curling of toes that had ripped through his boots, the new legs stretching the tan shorts… the new sensation of his chest tightening that made him grasp the thin shirt and tear it off. 

He whimpered as the fur flattened and the formless chest that he’d seen his dream was in its place. The crack that parted it, a hint to the doorway that opened it up like a cupboard, was barely visible. 

The shorts tore. Not that it mattered. He was as sexless as a doll there now as the metal crept slowly on its way to remoulding his chest, stomach and back. The spine had to go, replaced by interlocking plates that moved as he did. These snapped into place and he swore he felt one final crick of his back before the change was complete.

Cold was replaced by heat. He was as warm as Zero was with the engine that powered it. Not a hot warmth like a fire but a steady one, more like a radiator. The heat spilled out to his limbs and tail and he new what would happen next. 

Zero had temperature controls in the head that allowed the body to be regulated. If it got too hot, the relays sent the command to cool down and it was near instant. He wasn’t there yet. Right now, he could just feel the heat and… ah yes, there it was.

Eugene felt his breathing shift. He was still breathing but now, it felt more… 

It reminded him of the machines they had developed underground. It was a mock-up of a lung essentially and it breathed for someone in dire cases. They’d existed before but not widely known. It had taken a lot of work to get as right as it could be and it always made a sound that was akin to a rhythmic whooshing.

This was what he was experiencing right now. It was as if he was in an artificial lung. It felt tight. He felt tears of fear cascade down a cheek that was rapidly becoming smooth metal. Once again, he collapsed, trying one last ditch attempt to fight the changes that sped towards his head and lastly, his mind.. 

Zero looked on. Echoing the change from furred to metallic, from flesh to robot, so too did Zero. Its master writhed with mingled emotion and screamed at the changes to stop. But Zero had never had emotions. They were to be built in later but otherwise there had been no need. 

Panels gave way to fine silvery-white fur. The tail had fanned out in its constituent parts and then internal cables and metal had become a long fine flowing tail. The spine was structured and instead of interlocking pilates, interlocking bone. Cables became nerves and wove over the new structure under the soft fur.

And just like Eugene’s change, the head was slowly and surely changing last. Zero’s ears flicked. The antennae inside shrank and then could be seen no longer. The eyes blinked. No more red but a dark brown with a long slit pupil that scanned the horizon. 

Finally…

Within, Zero felt the blood pulse. It lifted a hoof and the resounding clop in the silence echoed. Another hoof clop and a swish of the tail. 

Before this, Zero had felt things. It was mostly commands and inputs, electricity coursing through it. And over the last few days of travel, the changes had been barely perceptible. More than once, the metallic panels that merely echoed muscle had shifted to move and behave like it before inexplicably reverting back.

Come to think of it. It had been since they met Clint. 

Zero blinked. It was thinking now. It remembered things. Roads. Forests. Various stops and then a small place its master had stopped at with a stranger. It remembered conversations it couldn’t understand but felt familiar and gentle. 

The blink caused Eugene to groan. 

‘Z-Zero…!’ It was his last word.

The metal was taking over, his face mostly a metallic sea of smoothness. Even his teeth had adapted to become prongs of rounded metal points set in the jaw, which swung open with a whine as his tongue reformed in the same material that Zero’s had been. 

What was that? What had the dream said? He vaguely recalled it before his mind was awash with a sea of metal, electricity and a sudden disconnection from the fear overwhelming him. 

Oh yes. It was always the mind that went last.

Now only the breeze could be heard. It was picking up.

On the torn up road around the crater, the newly formed horse, the runfast, the live and former EQUUS unit lifted its hooves and began to canter away from the sound of buzzing in the distance, ears pricked backwards. It then left the road altogether. Some innate sense of danger, born into all horses, told it to flee to safety. By the time the biker gang had arrived at the scene of the change, Zero was long gone into the fields. 

On the road, the fennec formerly known as Eugene was a crumpled heap of metal. Limbs were wrapped tight close, arms about the legs to draw them into the chest. The head rested on the asphalt, eyes lidded shut. The antennae that had sprouted forth from the ears remained still. 

The buzzing resumed. The road was deserted. The bikers hadn’t stuck around. The sight of what appeared to them to be a robot left out in the wastes was too big a risk they’d decided on they had continued on their way.

Gradually limbs unwound and the new fox, with the word FENC-001 emblazoned its side stood up. 

It looked at the crater. For a moment, it crouched, looking in with some curiosity. Then it stood up. It was sunset. As it looked into a fading sun, three birds flew overhead and for a moment they crossed the sun in the sky, forming dark and distant shapes that faded away. 

Fiery reds and purples washed over the smooth metalwork of FENC-001. It seemed to regard the sunset then began to walk. It had a destination in mind. A place called Birmingham. 

A long trip but it had the stamina to walk for days. It could make a start.