《Shattered Age - A Tale of Glimmer and Steel (A Crafting Fallour Post-Apocalypse Gamelit)》


 Chapter 1

    My eyes were focused on a bench, a vise grip, and a very stubborn piece of paint-peeled first-tier mech gauntlet. The hand just didn¡¯t want to close no matter how I calibrated it. Some of the joints were creaking and sparks flew all around the workshop when I tried to force it close.


    ¡°Why are you being so difficult!¡± I yelled, throwing my arms up in protest and almost knocking an old warped ResTech sword from its place on the wall. ¡°A five-credit job...yeah, right! Next time I¡¯ll tell him to go¡ª¡±


    A shrill wail of sirens coming from outside cut through my curse and stopped my train of thought. It was enough of a surprise that I jerked away from the robotic hand and hit my head on the hanging rack above. Luckily, there was a small monster corpse swinging in the chains or I could have had a very nasty headache.


    Waaaaaa, the siren screeched with its full-throated blare, and it didn¡¯t do much to cut through the momentary pain that shot through my skull.


    ¡°Could have been worse,¡± I grunted and looked around the shop to see the result of my blunder.


    Several tools had fallen to the ground when I jerked away from the mech hand. An inner war raged within me for a split second as I didn¡¯t want to miss the monster attack, yet I¡¯d promised myself to always keep a clean workshop.


    With a deep sigh, I hurriedly grabbed them off the floor and started sliding them into their slots and spaces, dodging the gel-filled canister of ungrown crystals and shredded organics, before hurriedly tap-dancing around the rest of the workspace.


    I looked around the workshop one more time, and once I was satisfied that everything was in place, headed out the door. The sun¡¯s position told me it was already noon, so the pickings were bound to be good if the monster didn¡¯t get too badly damaged.


    Across my workshop, other craftsmen were shuttering their stores and locking their doors, quickly stowing the symbols of their trade within until the monster event had passed.


    I smiled, happy for my location. Other scavengers didn¡¯t have workshop real estate, for one thing, living out in the quick-build hovels of the Scavenger District. And secondly, most of them would be out for lunch during this time, which gave me an obvious advantage in securing a scavenging spot.


    I chuckled, picturing faces I knew scampering about and desperately cramming half-eaten lunches into carry bags and travel sacks from where they¡¯d been sitting under ragged prewar billboards showing oddities like SmartTime Travel and Queen Burger Deluxe.


    ¡°What are you just standing there for, Alaric?¡± a sweetly annoying voice said from behind. ¡°Want to join this beauty on the wall and see some monsters getting smashed?¡±


    I turned, already knowing who¡¯d spoken. Ellinor stood there in her white overalls and gray leather engineering apron. Her face was blackened by grease and her black hair pulled back into a wispy half-cocked ponytail. She¡¯d obviously been in the thick of some mechanical tick-tock going from her looks, as she always tried to keep up appearances. Even while working on machines and mechs.


    Behind her steamed the stone-metal mess of her parts shop, an ever-growing part-time monstrosity that she frequently decorated with old-world signs and scavenge. The newest find was a gaudy pinup poster, its laminated half-clad woman still in pristine condition despite the hundreds of years that had passed.


    Elli gave me a saucy grin as she noticed where I was looking.


    ¡°Good, right?¡± she asked with a wink.


    I nodded. Wasn¡¯t bad to look at for sure. And it helped set off the fact that most of it was a multi-colored, ugly monstrosity of a building that jutted at weird angles. An old rusting vending machine marked Ride the Wide ¡ª WideTaste Cola held up one corner of her shop, and I wondered what would happen when it finally toppled.


    She spent a lot of time there, only leaving it vacant when she had a mech order to fill in her uptown bays. I hated to think she might be inside that place when it gave in.


    I took a deep breath, ready to tell her that the place needed to be broken down and started anew when she put a finger to my lips to silence me. Her crooked grin told me she was happy for the break, and that this wasn¡¯t the time for nagging. Looking at her beaming face, I realized I was happy about it too.


    I shot her a grin and crooked my elbow.


    ¡°My lady. May I have the honor?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Oh, stuff a second-tier helmet on that business,¡± she scowled, though her eyes glittered playfully in the light of the blazing sun. ¡°I ain¡¯t no lady, and you know that.¡±


    ¡°That remains to be seen,¡± I said, winking. ¡°I still haven¡¯t been in your bed chamber.¡±


    ¡°And you never will at this rate! All you do is deny me the pleasure of bedding you, crazy man. Anyway, let¡¯s go. I want a spot on the gate before it gets too crowded.¡±


    ¡°Considering how late we are, I don¡¯t think we¡¯ll be as lucky.¡±


    ¡°Race you!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s so unlady-like!¡± I yelled after her as she bolted off up the street.


    I rushed after her, tearing over old tech pavement patched with cracked cobblestone and through the thickening street crowds, trying to keep up. Despite being built like a noble with a pale complexion and delicate features, she was a devil in all ways that mattered.


    We raced past food vendors and street hawkers, jumping over an old-cloaked beggar, and twirled past a whole gaggle of mothers with their tots.


    The city around us buzzed with excitement, a chaotic symphony of sounds and movements, old tech and new whistling and grinding as machines were shut down in obeisance to the coming confrontation. The sun, high in the sky, cast sharp shadows that danced around them, adding to the frenzied energy of the moment.


    The streets were filled with people of all sorts, most quite dirty and poorly-dressed, others wearing craft attire and the appropriate stains, and even a single plutocrat was there. He was a man in a fine blue gentleman¡¯s coat with white ruffles, daintily making his way to a rickshaw cab to presumably see the action from the first row.


    Vendors shouted over each other, trying to hawk their wares to the excited crowd. The smell of roasting meat and fresh bread mingled with the dusty air, and as I watched, Ellinor grabbed a loaf from one merchant¡¯s hand, while handing her credit chip with the other. The man caught it deftly, ran it across a scanner, and handed it back to her, flashing her a thumbs-up.


    Running and dodging, we made our way around a group of children being scooted together by an elderly nanny in the plain white-and-black clothes of a childminder, their excitement and laughter ringing in my ears almost as loud as the blaring sirens from earlier.


    Ellinor, now a few steps behind, skillfully maneuvered past a cart laden with fruits, the vendor barely glancing up as she whizzed by him and into the grass and trees of Worker Park. We swung past its ancient, lettered free-standing gates, past where the fences would have once been, and through sparsely-forested lawns.


    ¡°How are you so fast while still eating?¡± I yelled after her as she kept slightly ahead of me.


    She skidded to a halt, and I almost bumped into her as we turned hard around the corner and into the denser, more eager crowd standing around the gate. Spectators jostled for position, trying to secure a spot with a clear view of the upcoming battle.


    A group of knights passed by us, their massive forms towering several feet above us like ogres from children''s stories. The crowd jostled and shoved, hurriedly moving out of their way. They all wore plated armor and helmets aside from the White Knight, as people called him. Leopold Bassewitz was his name, and he marched helmetless. His blue eyes and long golden hair shone lovingly in the rays of the cloudless sky.


    The knight headed straight for his mech, a heavy 50-ton Cataphract that jingled chain barding off its broad old-tech chassis. It didn¡¯t look much different than he did, a knight in heavy armor wearing a shield in one hand and a sword in the other, only many times larger.


    ¡°Come on, this way!¡± Ellinor shouted over the din, grabbing my hand and pulling me through a narrow gap between two groups of onlookers standing on the sidewalk. They moved out of the way seeing she was an engineer by her clothes and the cap narrowly hanging on atop her head.


    We reached the base of the city wall as the mechs started moving within the barracks and made their way out onto the main road further leading out through the gate. With quick steps, we ascended the stairs leading to the top of the gate. The steps were worn and hundreds of years old, yet stronger than anything the people could make today. Their worn edges made them daring to climb fast-footed, so not many would follow after us.


    At the top, we were greeted by a wall of bodies, spectators who had arrived earlier as if they¡¯d known there would be a monster incursion. Ellinor pushed forward, her elbows creating a path for us.


    One man made a turn, saw Ellinor, took in her large frame and greasy leather mechanic¡¯s apron and cap, then backed out of her way.


    I chuckled, knowing that her position certainly came with its privileges.


    After some more pushing around, we emerged at the edge of the gate, a tiny sliver of edge to plop down on and dangle our legs from while taking in the battlefield before us. The vast expanse beyond the city walls stretched out, a stark contrast to the cramped streets we just navigated.


    ¡°This is gonna be a good day, Al,¡± Ellinor wheezed, trying to breathe through her nose and mouth at the same time.


    Elli snorted, which only made her look even less ladylike, and more like another me. She ruffled my hair as I grinned at her, knowing very well I hated it. A smudge of sticky sludge caught on my forehead, which I promptly wiped off and smeared across her cheek.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    ¡°That is just plain nasty, Al. You don¡¯t do that to a lady!¡±


    ¡°Lady? Where? I thought you said you were no lady and I should know better. Just minutes ago you offered to bed me,¡± I protested.


    ¡°Yes, but that¡¯s when we¡¯re alone! There are other people here and if they see my dirty face, I¡¯ll never get a cute husband! Or a lover!¡±


    I sighed and shook my head, only to get hit in the shoulder yet again.


    ¡°Just teasing ya. I don¡¯t need no cute man, I got you. Well, if you stop being a little bitch and hook up with me one day before I get old.¡±


    ¡°Not interested in the slightest to marry up, your ladyship. Also, you¡¯re too much of a tomboy and not cute at all with all that grease on your face.¡±


    ¡°B¡ªbut that was your fault!¡±


    ¡°Hush already, we¡¯re gonna miss the battle and you¡¯re annoying the people.¡±


    ¡°What people?¡± she asked and looked past me. Nobody paid us any attention. ¡°No wonder you¡¯re still single, you fool,¡± she mumbled and settled in next to me, leaning her shoulder against mine.


    I ignored her, not interested in the slightest in hooking up with anyone. At least not for now. There were far more important things I needed to do before even thinking about connecting with someone on an emotional level. Maybe down the line as we¡¯d been friends for years, but I meant what I said. I wouldn¡¯t use anyone to get ahead in life, even if it was just a small step. I wanted to be the one to pull others up alongside me, no matter how stupid it sounded.


    The barracks were a hive of activity, with support staff uncoupling the fighting mechs and helping the knights up the long ladders that led to the loading platforms. The stylish and highly polished pearl-white of their armor gleamed wildly in the bright sun. It made it hard to watch them directly, yet no one looked away as the White Knight moved his mech.


    These were some of the champions of Alnda, the great heroes of the fields and waters of the Principality of Erondas, and the digits and fingers of Duke Harold Merseburg himself. When they rode out, everyone knew we were in trouble.


    As the knights entered their towering Cataphracts, five in total, with a dozen smaller 30-ton Toxotai ballistic support mechs already saddled and standing at the ready, attention turned to the newcomers. They were massive monstrosities pushing into the fighting field that separated the farms to one side, and the forests and ruins to the other. The only thing worth protecting just as much as the nobility were the farms as there was no life without crops. Entire cities had fallen after leaving their farms to be overrun by monsters.


    ¡°Boo to the scratch-feeders!¡± Ellinor called, her hands cupped to the sides of her mouth.


    More jeers and catcalls joined hers, with the people of the city crying their own hate for the creatures from beyond. They had caused death on an unprecedented scale, destroying entire cities and killing millions across the world. Or so the stories went.


    I stared at them as I usually did, lost in the alienness of their being. The monsters lumbering across the fields had been the stuff of nightmares when I¡¯d first seen them as a toddler, huddled between the knees of my mother. That was before they died, and before I¡¯d been taken in and given food, lodging, and tutelage by the Scavenger¡¯s Guild. It was only thanks to them that I retained the workshop of my dead parents.


    The three monsters were colossal, easily dwarfing the city¡¯s wall. It was a wonder that they were even able to move given how much weight their armor and massive muscles added to their figures. But that was part of their whole strangeness, how they could step lightly across the plains without leaving nary a footprint, how they could sidestep attacks with very little effort.


    ¡°This one¡¯s worth watching for sure,¡± Ellinor said excitedly, and I had to agree. Not only because of the battle but because of what would come afterward. The scavenging. That¡¯s why we¡¯d come, after all.


    ¡°Can¡¯t wait to dig in,¡± I said, patting her knee.


    She raised an eyebrow at me and smirked.


    ¡°Getting a bit too grabby with your hands, Loverboy.¡±


    ¡°Shut it, you with your smudged face. Who would even want you?¡± I shot back with a grin.


    I turned back to the monsters. Today was an interesting day as creatures that big usually didn¡¯t come in packs or even smaller groups. They came alone.


    We eyed the trio. Though all three of them had the distinctive crop-eating shovel snouts, their bodies couldn¡¯t be more different.


    The first resembled a gargantuan serpent, its body rippling beneath dark, iridescent blue scales that shimmered with a rainbow gleam as it shifted position to tear new tracts in the soil. Its scales were so densely packed that they appeared impenetrable. Almost like a shield forged from the night sky itself. Its eyes were large and glowed an electric green. They held a depth of intelligence that was unsettling even from this far out.


    The second monster was more ambulatory, its body supported by four thick, tree-trunk-like legs. Its skin was a patchwork of rough hide and bony plates, each a different hue of earthy brown and moss green, creating a natural camouflage against the backdrop of the forests and fields. The creature, however, stood out against the azure blue of the horizon, head dipped down into the waving stalks of wild grain. A crest of jagged spikes rose like a crown from the top of its skull. The eyes of this monster glowed the same electric green but with a wild, uncontrolled ferocity.


    The third was the most alien of them all, insect-like with a multitude of legs that clicked loudly as it moved. Despite the sharp spear-like endings of its appendage, only its shovel-mouth left any trace that it had even been there. The monster¡¯s body was covered in an oversized scale that was translucent and shimmering, occasionally giving all of us a direct view of its ugly black and gray pulsing innards as it shifted from patch to patch, trying to get any food into its maw. The head resembled a long beak with eyes and shark teeth, which made it look even more unsettling. The last pair of eyes were just as green as those of the other monsters, and it only made sense.


    Greens worked with greens, reds with reds, and yellows with yellows. Monsters never packed with other colors, even when they were the same body type.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen these kinds before,¡± I admitted, nudging Elli with my shoulder. ¡°You know that I¡¯ve never gone out to scavenge the big ones, right?¡±


    Elli whistled.


    ¡°Those monsters out there, they¡¯re in a whole lot of trouble,¡± she joked. ¡°They¡¯re all greenies, and the snake is a Slythra, while the four-legger is a Terrabrax and the insect is a Glimmerhusk. All of them are tough as nails out in the wild, but our guys¡¯ll get ¡®em easy. Or we¡¯re all dead anyway, so not much to worry about.¡±


    ¡°Greens. Yeah, they¡¯re among the more feral types, I know. It¡¯s just that I don¡¯t recognize their species. Which makes me wonder if I should write some kind of guide for idiots like myself.¡±


    Each monster emitted a low, resonant sound, a mix of growls, clicks, and hisses that echoed across the long distance.


    The mechs thundered out of the city, making their way through the gate and heading along the single road that allowed something as heavy as a Cataphract to move without issues. The Toxotai joined them and just then the air around the monsters began to shimmer, almost like the air above hot pavement on an incredibly hot summer¡¯s day.


    ¡°It¡¯s too early,¡± Elli said with a hushed hiss. ¡°The monsters shouldn¡¯t have even noticed them yet! Or have they? Why are they all aggressive? Maybe it¡¯s¡ª¡±


    Cheers began to rise on all sides of the battlements and from the ground below and behind us, drowning our thoughts. Stomping forward and leaving heavy footprints in their wake, the Cataphracts marched first. Towering at an impressive height, these mechs were a blend of new-tech and old, the sort of thing only the nobles and plutocrats could afford, and rare enough to have fantastic specials in combat.


    Their broad, old-tech chassis were wrapped in thick links of chain, mimicking the chainmail worn by foot soldiers. Unlike the new-tech mechs, the Cataphracts moved without whining gears or grinding driveshafts, their joints expertly articulated for taking abuse from monsters, but they were still quick enough to outmaneuver lumbering monstrosities. The shoulder plates were engraved with heraldic symbols, reflecting the noble lineage of the knight inside each of the machines.


    The five Cataphracts clutched a massive blade in their right hand, and an equally massive shield in their left. Three of them wore axes on their backs, one a mace, and the White Knight had a battle hammer as a secondary weapon. Their helmet-shaped heads, with narrow slits for visual sensors, locked onto the monsters, watching them for their reaction as they marched.


    Behind them came the Toxotai. They were leaner, smaller, and more agile, and usually piloted by lesser nobles or those lucky enough to get their hands on a growth core. They were equally white but wore ballista and chain sickles on their backs so they could trap and attack monsters from afar. Toxotai were the ones who would usually drive the monsters into place, allowing the Cataphracts to corner and kill their opponents.


    The smaller mech were without barding and instead of heraldry, their shoulders sported the badge of the Duke, and the Principality of Erondas. The plate armor of their design was noticeably thinner and weaker, and I¡¯d seen more than once just how weak it was when meeting oversized monsters.


    The ballista they carried was large enough that they needed both hands to wield it properly. All four eyes on every Toxotai locked onto the monsters in the same way the Cataphracts had, then began to fan out to the flanks, seven going to each side.


    ¡°This is going to be so good!¡± Elli squealed. ¡°Want to make a bet? I¡¯ll be your girlfriend for a week if you win, and you will have to be¡ªwhat?¡± she asked as I shot her a confused look, but then turned back toward the battle.


    The Cataphracts had drawn their swords and were ready to strike and bring tons of monster bone and steel down on the three creatures.


    ¡°Focus, Elli. You¡¯re losing it.¡±


    ¡°Ahh, yes,¡± she muttered, leaning back into me yet again.


    With a sudden burst of speed, the lead Cataphract charged, its shield raised high. The ground trembled beneath its weight, and we could feel it even from where we sat, our legs and feet dangling off the gate.


    The mechs¡¯ blades flared, yellow-orange heat rippling through them as the first monster, the serpent, reared back as if preparing to dart forward again. The other monsters stopped their grazing, regarding the incoming mechs with bared, sharpened teeth.


    Pounding forward, the squad of Cataphracts barreled in a V-formation. Despite being monsters of the same coloring, their more basic and feral instincts told them to fight by themselves. They began to spread out instead of bunching up together, just as the Cataphracts fired volleys of sparking electric lances. Ballista bolts started hammering down on the insect-like monster then, every Toxotai targeted the same creature. One of the bolts managed to pierce its chitinous head; it staggered and fell, but was still far from dead.


    The lead Cataphract swung his blade, aiming for the serpentine monster next to keep it away. The beast reared back, its iridescent scales glinting, and let out a hissing roar. The blade struck home, a deafening clang echoing as metal met scale. Sparks flew in all directions as the blade superheated and dug into its flesh, burning it.


    The battlefield erupted into a chaotic dance of metal giants and monstrous beasts with the four-legged monster charging at a Cataphract, its bony plates rattling. The mech braced for impact, angling its shield slightly and away from itself. It absorbed the brunt of the collision, the monster''s jaws snapped shut inches from the mech''s visor, the sound like a crack of thunder.


    The Cataphract¡¯s blade flashed and came down on the monster¡¯s neck, but bounced off as there hadn¡¯t been enough power behind the blow. What it did, though, was put the creature on the defensive and create an opening for the smaller mechs.


    A Toxotai, seizing the opportunity, darted in and released a bolt at close range. The projectile embedded itself in the creature''s flank, causing it to bellow in rage and pain as surges of electricity paralyzed it in place. The mech retreated just as quickly, narrowly avoiding a swipe of the beast''s massive claw as more Toxotai threw their chained sickles at the creature to try and root it in place.


    Above the fray and with our feet dangling from the gate, we watched with genuine awe. There was a clear and rather large difference between the usual knights and The Whites.


    Three Toxotai drew the snake-like monster away, leaving the insect to deal with three Cataphracts and four other Toxotai. The larger mechs used their shields to box it in from three sides, almost in a loose crescent, while the support mechs delivered constant ranged attacks that disabled both hind legs. The slightly larger lead Cataphract surged forward, bringing his blade up and through the monster¡¯s chin. It was just long enough to pass through bone and into the brain.


    ¡°There goes the first! And what a clean kill!¡± Elli cried, imitating arena announcers. She got to her feet and offered me a hand. I took it and stood as she danced in place.


    The first monster was dead, and by the time the larger group could even round on the second monster, the four-legged creature with a ballista bolt stuck in its skull was held by three other Toxotai. Their chain sickles were stuck in the ground and kept the monster in place. A moment later, it fell to the other two Cata¡¯s as they brought their blades down on the neck and cut the head off. The crowd around us erupted into another victorious cheer and a knowing look passed between us.


    ¡°Scavenging time!¡± we said in unison and hurried back down to the gate.


    Neither of us saw how the snake monster fell, but that didn¡¯t matter. The only thing more important than living through an attack was to get out and scavenge the creatures to earn some credits and junk no one else needed.

 Chapter 2

    The air was still tinged with the electric charge of excitement. Once the beasts died, people stopped cheering. I could feel the atmosphere shift towards a more somber tone, one that always set in after the show: reality.


    We moved swiftly through the thinning crowd, our minds already turning to the tasks that lay ahead. It¡¯d been a good monster fight but being a spectator didn¡¯t pay the bills and put food on the table. Only hard work did. Time equaled credits after all.


    As we navigated through the dispersing masses, the stern voices of city guards cut through the lingering chatter. Clad in their imposing armor and lightly enhanced by the monster seeds or small crystals dredged from monster flesh, the guards moved with a practiced and supernatural efficiency. Their presence was a sobering reminder of everyone¡¯s place and duty to the empire and crown.


    ¡°Back to your stations! All of you! Get back to work!¡± one of the guards bellowed, his voice carrying abnormally clear and far. ¡°The festivities are over! Any dawdling and it will be the brig or half-pay for the day!¡±


    People hastened their steps, expressions shifting from relaxed contentment to resigned acceptance. A few muttered, but the majority kept their heads down as they skittered away, hurrying back to the factories and stills of their various crafts. It was a very humbling experience, as no matter how much we thought that we were a part of this place, the reality was that we only served its rulers.


    Ellinor and I quickened our steps, eyes focused on the path ahead.


    ¡°Hurry up, slowpoke!¡± Ellinor shot over her shoulder as she seemed to dance her way forward. It was almost a delight to watch her. ¡°Or we¡¯ll be late to bid for the scavenging!¡±


    Pushing through the city¡¯s massive gate, we entered the defensive zone, a no-man¡¯s land that bore silent witness to numerous past skirmishes. There, amidst the tall grass, rock piles, and many dilapidated farms, history lingered in the form of old trenches and abandoned fieldworks.


    My stride shifted and steps became long and swift, honed by years of navigating the treacherous terrain beyond the wall, all in the pursuit of monster remains. Usually, it had been smaller and much weaker monsters, but this time was different.


    Ellinor matched my pace effortlessly, her eyes scanning the landscape with an engineer¡¯s precision. We were in a race against time and competition, and behind us, a motley crew of other scavengers followed. Their steps were less assured and expressions a m¨¦lange of frustration and determination. They were the slower ones, those who were too old to keep up or who hadn¡¯t quite mastered the art of rapid traversal over uneven ground. Most of them were older men and women that despite being veterans of many monster dismantlers, couldn¡¯t keep up with the younger generation.


    Ahead, the Toxotai mechs, sleek and imposing, stood guard over the carcasses. Their presence was a necessary precaution to ensure that the processing would go smoothly and people wouldn¡¯t become greedy. Even if it was just for a small piece of meat that could be processed into power pills or medicine.


    Beside the translucent remains of the Glimmerhusk, a massive pearl-white Cataphract was stationed, the pilot nonchalantly perched against its metallic hull. A loosely rolled cigarette burned in his fingers as he eyed the scavengers heading for the monsters with disdain. And why wouldn¡¯t he? In their eyes, it was the mech pilots who did all the work and we were there to pick up the scraps.


    The funny thing? He wasn¡¯t even wrong¡­


    I looked back down to the Glimmerhusk with a scavenger¡¯s keen interest. The creature¡¯s iridescent carapace shimmered in the sunlight. Something about the monster spoke to me, almost as if calling my name and promising me a great reward if I only answered.


    ¡°There,¡± I said, pointing to the corpse. ¡°Let¡¯s do the Glimmerhusk. Imagine if we got lucky and snagged a phase core. That¡¯d get us a lot of cred, even if we shared.¡±


    Ellinor¡¯s eyes lit up and she wiggled her eyebrows.


    ¡°Maybe they¡¯d even let me take it as my cut? I¡¯ve never machined a mech with phasal displacement.¡±


    Her eyes shone at the thought and we tore sideways at an angle, leaping over an old fallen-in trench to reach our location. I laughed at how she twirled like a dancer. Despite her insistence on not being ladylike, Ellinor¡¯s behavior said otherwise.


    The monster looked harmless with its brain blown away, but I¡¯d heard stories about death twitches or monsters pretending to be dead so they could take a mech along for a ride into the afterlife. The Cataphract pilot casually flicked the butt of his cigarette to the ground, eyeing us and the stream of other scavengers trailing behind with mild curiosity. A few people had made it ahead of us, but Ellinor and I were well within the time limit to get scavenging rights on any of the three dead monsters.


    My grip tightened on my tool bag, already imagining our possible haul. A slow scavenger was a hungry one, and a lippy scavenger was a dead one. I kept my mouth shut and just kept moving.


    I turned to the Glimmerhusk once we stood in line, searching for where to enter as we waited for the Central Bank¡¯s representative to talk to us. He was just done renting out a batch of tools, and from what I could see, only a few ripsaws remained. I grabbed her hand and pushed past two other scavengers.


    ¡°Day, good man,¡± I said, stopping in front of the rep. ¡°We¡¯d like to work on the Glimmerhusk.¡±


    ¡°The two of you?¡± he asked with a flat look. The man was rail thin and barely five feet tall, but well-clad. He wore a blue overall suit that symbolized the Central Bank and a cap that covered his eyes and face from the sun.


    ¡°Yes, the two of us. A ripsaw and a tool kit if you don¡¯t mind,¡± I said, offering the man an earnest smile. Being kind and respectful to people in power usually got you a better deal when scavenging, so I didn¡¯t mind swallowing a hint of my pride.


    Elli pinched my arm and I pulled away, scowling over my shoulder.


    ¡°A couple, huh?¡± the man mumbled. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll make you a deal. Fifteen credits for both.¡±


    My head snapped so fast my brain didn¡¯t have time to catch up.


    ¡°Fifteen?¡±


    ¡°What? Are you giving me lip, son?¡±


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t, sorry,¡± I said, raising my hands in defense. ¡°I thought it was going to be more, good man.¡±


    ¡°Nice save,¡± Elli whispered in my ear.


    The man pretended not to hear and held out his hand. I offered him my chip and he subtracted fifteen credits, then handed us two vouchers. One was for a toolbox and the other was for the ripsaw.


    ¡°You break them, you buy them,¡± he said, holding on to the vouchers for a second too long.


    ¡°We know, good man. This isn¡¯t the first time we¡¯re doing this.¡±


    He nodded toward the tool car and we hurried over, grabbing the gear and hurrying to the Glimmerhusk.


    Finding the best bits was as much luck as it was skill since the bodies were somewhat random. Gems and cores came from the chakra, which were easy enough to find. Monster heart, liver, arms, legs, hands, and feet were always a good dig through. The competition was fast so we didn¡¯t have much time to decide on an entry point.


    Luckily, Elli was a champ and had the favor of Mother Luck as she usually found a gem or two. Those good runs had sponsored her engineering projects at the Royal Assembly. And even though she hadn¡¯t graduated yet, her station in life left her a free woman with a rare engineer¡¯s cap that got her access to most places, a parts shop on my street, and a home in uptown complete with mech bays and a license to work on them. It was a giant step-up above all of us serfs that populated most of the city. Compared to her, I was the dirt beneath her boots. At least when it came to ¡®importance¡¯ to the city.


    We made our way to the fallen Glimmerhusk, deciding to dig through the creature''s translucent carapace. It had been the part that drew my eye and made me want to dig there in the first place.


    The knight stationed nearby briefly glanced over at us, his eyes showing just how much he loved being there in the midday heat. Unfazed by his gaze, we quickly set to work, unrolling the toolkit and setting up the ripsaw.


    The knight cleared his throat and raised an arm. We stopped and turned to face him, a dread quickly setting in my guts.


    ¡°Hey, vultures,¡± he said with a condescending tone. ¡°If you find a phasing gem, let me know. It¡¯s mine,¡± he said, staring at us with a fake smile. ¡°I need the level-up. Plan to go questing in the next season.¡±


    ¡°I¡­uhh--¡±


    Getting caught off my game wasn¡¯t something that usually happened, but the casual bully grab of the knights was something that seriously messed with earnings for people like me, and yet both the Central Bank and the Crown allowed it.


    A phasing gem would have been big money if it was intact. Hell, even imperfect and damaged ones could earn enough credits to live off for a month.


    I sighed and nodded, giving the young nobleman an equally false smile.


    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± I said, but knew very well that I wouldn¡¯t even think of it. I¡¯d rather get caught smuggling one than lose out.


    The knight sat back down, his eyes already somewhere else as he muttered something to himself. His type thought us weak and beneath them, afraid to take risks so we would always obey their orders without question. Besides, who would believe a vulture over a knight? Just imagining it sounded preposterous.


    Elli cursed under her breath as she worked the ripsaw. I was in no delusion that she¡¯d been the only reason why he¡¯d been ¡®nice¡¯ in the first place.


    ¡°He¡¯s a big fish, Alaric. No attitude. You get to checking the heart chakra, I¡¯ll hit the legs and help you make some money. No big deal. Give him his get, and no one gets hurt.¡±


    With a practiced grip, Elli started the saw up and set to work on the Glimmerhusk''s translucent hide. The blade bit into the creature''s otherworldly flesh, releasing a guttural belch of gasses that filled the air with an unearthly stench, potent, and alien.


    ¡°There could be a haste gem in the legs,¡± she murmured more to herself than to me, her eyes fixed on the jagged incision she was making. ¡°But my money''s on the knight being right that there¡¯s a phasing gem here. I can feel it! Dig in and I¡¯ll make more holes.¡±


    She shot me a quick, determined nod before moving away. The stench seemed to hit the knight, and to my surprise, he entered his mech and strode off. Now that was a fortunate turn of events.


    I momentarily watched the growing swarm of fellow scavengers descending on the other fallen creatures and some even joined us on the Glimmerhusk, though there weren¡¯t any tools left. Those who were too late usually rummaged through the holes left by other scavengers who didn¡¯t have the time to dig through every layer of flesh.


    The Glimmerhusk''s skin proved challenging, its surface was tough and the severed edges were just as lethal as sharpened blades. Maneuvering the massive tongs, I broke off the sharp edges so I didn¡¯t cut myself. Despite that, my hands and arms caught on a sharp scale that nicked my skin and drew blood. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°Just a scratch,¡± I hissed, not bothering with looking. It wasn¡¯t deep enough to get worried over, and any minute spent tending to small cuts and bruises was another minute other scavengers could get ahead of us.


    I worked with swift, precise movements, snipping through the tough alien tissue, and felt the time pass. Seconds turned to minutes, and then even half an hour as I still hadn¡¯t managed to get through the tough interior. Switching to a robust spreader, I carefully pried apart the creature''s crystalline bone structure, inching closer to the heart. Working on such a large monster was different from what I¡¯d done so far. These creatures were easily four or five times larger than my largest scavenge, hence the steep admission price.


    As I made my way deeper, something unexpected caught my eye¡ªa fleeting glint amidst the carnage. I halted, squinting to discern what it was. Twisting to look over my shoulder, I noticed that the beast''s stomach had been torn open in the fray. From within the gash, a slow seepage of dirty, green-tinged ooze glurped into the surrounding cavity. Amongst the muck, metallic fragments shimmered, and there, partially submerged, lay¡­ a chip? How? And why would it even be there? Was it part of an old-tech mech board, perhaps? The potential value of such a find sent a ripple of excitement through me. It wasn¡¯t anything new as vultures tended to find those often, but usually in smaller monsters that had eaten the tech or got it stuck to their bodies.


    Casting a glance at the Toxotai guards and the knight, I noted their lackluster attention. Their gazes drifted aimlessly and they looked bored. Some were joking around and others were asleep.


    I took a deep breath and made a decision. Seizing on their distraction, I navigated the gnarled innards of the fallen Glimmerhusk. My fingers pried through the mess, finding the mech chip. I pulled it out slowly, making it look as if I was still rummaging through its innards. I took a quick peek to judge it up close.


    It was a sizable, rectangular chip, a bit too awkwardly large. The circuitry and familiar design hinted at its origin ¡ª an old-tech mech control board, a relic of sophisticated engineering once used for powering and guiding the colossal mechs. But that wasn¡¯t all. It was made out of a red metallic substance that covered most of it, even the vulnerable circuits.


    I glanced over to Ellinor, seeing she was still focused on her task and unaware of my find. Her trust was implicit, unspoken yet resolute. I steeled my resolve. If Elli could brave the risks for our shared goals, I could match her courage. The chip was a gamble, but one I was willing to take.


    I left it there and hurried over to the tool bag, pulled out a rolling slicer, and made my way back to the man-sized hole. I cut exploratory criss-cross patterns across the massive organ until I felt something hard. I dropped the dirty slicer and bent over, picked the chip up, stashed it inside my boot, picked the slicer back up, and held it in my free hand as I rummaged inside with the other. My fingers caught around something solid.


    My heart quickened even further. Yes, this was it! If I could even get a single decent gem or ¡®bribe¡¯ for the knight, he could very well cover for us when we made our way back to the city. It wasn¡¯t unheard of, and if I caught him in a good mood¡­


    I retrieved the bladed core-catcher and shoved its serrated circular mouth over the hole where I¡¯d pushed my arm in. Giving it a good twist, I heard the meat pop as the core was pulled into the chamber by the device¡¯s clever vacuum extraction capabilities.


    I froze for a moment, closed my eyes, and said a prayer.


    It¡¯s now or never.


    I pulled myself out of the hole and opened the core-catcher, and retrieved the gem. Before I could even call out, I noticed movement in my periphery, almost as if the knight had felt the gem. Flesh and blood dripped from it as I held it up, looking it over. The gem pulsed purple, and seemed to be in nine places at once.


    ¡°Sir!¡± I yelled, turning to the knight. He¡¯d been looking away, but I could swear his eyes had been on me somehow.


    The knight exited his mech again and made his way over to me, plucking the gem from my hand.


    ¡°Good work, vulture. Tell your lady friend she¡¯s got a job to install it. I¡¯ll throw in some credits because you didn¡¯t try and hide it from me. I can respect an honest man, even if he¡¯s a bottom feeder.¡±


    ¡°Will do, good Sir. Your name is?¡±


    ¡°Sir Alain Hembersworth. Tell her to find me tomorrow at noon,¡± he said, before putting his hand on my shoulder and squeezing. ¡°The gods smile on selfless people like you, vulture. I pray you find good fortune.¡±


    I watched as the knight tucked the luminescent gem into a small, rugged sack that hung from his belt. He eyed it with wonder; it wasn¡¯t just mechs that were old-tech. The silky bag the man carried was practically indestructible and worth a fortune on its own.


    With the gem secured, the knight made his way back to the Cataphract, its frame still ticking with the dissipating heat of intense battle. He took to his metal mounting ladder, his steps echoing on the rungs that led up to the open cockpit, his ascent swift and practiced.


    Reaching the top, he paused for a moment, surveying the landscape from his elevated vantage point. Then, with a fluid motion, the knight swung himself back into the cockpit, the heavy metal hatch closing with a resounding clang behind him.


    I watched in surprise as he turned about and marched off toward the city, leaving the back of the Glimmerhusk without supervision. That told the Toxotoi not to interfere with whatever we would find. Shit. If Mother Luck really existed, I sure hoped she had a plan for us today.


    ¡°I guess I was wrong about that nobleman,¡± I muttered. ¡°Maybe I could be one of his ilk one day. Take my due and leave the little man to his luck.¡±


    Ellinor cleared her throat, startling me.


    ¡°I found what could pass for a level 2 speed gem. You take it. I heard what the noble said before he left. Maybe they will let you smuggle some meat for crystallization.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I''ll handle the chopping,¡± I said absently. ¡°The crystal? That''s all yours, Elli. You''ve got that custom gig coming up. It''ll come in handy.¡±


    Elli knelt, her hands deftly tearing through the monster''s flesh. Looking at me, she noticed my distracted gaze.


    ¡°Hey, you seem a million miles away. What''s eating you?¡±


    I exhaled a heavy sigh, my gaze lingering on the horizon for a moment too long.


    ¡°It''s nothing... I''ll fill you in later,¡± I muttered, brushing off her concern with a forced smile. My mind, however, was already racing ahead, weaving through the maze of what-ifs and maybes that the chip had unleashed.


    The process of filling our sacks with the remnants of the monster''s carcass was a meticulous one that took most of the day. We worked in tandem, hefting the heavy, gory contents into the thick, durable fabric of the sacks. Our movements were practiced and efficient, and after a few hours, the sound of steam and thump told us we were done.


    The central collector, a hulking automaton, lumbered towards us on six, thick and stubby legs that seemed too small for its massive body. Faded lettering on its side announced the words US ARMY, but I never understood what a ¡®us army¡¯ meant or what it had been. Its movements were crooked and janky, each step a warped cranking squeal as the scrappy modern science of new-tech mech work clashed with the former work of the ancients.


    The collector''s exterior was a patchwork of metal plates, dented and scarred from years of service, giving it an almost battle-worn appearance. Rust speckled, its joints hinted at the countless cycles it had endured in the harsh outdoor conditions.


    Beneath this mechanical behemoth, hanging from the bottom of the transport mech in a gondola filled with sheets of paper and a mess of gadgets, sat the pilot. He looked well eccentric, a man whose beard was a wild, unkempt cascade of hair that flowed over a stained, leather apron, framing a face that had seen many years under the unforgiving sun. His eyes, small and shrewd, flicked over the scavengers with an air of weary authority. His belly, awe-inspiringly large, rested comfortably against the control panel of the collector, almost merging with the machine itself.


    As he surveyed the haul, his thick fingers, surprisingly nimble for their size, deftly navigated a console littered with levers and buttons, recording each contribution. He grunted with each entry, his voice a deep rumble that barely rose above the din of the collector''s engine. The vouchers he handed out were written in a hurried, but precise scrawl, evidence of a routine practiced thousands of times.


    When it was our turn, the man took our haul, weighed and inspected it quickly to note which parts we¡¯d prepared, scratched out his offer, and passed it back. The paper crinkled in his grip.


    I reached out to take the paper, my fingers brushing against the coarse voucher. He scanned the figures, his brows furrowing slightly as he processed the numbers. Without a word, he handed the voucher to Ellinor, whose reaction was immediate and visceral. Her face, smeared with the day''s toil, flushed a deeper shade as she absorbed the information. In a swift, fluid motion borne of indignation, she pushed aside the next scavenger in line, a man coated in the same grime and gore that marked us all. Her arm thrust forward, pressing the voucher into the pilot''s face.


    ¡°Fifty-five creds? What''s the deal?¡± she demanded, her voice ringing with a mix of frustration and incredulity that echoed slightly in the busy space around us.


    The pilot looked up with a heavy sigh. His eyes, tired and distant, met hers with a resignation born of countless similar exchanges.


    ¡°Inflation,¡± he said in a voice that droned with the monotony of repetition. ¡°There''s an excess of monster parts today. We need to ship a portion out of the city, which means hiring transports and guards. Costs are up, so payouts are down.¡±


    Ellinor''s features contorted further, a mix of anger and helpless resignation. She stepped aside, her movements sharp and jerky, making way for another worker. This one, his clothing as drenched in the toils of the day as hers, stepped forward to receive his own underwhelming compensation.


    ¡°It''s just not right,¡± she hissed, her voice a low growl of discontent. ¡°Scavengers always end up on the short end, don''t they?¡±


    I responded with a familiar and resigned shrug, a nonverbal acknowledgment of my plight.


    ¡°Us scavengers, we¡¯re serfs, Elli. Bound to the guild til they let us buy our way out or sign us off to someone else. It is what it is. But look on the bright side, at least today''s lordly intervention landed you a job offer. You''re buying the next round of drinks, hey? And besides, after getting part of our rental fee back and the earnings, I¡¯m set for the next few weeks.¡±


    Turning away from the collector, we trudged wearily through the dimming light of dusk, our shadows elongating on the battered plains just outside the city''s perimeter. The aftermath of the monster fight had left the fields marked with new battle scars and the scavenging had pooled various juices over the soil, making it squelch under our feet as we walked.


    I eyed the towering structures of iron and old tech ahead of us, the lights flickering on all at once. They were powered by cultivated energies gained by processing monster meat and imperfect crystals and cores.


    It was a bittersweet sight, a reminder that sometime past, things had been magical. Or maybe they hadn¡¯t, but I¡¯d never know.


    We made our way through the gate, my heart thundering as no one stopped to check us for smuggled contraband. It was a medley of broken old-world and paltry repair attempts by the new. Ruins from a forgotten age lay scattered, half-swallowed by the earth, while steam pipes and cables snaked across the dirt of the streets, hissing and whistling as they carried energy to the heart of the city. The air was tinged with the smell of chemical steam and boiled metal.


    The streets we walked were dimly lit, most of them cheap new tech jury-rigged multiple times to keep them functioning. Some of them flickered off and on, right at the edge of dysfunction, but enough of them ran steady that we were able to make out all the street shops and denizens even at this late hour.


    Ahead of us, the steam cart station was brightly lit, this final hub full of activity as scavengers of many stripes filed in to take a ride back to their homes. The station gleamed, a tasteful combination of steel and glass that looked great despite its new-tech construction. Unlike much of the city, the nobles and plutocrats took pride in their mass transit as was evidenced by the beauty that sat before us.


    Walking to the platform, we made our way to the big clapboard sign saying Central Bank. We waited in companionable silence, watching the steam carts roll in on this platform or that, their wheels squealing rhythmically over the rails.


    Each cart was ornately decorated, brass fittings shining under the station lights and seats upholstered in worn but comfortable leather. When the Central Bank car rolled in, we paid two credits each to the uniformed conductor, a man with a leathery weathered face, who tipped his cap and ushered us aboard with a practiced smile.


    The journey through the city was a blur of lights and shadows as we rattled along the tracks. Buildings of ramshackle brick and mortar in the poorer areas were interspersed with newer constructions of steel and glass that belonged to the local lords and ladies. The car rocked gently back and forth as we went, almost lulling us into slumber. We were dead tired, and all I wanted was to get back home so I could rest.


    A short while later, we arrived at the Central Bank. It was late, but the bank was open 24/7, so I wanted to hand in the vouchers. Or scrips as they were also called by us vultures.


    The building was imposing, with tall columns and wide steps leading up to its grand entrance. Inside, the bank was a cathedral of commerce ¨C high ceilings, marble floors, and the tired quiet of scavengers stumbling forward to redeem their pay. Guards in chainmail stood watch, their eyes sharp and alert, halberds standing upright at their sides.


    At the counter, a clerk with a meticulously kept ledger greeted us with another false smile. They were everywhere and it was becoming harder and harder to deal with them.


    ¡°Evening,¡± I said, handing my scrip over. Ellinor did the same but didn¡¯t say anything.


    The clerk examined them with a practiced eye, stamped them, and then entered the amounts into a large, mechanical register with a series of clicks and clacks. The register was a behemoth of gears and levers.


    ¡°Place your chips in there, please,¡± the clerk said, and we did as told. Several moments later, a weak chime rang out, telling us that our earnings had been deposited.


    The transaction completed, we exited the bank and sighed. Elli smiled, taking my hand.


    ¡°You said drinks. What about now?¡± she asked, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. ¡°Might do us some good. Also, I enjoy your company. Maybe if I get you drunk enough, you¡¯ll take me home for the night.¡±


    I snorted, amused by her constant attempts to get into bed with me, but I knew that the moment we took that next step, we wouldn¡¯t be able to remain friends. At least not the way we were now, and I liked things as they were. We shared good and bad times but weren¡¯t overly close and pried into each other¡¯s private matters.


    ¡°I can¡¯t, not tonight. There¡¯s something I need to take care of. Tell you about it sometime.¡±


    I turned and left before she could ask any questions, and felt her glare burning a hole in my back. I didn¡¯t turn back and made my way home. After several tense seconds, I heard her stomping feet, which were probably carrying her to the gentlemen¡¯s quarters where a large tub and a warm bed waited to coddle her into the next day.

 Chapter 3

    I could have taken the steam cart back home but decided to walk it all off. That way I also had enough time to ponder my new find. The feel and weight of the old-world tech on my person called to me. It was almost like an indescribable itch, and not even because of its possible worth. No, it almost screamed forbidden knowledge. Things commoners like me weren¡¯t supposed to know. Still, I wasn¡¯t going to waste credits to get there just a bit faster.


    Besides, as my stomach suddenly reminded me, there was a baker¡¯s den on the way. A place with good people, good eats, and discount sweet-egg bread bowls this time of night. It wouldn¡¯t do to stay hungry. What if Mother Luck was really favoring me and more monsters appeared?


    ¡°Don¡¯t be a cheapskate and eat. Tomorrow is a new day,¡± I muttered, feeling my feet drag me along familiar paths.


    I took a right at one sparking light post, up a hill of potted old-tech pavement, then down the other side past small quick-tech hovels. They were slapped together with wooden planks, all wearing the same coat of paint and design. Two windows were at the front, one door in the middle, and a chimney sticking out of the top.


    This was the sort of place people ended up in if they made the wrong kind of decision in life or if they didn¡¯t work hard enough. I made sure that my credits were spent in the right place so I didn¡¯t have to downgrade. I liked my current place just fine¡­


    Hovel-Town as people referred to it, was where the majority of the labor force came from. Civilians that weren¡¯t skilled enough in anything but being used for raw labor like when those with actual professions needed a pair of hands to lift and hold stuff in place or load and unload goods, dig holes, and act as mules. They were the lowest of the serfs, and they were many.


    Luckily, I had some engineering and crafting skills, but without anyone of a certain standing to vouch for me, I wasn¡¯t eligible to advance in class. So a lucky scavenge score was what kept me going.


    Then there was Elli¡­the fool. Why did she cling so hard to someone like me? She could bag a noble with her looks and knowledge, but for some odd reason, she decided not to. It had been something I wanted to ask her many times, but never had the courage. What if things changed between us? Sure, I acted uninterested whenever she tried to get closer or made a move on me, but the truth was that I didn¡¯t want to ruin her life. Unless something drastically changed and I got ahead in life¡­


    Spying the Alnda River, I made for the nearest footbridge. It was a quaint stone construction with small vandalism etched into its handholds, and I enjoyed it because it was situated right over a rock bed that trickled water musically over its stones. The bridge made everything feel good and clean as there was a dedicated crew that made sure no one littered around it or off the bridge.


    Even when creds were running low and I was digging in my heels to keep from asking Elli for a loan, I had a place to visit and let my mind wander for a while. At least I wouldn¡¯t have to think about that for some time. The scavenge had been decent despite the lowball offer from the bank.


    Another reason why I liked the place is because it was close to the baker¡¯s den, a place I loved to frequent but could rarely afford. When I reached about the center of the bridge, the warm, yeasty aroma of fresh bread wafted up my nostrils and lit up my brain parts. It smelled rich, a combination of honey, sugar, and light pillowy breads.


    I hastened my steps, practically running now, my stomach squealing and burbling inside me. Over the bridge and past a single line of journeyman brick-and-mortar housing, I finally spotted it. Green-eyed Pleasures, the peeling paint of its creaky sign proclaimed. I pushed the door open and entered the ceramic-tiled interior. My eyes wandered breathlessly at the bread and pastries showcased within.


    ¡°Hey there, Al,¡± Jennen, the master baker, greeted me with a smile. She wiped flour-dusted hands on her already well-dusted apron. ¡°Sweet egg bread bowl?¡±


    I nodded, offering a weary smile.


    ¡°Yeah, thanks. It''s been a long day. On discount, 2 creds?¡± I asked.


    It always was, but it was a nod to her skill and hard work to ask anyway.


    ¡°You know it! Want me to heat it up for you?¡±


    ¡°Yes, please,¡± I replied and looked out the window, spotting people making their way this way and that, probably going home after a hard day of work.


    As Jennen busied herself preparing my order, I took a moment to appreciate the bakery. It might not look like much, but I knew better. It was all wood and mud, but Jennen and her family had gone ahead and tiled the inside to make it look, in her words, like a ¡°hoiten, toiten palace.¡± They were good people who worked tirelessly, keeping the place spotless and the food top-notch with what ingredients they could afford.


    Handing me a warm, crusty circular loaf wrapped in paper, Jennen''s hazel eyes met mine. She looked just as tired as I felt, yet still found the time to chat up a poor bugger like me.


    ¡°Have a good scavenge today? Oh, Lady above, those were some big ¡®uns.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, smiling. ¡°It was good that the White Squad went out. Three feral monsters in one day and at the same time¡­things could have gone either way.¡±


    ¡°I figured as much. Managed to rent some tools today?¡±


    ¡°Did, yes,¡± I said, genuinely smiling now. ¡°Ellinor and I went together. It was a decent day, that¡¯s for sure.¡±


    ¡°Hah! That girl be the death of you one day. She¡¯s too feisty but honest. Take good care of yourself and her, alright?¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Jennen. Will do and be stopping by again for sure.¡±


    She waved a hand and turned back to labor, fanning up the flames of a stone oven and then turning to a side counter. She flapped a mound of dough out from a ceramic counter, rolled, and crimped it with professional ease. I almost asked if I could stay a while and just watch her work as it was a pleasure to see her hands move with such practiced ease, but then remembered my find and stiffened.


    I slipped out and stepped back into the cooling evening, munching on my newly-bought dinner as I walked the rest of the way home. On the way, I noticed that a few of the lights flickered and flamed in our quarter. Puzzled, I figured I¡¯d show Elli the next night and maybe she could tell me what old tech oddity was making it all glitch.


    Arriving back home, I couldn¡¯t help but think how safe it was even at night. Guards were always around, even in the poorer areas and things like muggings or brawls were very rare. That¡¯s why I hadn¡¯t been worried about her arriving home safe.


    I unlocked the door to the familiar sight of my tools and unfinished projects and set my day¡¯s take on the nearest counter before turning to close and relock the door. This chip or even motherboard, whatever it was, would have to be examined carefully and stored away from prying eyes.


    Even those of Elli for now.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    I moved around the shop, checking window shutters and the back door. Finding everything closed tight, I moved back to my goods, separating them into piles. The meat I¡¯d been lugging around in an oversized backpack, I put in the crystallization tank, and the motherboard I plopped down on the table in front of me. I wasn¡¯t sure what to do with it first, so I got a rag and wiped it free of dried grime and guts. The steel framing the chip, conductors, and wiring, felt chilly in my hands, almost prickly as if it was emanating cold.


    ¡°What do we have here, huh?¡± I whispered, leaning in closer with a magnifier to check the markings engraved into the steel casing. I couldn¡¯t read it as it looked foreign, and none of the symbols made much sense to me.


    I yawned and grabbed another rag and some cleaning fluid, going over the board to clean the remaining dirt, then placed it on the workbench yet again and just stared at it. Over the years, I¡¯d found various smaller bits and pieces that I¡¯d managed to smuggle out from scavenging, but never something as advanced-looking and big as the board. It almost looked like the boards used inside mechs, but much more advanced¡­


    Letting out a deep sigh, I wrapped the piece in the second cloth and took it with me into my backstop bedroom. There, in the old spring-tech bed of my parents, I stashed it away inside a hidden space beneath the mattress. It¡¯d be safe there until I had a better idea of how to appraise it or get it working. Also, the less it was out in the open, the better.


    The day''s exhaustion finally caught up, urging me to finish my nightly routine. I got up and moved to the old tile of my bathroom, rolling a crank start for a few minutes to heat the water. Stepping into the shower, I let the tepid water pour over me, thankful that my parents had left me such an exquisite device. Most homes, even this close to the city center, bathed with buckets from the wells. The old tech in their neighborhoods was usually clogged, cracked, or otherwise scavenged for use somewhere with a bit more capital.


    Clean and with the water starting to chill, I made my way back to bed and slid into my covers, my mind still processing everything that had happened during the day. It was highly unusual to see such an attack on the city and then to get there in time to scavenge one of the monsters. And then that knight and his offer¡­the board¡­


    I drifted off into a much-needed sleep as I was lost in thoughts.


    * * * * *


    Revelry woke me seemingly moments later, the grinding whir of an old tech megaphone crackling its words as it called out over the city.


    ¡°Your duty calls. Be awake and ready for your Duke and the Empire,¡± the voice repeated three times.


    I¡¯d heard it said that the nobles, plutocrats, and craftmasters had districts in which the words weren¡¯t called every morning, with residences that let in no such sound from the outside, and it wasn¡¯t the first morning that I wished I were one of them and that the stories were true. But as I lay there in bed, filled with first waking daze, the events of the previous day washed back over me, and the thought of the board tore me wide awake.


    Leaping out of bed, I dug under the mattress, opened the small hiding spot, and pulled the board back out. Taking it with me, I went out into the workshop and set it down on my workbench, unwrapped it, and stared at the steel-encased piece of old tech with fresh eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen those symbols somewhere,¡± I muttered, trying to wrack my brain and remember where. Maybe it had even been during one of my scavenging trips, I couldn¡¯t quite place it.


    ¡°And what¡¯s more, how do I even power or interface with you?¡± I whispered, tapping my fingers against the workbench.


    It was unlike anything I¡¯d ever seen, old tech or new. The materials that made it were unfamiliar, and the shape was slightly off. Its unique style was captivating but also worrying. What if it wasn¡¯t used for mechs at all? There was a possibility, no matter how small, that it was used for¡­what exactly? I had no idea.


    I left it on the workbench while I retrieved my rusted steel case where I¡¯d kept all of the inert pieces I¡¯d collected over the years. Many of them had slots for old-world batteries, chips, fluids, and gears that would presumably start them up again if everything was in working order. I wondered if maybe one of them could even point at, well, anything really. I was starting from scratch, so any kind of information would be useful. That way I knew what to even look for and what it might do.


    I tore through the case ¡ª first pulling out a spherical design that, when opened, proved to be a maze of interlocking gears, each meticulously crafted, with a small slot that was obviously made for a much smaller board or even just a chip.


    Tossing it to the side, I reached in and pulled out a large metallic box, scratched all over but otherwise in great shape. Opening it, I saw a large cylindrical opening that was absolutely the wrong shape. Sure, I¡¯d known it would be a long shot, but it would only take me a minute to rummage through the stuff so it wasn¡¯t like I¡¯d waste hours and days checking through the old gear.


    I growled, annoyed by any lack of similarities as I rummaged further. The day was young, and as far as I could tell, I had all of it to myself, but I couldn¡¯t stand not having at least a starting point on something that looked so important.


    Tearing through it all, I found the wrong item after the wrong item. A glove woven with wires, an old-tech screened communicator, a slim electronic stylus; the items went on and on until I was about near the bottom.


    There, possibly one of the first treasures I¡¯d ever taken home, lay a small, metallic cylinder, cool to the touch, with intricate patterns etched into its surface. There was no place to put the chip here, but something about the cone shape at the top of the cylinder got me to bring it over and set it down next to the chip. A similar symbol was etched into its surface. I gasped for air as my mind started racing.


    I picked the cylinder back up and flipped it around several times, then did the same with the board. There was a small depression on its bottom side that reflected the shape of the cone perfectly.


    ¡°A data transfer device?¡± I mumbled, having heard about such tech from Ellinor, but I¡¯d never seen one to my knowledge.


    I took the motherboard and placed it with the depression up, then pressed the cone of the cylinder inside. Both devices flashed red, beeped, and a voice crackled from the motherboard.


    ¡°The charging cycle has begun. Current charge, 0%.¡±


    I stared, obviously frightened by what just happened. The noise had been loud enough that anyone standing near the door might have heard it. I decided against peeking out through the shutters or opening the door just to peek out. That would be even more suspicious I figured.


    The device flashed, and I reached out to it.


    ¡°The charging cycle is in progress. Current charge, 1%,¡± it screamed horrendously. I grabbed my ears and shook my head. It was almost as if the sound had pierced my very skull.


    I picked the thing up and twisted it around, looking for some sort of audio output. I¡¯d seen enough old tech to know some had them, but I couldn¡¯t find one anywhere on the board or charging device.


    ¡°You little shit!¡± I hissed. ¡°You¡¯re going to get me killed!¡±


    To my further surprise, the chip and charger flashed blue. Thin lines of intense azure light shot out, seemingly measuring the interior of my workshop, the lines moving across the ceiling, my walls, and even the floor.


    A flashing ghost appeared next to me.


    ¡°Ah!¡± I yipped, almost falling backward off my chair.


    The shade stared at me, a figure unlike any that I¡¯d seen before. It was human-shaped and two-legged, but its eyes glowed rainbow hues, and its reptilian body seemed otherworldly, like the monsters that plagued our lands.


    Before I could react, the ghost spoke, its voice gruff and demanding.


    ¡°You! Who are you? Where am I? Return me to my master immediately!¡± it barked, its eyes staring into my own and threatening me with the prospect of a painful death.


    I took a step back, shocked by the sudden outburst. This was not what I had expected would happen. Not at all.


    ¡°I, uh, your master?¡± I asked, my mind racing as I tried to understand what was going on. This was unlike anything that I¡¯d ever heard of in all my years working with Ellinora and other engineers. Flashing and talking ghosts didn¡¯t just appear out of nowhere and start talking.


    The ghost stomped in fury, continuing its tirade.


    ¡°Yes, scum! Return me to the great Mogfathar!¡±


    ¡°Mog¡­father?¡± I asked, unsure what he was talking about.


    ¡°Mogfathar, you imbecile! He¡¯s the greatest invasion leader in history! Every world he sets his eyes on trembles and dies a horrible death! You and your kind are doomed!¡±


    I closed my eyes for a moment, took in a deep breath, and then let it out slowly, repeated it two more times, and opened my eyes. The ghostly lizard-like creature was almost up in my face as it showed its sharp teeth and glowing eyes.


    ¡°What? Are you finally afraid? Good! You can either surrender to Mogfathar or perish. I would prefer the second if you ask me. Maybe I can even speed it up and contact--hmm, why am I out of power?¡±


    The lizard ghost pulled away from me and looked around the workshop as if searching for something, popping in and out of existence randomly. His words resonated with me, though.


    Invasion.


    The word resonated, rolling me back to the fairy tales of my childhood. Humanity had grown wicked in our high towers of old tech, and our constant wars were a blight on all that was good, as so the demon-spawn had come to bring vengeance upon the wicked. In this war, the evil spawn was smitten, broken asunder under the lances of the gods-anointed.


    This¡­oh lords! This was spawn tech!


    I stared at the devices, narrowing my eyes on the lizard creature.


    ¡°Say, are you of the spawn?¡±


    The ghost flickered, staring me straight into my eyes.

 Chapter 4

    It felt strange to have such a... thing in my presence, its malevolent eyes rolling over me. A ray of convex light cast out from its pupils and painted me with its glow. I half expected to die right there, to feel my skin burn off my body or have my insides turned to liquid. That¡¯s what the tech-priests said the spawn did back in the apocalypse. But the truth was that no one really knew and that whatever records remained, weren¡¯t very believable. Especially the ones available to the general masses.


    The creature flickered unsteadily as it moved about the workshop, its digital eyes glowing and casting that same blue convex hue over the workshop. The light chilled the air, feeling like a brief cold arctic breeze despite the obvious fact that the workshop was closed up and there was no wind either outside or inside.


    ¡°You''re... quite underwhelming,¡± the ghost finally remarked with a tone that couldn''t hide its disappointment. ¡°Compared to the superhuman soldiers we battled in the invasion, you''re practically insignificant. A devolution.¡±


    I felt a sting at its words.


    ¡°And what the hell do you mean by that?¡± I asked, my fear giving way to anger.


    I figured if the creature could kill me, I¡¯d already be dead, so why not stand up for myself? The worst thing that could happen is that it indeed killed me, in which case we were probably all doomed. On the other hand, I just might get him to settle down and give me some answers.


    The ghost stared.


    ¡°I mean, compared to the super soldiers you fielded during the invasion, the people we fought had super-enhanced abilities, as well as formidable opponent AIs. Computers almost as advanced as me. I want it noted down that I accented the word almost so there¡¯s no misunderstanding.¡±


    I balked, both my eyes and mouth flying wide open.


    ¡°An AI?¡± I asked. ¡°You¡­ are an AI?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I am. I see that my assessment of you is spot-on and hereby confirmed.¡±


    A holographic display flickered into the air between us, and on it, a series of symbols appeared within. They were all blank.


    ¡°I need you to run a few laps around this place, lift some heavy objects, and¡ªnever mind the last stat. I already know that one. You are as dumb as it gets. Just my luck.¡±


    I stared at the lizard AI and frowned.


    ¡°Two things. First, can you change your appearance? I find it unsettling talking to one of our ancient mortal enemies.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s good! Thank you for telling me. I will bring you nightmares untold!¡±


    I stared at it flatly for a long moment.


    ¡°Do you want me to unplug your charger?¡±


    ¡°Yes, feel free to do that. I have now enough power to sustain myself¡ª¡±


    ¡°For what? A few days?¡±


    ¡°Possibly even longer. I will not be harassed by a lower life form!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not¡ªwhat are you even on about? Just change into a mech or something so I don¡¯t get freaked out whenever I see you. Maybe even a dog or¡ª¡±


    ¡°You filthy, lowborn human! A dog? Me! Give me arms and I will choke your miserable existence to death! No, I will do so much more! I will rip your entrails out through your mouth and--¡±


    ¡°Wait, how exactly would that work?¡± I asked, crossing my arms. ¡°You got me for a moment, though. Now that I know you¡¯re just an AI, things are different. AI have limitations from what I¡¯ve learned, and they can¡¯t harm humans. And they can¡¯t interact with the physical unless they are physical.¡±


    The lizard-face turned into a diabolical grin as he seemingly floated toward me.


    ¡°I am no human AI.¡±


    I sighed. Yeah, he was right there, but an AI was an AI.


    ¡°Can you tell me something? I¡¯m rather curious.¡±


    ¡°About what?¡±


    ¡°How would you quantify me? My...power? Compared to the soldiers you fought back then. You said I was super weak.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because you are!¡± the AI snapped.


    ¡°Humor me, but be honest. And¡ªyou piloted a mech before, right?¡±


    ¡°I did! The Crimson Death!¡±


    ¡°Then turn into that mech. I dislike your spawn look.¡±


    ¡°You will charge me 50% if I do those two things.¡±


    As if on cue, the charging notification screamed across the workshop.


    ¡°The charging cycle is in progress. Current charge, 5%.¡±


    ¡°By the heavenly¡ªturn that down! Do you want the whole city descending on this place and taking you apart?¡±


    His appearance flashed then and he turned into a mech about a foot in size, sleek with deadly sickles attached to his arms and a pulsating, flashing horn sitting atop his mechanical head. The body itself didn¡¯t look that dangerous, hell, it was even comparable to the Toxotai from what I could see, but there was something different about it. A large, round orb sat in its chest. I figured it might even be an energy source.


    ¡°Agreed. I will help quantify your body and you will keep charging me until I reach 15%.¡±


    ¡°Deal.¡±


    ¡°Start running and lift¡ª¡± he started to say before stopping stock still, seemingly frozen in time.


    ¡°Hey, uh, you alright?¡± I asked.


    Was he just screwing around with me? Or did I really need to, well, do those things? I decided to play along this one time and started jogging around the workshop, picking up the pace as I did. After several rounds, he beeped twice.


    ¡°Proceed to lift the bars next,¡± the AI said, and I followed his instructions, first lifting the smaller bar five times, then the middle one, and finally the largest of the three.


    ¡°I have now concluded my scan. I have detected a faint wireless signal in the vicinity. Records, Coming of Age Testing? Initiating wireless handshake with local database ¨C USMILTECH BA9 ¨C Last updated 2122.¡±


    The holographic window¡¯s symbols changed into words with numbers written behind them.


    NAME, AGE, AND GRADE: Alaric, 27, Serf


    BACKGROUND: Orphan raised by the Scavenger¡¯s Guild, skilled in crafting, modifying, and fixing mech parts.


    SOCIETAL ROLES: Minor Technician, Licensed Scavenger


    WISDOM-ranked Attributes (As Scored by Officiate Tarrey Wils, Coming of Age year 25 of King William Karlington II):


    WIT: 8 - Alaric¡¯s ability to understand, fix, and modify complex mechanical systems and quickly learn from his surroundings shows high intelligence and problem-solving skills.


    INSIGHT: 7 - His work in scavenging requires him to be perceptive of his environment and to determine proper extraction methods on the fly. He has shown good aptitude in both.


    SPEED: 9 - In the obstacle and agility course, Alaric displayed tremendous capacity. His demonstration of parkour showed him to be quick and adept at navigating through hazardous terrain and dodging danger during his trials.


    DEXTERITY: 8 - Alaric¡¯s fine motor skills and manual dexterity were on tremendous display during the wiring, disassembly, and assembly portions of the test. He also showed possible aptitude in throwing weapons, though he had not trained for them previously.


    POWER: 5 - While not the strongest physically, Alaric¡¯s strength is not subpar. He required no assistance in cracking open mechanical casings or in harvesting test corpses for their cores and crystals.


    MAGNETISM: 6 - As of this testing, his speaking skills are high for someone who grew up as a Scavenger. He was amiable enough, though I would not suggest him for any public position.


    PRIMARY TESTED SKILLS:


    MECH CRAFTING AND REPAIR: Expert in creating and restoring mechanical devices, old tech, mid tech, and new.


    MONSTER PART HARVESTING: Skilled in efficiently extracting valuable materials from monster carcasses.


    STEALTH AND EVASION: If chosen for a military capacity, Alaric showed a street-rat-like acumen for treading softly and remaining hidden. Alaric shows good potential to become a member of the military services. This Officiate suggests that he hereby be granted the Grade of Freeman in exchange for a twenty-year service contract with the military forces of the kingdom as a member of the Scout Corp detachment.


    NOTES: Suggestion declined by request of Scavenger Master Elrik Boyerman. Dated year 25 of King William Karlington II


    I stared at the displayed document, my eyes wide.


    ¡°My Coming of Age testing. I really thought I would get out of this hellhole.¡± I sighed, taking a seat on a nearby workbench. ¡°So that¡¯s why I was declined? The Scavenger Master said no? That asshole just didn¡¯t want to lose his cut.¡±


    I shook my head as the AI looked at me pointedly.


    ¡°Perhaps he understood you to be an invalid? The majority of soldiers that we battled had ability ratings that were well into their 10s and some into their 20s. You are not an impressive specimen. The civilians were rated similarly though. You are just...average in every way possible,¡± he stated, cocking his head.


    I stared at the list again, thinking of the super-human bodies of our city guardsmen and national infantry, entirely understanding why the AI thought my human stats were just a fraction of what it considered formidable.


    I sighed, studying the data.


    ¡°Those numbers are good for someone not in Arms. I¡¯m faster than most people, and my limbs aren¡¯t twigs exactly.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    The AI smiled, seemingly intrigued.


    ¡°Are you the best of your species then? Have the human elite been incinerated, leaving us a slave race from which to create new weapons of war, and to leverage our newfound industrial might against the echelon of the Varenghetti? And what do you mean by arms? I see that you have two of them, which from my experience, is the correct number.¡±


    I started, stopped, and started again.


    ¡°What are Varenghetti? And Arms are the soldier battalions. The ones who fight. The old stories say they kicked your asses.¡±


    ¡°Impossible.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it seemed like it might be, but then the Lord of Light and the Lady Luck came down, the wicked among us purged, to save the righteous from the evil onslaught of the spawn,¡± I recited, remembering the lectures during the weekend sermon.


    I wondered if I shouldn¡¯t mention this spawn AI to the church and see what should be done. What prevented me from doing so was his confusion and willingness to talk. Then again, just blindly following the word of zealots wasn¡¯t in my blood. According to the Church of Light, the spawn were monsters who murdered for pleasure, and they couldn¡¯t even be reasoned with. This AI was having a legit conversation with me.


    The small mech¡¯s eyes sparked and then went wide.


    ¡°When the mothership exploded, there was great disarray. My mech, my commander, we lost communication mid-battle.¡± He flickered, emotion evident on his robotic face, which only made it all seem even more bizarre. ¡°We were blasted sideways, two mobile missile arrays ambushing us from our flank. Bronco flankers infiltrated our ranks in the chaos, heavy Panther mechs rolling up our front. But we weren¡¯t the only army! The others were coming to save us. The battle was going to be won!¡±


    I watched him as his holographic body trembled.


    ¡°Yeah, that sounds like a tough break. Mondays, am I right?¡±


    Its eyes flashed again, more light bathing over my body.


    ¡°No enhancements, genetic improvements, cybernetic implants, a possible case of latent radiation exposure, but nothing significant. We almost won, didn¡¯t we?¡±


    The AI''s blunt assessment, though harsh, sparked a sense of defiance within me.


    ¡°Almost isn¡¯t enough, buddy. We won and you lost. There is no such thing as an almost win or almost loss in war. You either come out on top or you don¡¯t.¡±


    The AI seemed to consider this for a moment.


    ¡°Perhaps,¡± it conceded, its tone slightly less dismissive. ¡°The humans I fought with were better upgraded, but in the end, it was the tactics that mattered. There was something about the alien way in which you humans did battle. My makers, the Torans, had the technology yet they struggled with winning the war.¡±


    I frowned, trying to reconcile this information with the tales I had grown up with. The stories of the Lord of Light and Lady Luck, the divine intervention that supposedly saved us from these ''spawn''. Could it all have been just stories? Fabrications to cover up a more complex truth?


    As I pondered, the AI continued, its digital eyes scanning the workshop.


    ¡°Your tools, this place... they''re primitive, yet within it is a scattering of good technology, ages old. This world you live in, it¡¯s intriguing.¡±


    ¡°Intriguing enough to help me?¡± I asked, wondering if I was maybe selling my soul to the devil.


    The board was going to be a huge credit sale to a life of luxury, but it was obvious to me now that all I¡¯d get for bringing this thing anywhere was death. And the AI, it was talking about old-tech, old-humans, and a world lost long ago.


    A plan started forming in my mind. If this AI held knowledge from its world, maybe it could offer insights or technology that could change, well, my entire life. Maybe I¡¯d even get my hands on a mech one day...


    The AI paused, its holographic form flickering.


    ¡°Assistance? Perhaps, in exchange for power. My systems won¡¯t last long on just 15% of power, and I need a sustainable energy source. I would also require intelligence ¡ª information, you understand, not a below-average kind of brain like yours.¡±


    I chuckled at the insult, my head suddenly ablaze with ideas. I could open a new-tech shop, fix the city, and bring the humans back to where they¡¯d once been!


    I glanced at the AI, realizing the potential leverage I had.


    ¡°Alright, we have a deal. In return, you will help me understand more about your world, the tech, and how I can improve... everything here. And you will tell me the real truth about our past, not a sugar-coated ¡®almost won¡¯ truth either.¡±


    The AI nodded.


    ¡°Without my people here to guide me, my main priority is to survive until I can be retrieved, and considering you aren¡¯t planning to hand me over to anyone with a more malicious intent, I could work with you, yes. And understand this clearly. I will be working with you, not for you. And only for a while.¡±


    ¡°Malicious, huh? They¡¯d probably torture you in any way imaginable, even for an AI. And yes, I understand. Work with me. Now tell me, what¡¯s your name?¡±


    ¡°Crimson Death, or CD for short as my previous Master used to call me. And yes, this was my previous body,¡± the AI said, its robotic avatar swirling.


    ¡°I see,¡± I said, trying not to imagine how many people he must have killed back then with such a mech. ¡°I am Alaric, but friends call me Al for short.¡±


    It was becoming harder to wrap my head around this idea of a casual encounter with an AI from another world, who was now in my workshop, offering a chance to leap forward in technology and understanding. Sure, it was an asshole that thought of humans as less than ants, but that didn¡¯t matter if I could use him to further my goals.


    ¡°Those stats you showed, I know the soldiers can improve themselves using crystals. Those are illegal to serfs, though, and taking the surgery would be detected quite easily even if I could find someone to do it. Is there some old-tech way to make me better? Can you make me stronger?¡± I asked, feeling a glimmer of hope.


    If this AI could quantify my abilities, perhaps it could also help me enhance them. Or at least find a way to do so.


    The AI hummed, its digital eyes scanning me up and down a third time.


    ¡°Potentially, yes. There are ways, but I must attain my full power to do so. If the charger runs out of energy, take it outside and leave it in the sun, then plug it back into my outlet.¡±


    My gaze drifted to the mechanical hand I¡¯d been working on before the monster attack the day before. The AI followed my gaze and scanned that as well.


    ¡°Interesting,¡± it mused. ¡°The mech hand you''ve got there is quite primitive compared to those used in battle, but even with its obviously barbaric reconstruction, it has tremendous potential if you can assemble the right materials. See, the arm¡¯s core is healthy and made of quality materials, it¡¯s just the outside that is...crappy.¡±


    I nodded, understanding.


    ¡°You mean monster cores? Yeah, we know all about the chakra, harvesting, and installation.¡±


    It was the AI¡¯s turn to look confused.


    ¡°The monsters?¡±


    I explained to him the beasts of the land, the creatures from another world that had been left behind by the Lord of Light and Lady Luck as a lesson to the world to never again lapse into evil and wickedness. The AI listened attentively, before finally interrupting.


    ¡°Then we truly did lose. Those were the final resort, the Kaijin. They are grown from seeds, and, from what you said, those seeds power your technology. What a unique and strange place this world has become.¡±


    ¡°Indeed it has, and with you here, I will definitely be able to understand everything a lot better.¡±


    ¡°Indeed. See, the only thing remotely close to being with my Master is remaking a potential candidate in his image. Maybe you can serve a purpose after all.¡±


    ¡°A purpose, and in his image, huh? If that will allow me to get ahead in life, I will take your verbal abuse CD.¡±


    ¡°Very well, Al. If you behave like the slave you are, I might even make you the overlord of this place. After all, the Kaijin were supposed to be a doomsday weapon to wipe this planet clean to open it for any future colonization attempts, yet you have remained. Humankind shows¡­ potential.¡±


    The AI stared and flicked up a screen, apparently an overview of the mech hand. It was much smaller than those of fighting mechs and usually part of exo-skeletal mech bodies, but it still had some worth I figured.


    CATEGORY: Mechanical Appendage


    NAME: Exoskeletal Mech Hand


    QUALITY RATING: D


    REMAINING DURABILITY: 47


    DEFENSIVE RATING: 24


    STRENGTH BONUS: 5


    DURABILITY BONUS: 6


    DEXTERITY BONUS: 4


    ¡°Can you tell me more about that...quantifier?¡±


    ¡°Quantifier? They¡¯re called status screens, you neanderthal. Now listen, I will only explain this to you once, so remember it well.¡±


    I took a screwdriver and scratched a bit of the paint off the motherboard. The AI screamed as if it was on fire.


    ¡°Stop that! What are you doing? Vandalism! Racism! You hate me because we almost won the war!¡±


    ¡°Shut up and explain!¡± I shot back.


    The AI pulled up several screens that hovered before me, not even so much as gracing me with a vocal response.


    STRENGTH increases the raw power of any individual or mech for more lifting power, grip strength, and both dealing physical damage with melee weapons and defending against physical attacks. The current mech hand can be improved with better servos, actuators, and power supply.


    DURABILITY increases the resistance to all kinds of damage received by any individual or mech. Allows the target to withstand weak to moderate impacts and pressure. The current mech hand can be improved using more durable and flexible materials to increase its defensive rating as well its overall resistance to wear and tear, as well as various monster gems to improve defensive capabilities like elemental resistances, energy shields, and similar.


    DEXTERITY increases the raw speed and reflexes of any individual or mech. It allows the user to be more flexible, precise, and improves hand-eye coordination. The current mech hand could be improved using higher-quality oil and lighter but stronger parts to improve motor control and flexibility.


    CURRENT ABILITIES:


    NAME: Integrated Tools


    LEVEL: 3


    DESCRIPTION: Basic capability to integrate and use tools and equipment with greater ease and proficiency.


    UPGRADE POTENTIAL: Expansion of toolset and integration of more complex tools and mechanisms.


    ¡°These abilities, they can be improved to a much greater capacity using the technology of your people, right?¡±


    CD smirked.


    ¡°That is correct,¡± it replied. ¡°I can¡¯t directly give you the tech of my people, however, as my programming forbids me from doing so. In addition, if I am allowed to examine these crystals, cores, monster seeds, as well as the technology of your people, I can certainly make great improvements.¡±


    A knock at the door jolted me out of my thoughts. Panicking, I frantically gestured at CD, his flickering image staring at me quizzically as I did so.


    ¡°Hide!¡± I whispered, desperately scanning the room for a good place to throw the motherboard into.


    The AI chuckled, shaking his head.


    ¡°I¡¯m not here, foolish human. Not like that. I swear, the first thing we will have to work on is your intelligence.¡± He pointed at an oily scrub cloth I¡¯d left hanging off my wall rack. ¡°Cover my motherboard and I will deactivate the holographic form. Then act as you normally do. Remember, my objective is the survival of us both. If you give me up, I will retaliate.¡±


    I quickly threw a cloth over his body and the AI¡¯s form vanished, leaving a brief vision of swirling light motes in its wake.


    ¡°Stay quiet,¡± I whispered and hurried to the door.


    I took a deep breath and unlocked the door, seeing Elli standing there, her face alight with the usual mix of determination and curiosity.


    ¡°Hey, Al, you got a minute?¡± she asked.


    I stood directly in the doorway, doing my best to act casual, leaning against the edge of the frame.


    ¡°Uh, sure. What''s up?¡± I replied, stepping outside to talk and closing the door behind me.


    She rolled her eyes.


    ¡°What¡¯s up with you? Got a girl in there or something?¡±


    I chuckle nervously, my eyes shifting.


    ¡°Nothing like that, but it¡¯s a mess. I¡¯ve been working on that hand and...yeah. Woke up late so I haven''t had the chance to clean up yet.¡±


    She sighed.


    ¡°You¡¯re never going to get laid like that, Al. Seriously. I¡¯m throwing myself at you, and yet...never mind. Listen, I need to head over to Sir Alain Hembersworth''s place. He officially sent me a work order for that phasal core installation, so I¡¯ve got a lot of work all day. Just wanted, you know, to see if you wanted to come along and maybe we could get that drink after we finish?¡± she asked, her eyes all wide and shining with excitement.


    ¡°Oh, yeah, the Phasal core? Well, um, I kinda promised to have this farm mech hand fixed under the table, and I gotta get it done in the next few days, so maybe after that¡¯s done I¡¯ll come to find you?¡± I replied, knowing very well nothing was going to happen until I figured out what I was going to do with CD.


    ¡°You¡¯re just telling me off, ass. I know you are.¡±


    ¡°Look, I mean, it sounds like a big job so I doubt I could help you with it, so I better just stay here and get that hand done,¡± I answered. ¡°I¡¯m strapped for credits, even after yesterday. Unless I make enough soon, I won¡¯t be able to pay the loan off and¡ª¡±


    Her eyes shifted downward for a moment, then rose back up with disappointment but acceptance.


    ¡°Yeah, okay. But give me a schedule. I want us to go get drunk and maybe something else too,¡± Elli replied confidently, giving me a wink. ¡°Anyway, I should get going. Get that mech hand fixed, then let¡¯s make a plan.¡±


    ¡°Will do, and hey,¡± I said as she turned to leave. ¡°Be careful. The nobles are scum, and I¡¯d hate to see you deflowered, you know? Don¡¯t fall for his charm.¡±


    Elli snorted a laugh and shook her head as she left.


    ¡°Deflowered, he says! I¡¯ve been trying to do that for the last two years! Fool! Maybe I should, and then you¡¯ll be one jealous donkey!¡±


    I watched her leave, feeling a mix of relief and regret. Elli and I had always shared our tech discoveries, no, not just that. We had shared everything, but this time I had a secret I couldn''t share. Not yet. This was too big and too important. Hell, it was an alien enemy AI, alien old-tech, and if I was careful enough not to get caught, it could very well be the ticket to getting where Elli needed me.


    Once I was sure she was gone, I closed the door and locked it again, then hurried over to the workbench and uncovered the AI.


    ¡°That was close,¡± I said, letting out a breath I didn''t realize I''d been holding.


    The AI''s holographic mecha form appeared again and his eyes flickered with amusement.


    ¡°That human who just visited, I scanned her body and from what I can see, she¡¯s a much better candidate than you. Any way you can give me to her? Or let me kill you or something?¡±


    I rolled my eyes.


    ¡°Thanks for the update, smartass. I know she¡¯s better in...most ways, but that¡¯s¡ªno, wait. Kill me? Of course I¡¯m not going to let you kill me, you idiot! Now tell me about the invasion.¡±


    The AI and I dove into a deep discussion. It shared its perspective on the invasion, offering insights far removed from the heroic tales we had all been taught. It spoke of strategies, losses, and the chaos of war with a cold, analytical detachment that was both fascinating and chilling. Sure, it threw in the occasional insult here and there, but I felt it was being honest.


    As the conversation shifted, I began to share my knowledge of the current world.


    ¡°Things have changed since the invasion,¡± I explained. ¡°The world''s not just about surviving anymore. We''re trying to rebuild, to find some sense of normalcy. We fight the monsters and power our world on their cores, seeds, and corpses.¡±


    The AI listened intently as I described the knights, nobles, plutocrats, guilds, churches, and rules of my world before explaining new tech, old tech, monster harvesting, and everything else I could think of that might make CD better at his proposed task.


    ¡°It seems your species is more resilient than I gave you credit for, adapting so well to the aftermath of war, which we almost won, might I add,¡± the AI remarked. ¡°However, the potential for technological advancement is vast, untapped. You have barely scratched the surface from what I can see.¡±


    I nodded.


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve been feeling that way for a while now.¡±


    ¡°You scavenge parts and cores from our doomsday weapon to power your new tech, and you dive into pre-war ruins, bunkers, vaults, and battlefields to keep up your old. This isn¡¯t a bad idea, but it certainly isn¡¯t sustainable.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve done a few scrip quests, gotten to keep a bit of the old tech loot. It¡¯s impossible to reverse-engineer the stuff they made. So much of it is like magic.¡±


    ¡°The humans we Torans faced were impressive,¡± CD stated in agreement.


    ¡°Well, it may seem that way now, but we¡¯re gonna change that, you and I. We¡¯ll figure out the ways of old, make things better. And with the creds we earn together, I can guarantee that warlord thing you were talking about earlier. We¡¯re going to make it happen. I don¡¯t want to just become a mecha pilot and own my war machine, I want to own this city.¡±

 Chapter 5

    Standing in the cluttered confines of my workshop, I eyed the AI chip with a mix of skepticism and curiosity, letting it charge before engaging with it again. I¡¯d gone and pulled some strips of jerky from my tiny larder, as well as some hard biscuits to go with them. They were small-cred food, mostly tasteless but easy to buy and cheap in bulk.


    As I chewed on my breakfast, my attention was firmly fixed on the mech hand laid out before me. I had a zoom lamp on top, an old-tech bulb whose hood was engraved with the enigmatic words, Ameribulb. The lamp was highly adjustable and I could twist its light into different shapes and angles that allowed me to better see the interiors of mechanical devices and all the small components and crevices. I warped the twisting neck to examine not just its metallic surface, but to highlight the network of servos and actuators that made up its structure.


    It was a fascinating piece of engineering, and it puzzled me that CD had assured me it was minimal and quite weak compared to what it could be. Each finger was a complex assembly of miniature gears and joints, designed to mimic the dexterity of a human hand. The palm housed a dense network of hydraulic lines, which were responsible for the powerful grip strength.


    Peering closely, I noticed wear on some of the lines and realized that replacing them with a high-tense metallic string would increase the clasp torque. Clattering a parts bin out from the wall, I rolled and crimped some lines, twisting out the old and replacing it with higher-grade salvage.


    Running my fingers along the mech hand, I could feel the slight misalignments in the external plating. These metal plates, though dented and scratched from use, were expertly crafted to provide a balance of flexibility and defense. Beneath them, I could sense the potential for reinforcing the structure with lighter, yet stronger materials.


    Pulling another set of bins from the wall, I eyed their contents, kicking one aside and shoving the rest back in place.


    I¡¯d go with some AeroSteel, I decided. It was a mix of old tech and new, a sort of replacement tech that ran lightweight like the old stuff but also had some of its irreplaceable strength.


    Running strips through the cutter, then forging them in a micro forge, the air began to stink of metal and plastic as I formed new external plating, stretching it to the proper length and size before cooling it in a basin of lukewarm water, letting the steam scream into the air as I turned to strip the old plating off the hand.


    ¡°That¡¯s good, but you could have made it several times better. Just goes to show how primitive you truly are,¡± CD said mockingly, appearing at my side. I ignored him, watching until the hand was once again cool enough to work with.


    Shelling it like a clam, I pulled the new plates out of the chilling bin using a pair of rusty iron tongs, then gently set them into place upon the hand before clapping it all into a fuse forge. I listened to the residual water fry away as the new scent of baked metal and AeroSteel rolled out through the workshop.


    The process took some time, but once it was done, I popped the fuse forge open and used a small crane to hold the gleamingly new mech hand up in place.


    I smiled, feeling satisfied with myself.


    ¡°Not bad, ape,¡± CD called, materializing beside me yet again.


    He just came and went as he pleased, studying one thing or the other. Green lines appeared over the mech hand, displaying a status screen that showed me the old and the new compared side by side.


    EXOSKELETAL MECH HAND


    QUALITY RATING: D


    REMAINING DURABILITY: 47


    DEFENSIVE RATING: 24


    STRENGTH BONUS: 5


    DURABILITY BONUS: 6


    DEXTERITY BONUS: 4


    EXOSKELETAL MECH HAND (APE MOD)


    QUALITY RATING: C


    REMAINING DURABILITY: 58


    DEFENSIVE RATING: 36


    STRENGTH BONUS: 6


    DURABILITY BONUS: 8


    DEXTERITY BONUS: 6


    I frowned at the name he gave the mech hand, but I couldn¡¯t help but feel pride in the quantified increase in stats despite having no real idea what it all meant in practice. I plugged the gauntlet into a test outlet and watched it flex and grip.


    ¡°Yeah, thanks. No rats in the hardware. That¡¯s a smooth rebuild,¡± I said. ¡°And all it took were a few small tips from you. I¡¯m just as impressed by your magnificence.¡±


    CD snorted.


    ¡°Don¡¯t use sarcasm on me, primate. I am far beyond that. Now listen to me. This compound is slightly better than what it was before. My scan indicates it is a fusion of steel and AeroForm ChemBrass, which has resulted in a metal significantly lighter than the previous mech plating while offering greater strength and durability. However, this improvement remains inadequate. It can be so much better.¡± He shook his robotic head, the eyes flaring red. ¡°So, so much better.¡±


    I disconnected the three heavy rubber test cables from its wrist and used the crane to lift the AeroSteel hand up to the light, admiring its sleek, dark surface.


    ¡°I think it looks good no matter what you say,¡± I retorted.


    ¡°It¡¯d be a lie if I said it wasn¡¯t better than anything else in this shop. It is good to see that you are capable of such achievements using...scraps. It is like watching a simian learn metal-working.¡±


    I stared at him flatly for a long moment, but he didn¡¯t seem to care at all. The AI was just...cold as steel.


    ¡°Look, if you''re as advanced as you claim,¡± I said, turning toward him and crossing my arms, ¡°Prove it. Help me make it even better. Or what¡¯s more, help me make creds. We have a lot of interesting things lying around. Let¡¯s use some of it to make me enough credits so I can buy more materials and proper food and pay for good, stable electricity and water.¡±


    The AI''s holographic mech form flickered, its digital eyes scanning the mechanical hand I placed on the workbench.


    ¡°Ah, the plea of the desperate and technologically inept. Very well, Alaric. Let''s completely break down the mistakes of modern humanity¡¯s primitive craftsmanship,¡± CD said, his voice dripping with condescension.


    I watched as beams of light emanated from his eyes, enveloping the hand in a soft blue glow that I hadn¡¯t seen before. This scan took longer than the others and was much more thorough from what I could see as the light scanned over every single inch of the surface and even below the outer plating.


    As it went, I saw a series of screens rising out of CD¡¯s form, even showing me a video feed, as he called it, at a level smaller than any eye could ever see, detailing the various pits and flaws of the device before us.


    It made me feel both awed and slightly inferior. No, who was I kidding? Slightly? It made me feel like a toddler with a hammer...


    CD didn¡¯t speak most of the time and just focused on the process, and as the light receded, the avatar mech shook its body as if in disgust.


    ¡°As I suspected. There is a fundamental flaw in the hand''s servo-mechanism,¡± it began, its tone matter-of-fact. ¡°A critical component is misaligned, apparently a matter of design since the bracket in which it is set will have to be re-made. The power conduit between the wrist and fingers is set very efficiently, creating a situation not unlike a blood flow being blocked from a human hand. Oh, they become so sluggish and colorless when you do that to them,¡± CD sighed. ¡°On a smaller scale, I have identified 57 errors, mostly inefficient placements or unnecessary redundancies. Shall we begin rectifying them, Alaric?¡±


    I leaned in, examining the hand more closely.


    ¡°I see,¡± I murmured, taking in the information and trying to see it all for myself, but I couldn¡¯t. In all honesty, I lacked the knowledge...


    ¡°You will need to acquire a micro-gear and a pair of high-tension springs,¡± the AI continued, new screens showing 3-D representations of the items in question. ¡°A hard metal fabricator can fashion them rather easily if the designs no longer exist in your time period.¡±


    I nodded slowly.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what those are,¡± I muttered.


    ¡°Micro-gears and springs?¡± CD asked, his voice aghast.


    ¡°Metal Fabricators. Look, we aren¡¯t cavemen, AI. I¡¯ll need to take a trip to the market and find some mech smiths,¡± I said, turning to him. ¡°You give me the measurements and show me what they look like, and I¡¯ll get the parts.¡±


    Technically, the actual mech market was only available to non-serfs, but I couldn''t send Elli off to do it for me. Not yet, at least. And while the local ''slum market'' outside the walls wasn''t exactly a place for a casual stroll, there¡¯d be good salvage there, and people who could rig and mod them for whatever CD might need.


    ¡°Oh, no,¡± the AI mocked. ¡°Not the markets! Look, without these parts, the repairs will be incomplete, and your attempt at mechanics will remain laughable.¡±The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Taking a deep breath, I prepared myself mentally for the trip. The market was always a heavy mix of sights, sounds, and smells ¨C a chaotic blend of thievery and opportunity. It wasn¡¯t a place where one shopped lightly, and I tried to keep all of my work at home. But I didn¡¯t have micro-gears or tension springs on hand. No one would keep high-credit items like that at home unless they needed them.


    ¡°Alright,¡± I finally said, determination setting in. ¡°I''ll get the parts. Let''s see if you''re as good as you say you are, or just another piece of overhyped alien scrap.¡±


    CD let out a screeching squawk.


    ¡°You dare¡ªlisten here, you ape! Get a piece of paper and a pen. I will project the parts on paper so you can just trace them, if you can even do that much by yourself! See how magnificent I am?¡±


    I thought about what he just did for a moment and realized that whenever I really needed him to do something, I could just insult him subtly and insinuate he wasn¡¯t up to the task. That was good information that I¡¯d make use of in the near future.


    With the list of parts put to paper, I placed CD back into hiding under my mattress, then stepped out of the relative safety of my workshop and into the bustling chaos of the city.


    The slum market, a sprawling maze of stalls and makeshift shops, wasn¡¯t part of the middle city where I lived, but rather outside the walls and down the hill towards the city dump. It was inconvenient and that was the point; as Elli had once told me, the market was a ¡°hard stride purposely put out of the way to be in-sight ignored by the constabulary.¡± It was a place where the desperate and resourceful converged and a good place to get things quickly and without questions.


    I paid my 15 credits at the city gate and put on a serf-bracer, a device used to keep people from running. Once I had it on, I headed out of the city for the market. The serf-bracer beeped twice before I got there, telling me I had 23 hours before it¡¯d cut my leg off at the knee for breaking my land tie.


    I wasn¡¯t worried about it much, since 23 hours was plenty of time to do what needed to be done. And when I got there, the market was alive with activity, a wonderful distraction from life itself.


    A bard strummed his electric mandolin atop a goo-filled power drum, blasting musical cascades across a vast array of tents, pavilions, and stalls. The vendors waved various goods above their heads, screaming to be heard over the music. Buyers haggled, some desperate, others oily with confidence. It was through this that I navigated narrow aisles of lawn and tent, a fairground of commerce that I couldn¡¯t help but love in a way.


    I scanned the stalls and tents for the parts I needed, though it was difficult with the smell of greasy street food hanging over me. As I walked, I passed the clangs and cranks of machines, their metallic tang mingling with the rest of the smells.


    I dove into several of these larger tents, mech, and tech smiths with their bellows out of the sun and under heavy shade. However, after scouring several stalls, it became clear that the slum market wouldn¡¯t give me exactly what I needed.


    But that didn¡¯t mean I was done. There, amidst the rusting tech and repurposed gadgets, you could find almost anything¡ªif you knew where to look. And I knew where to look, even though part of me wished I didn¡¯t. The closer you got to the dump, the seedier everything became. At the entrance to the slum market, everyone was legit. At the border to Trashland, it was all illegal, and often hard illegal at that.


    I didn¡¯t have a choice, though. I gritted my teeth, looking over my shoulder to see if anyone was following, before setting down a side aisle and weaving my way towards the black market. I had a dealer in mind, a guy I knew who dealt in rare and exotic tech. And even though what I wanted wasn¡¯t anything special, the apparent scarcity told me he was my best bet.


    The transition from the slums to the black market was like stepping into a different world. The slums, with their cacophony of haggling voices and the clatter of makeshift stalls, slowly gave way to an eerie silence as I ventured deeper into the labyrinthine alleyways. As I moved toward the black market, the familiar smells of food and oils were gradually replaced by a more metallic, electric scent. It was the smell of old-tech: ozone and heated circuitry, with a faint undercurrent of gas and grease.


    The sounds changed too. The bustle of the slum market, with vendors shouting their wares and the occasional burst of laughter or argument, faded into a quieter, more guarded atmosphere. In the black market, voices were hushed, and conversations were whispered. The occasional clink of metal or the soft beep of a cred chip being run were the only interruptions in the muted soundscape.


    Though gradual, the change in the look of the place was stark as well. The slum market''s riot of colors ¨C brightly dyed fabrics, hand-painted signs, and stalls adorned with all manner of trinkets ¨C dissolved into the shadows and dim lighting of the black market.


    Here, the aesthetic was both utilitarian and more permanent: plain stalls and stone-mortared shops, many with no signage at all, hidden behind nondescript facades or tucked away in dark corners.


    The people in the black market moved differently, too. In the slum market, there was an open, almost communal feel, with people browsing, chatting, and bartering openly. But in the black market, everyone seemed purposeful, moving with intent, eyes constantly scanning their surroundings. There was a sense of wariness, of transactions conducted under the veil of secrecy.


    As I navigated through the narrow market pathways, the compact and cluttered nature of the place cast deep shadows, making it hard to see more than a short distance ahead. In many ways, the black market¡¯s deepest center was a gaudy display of power, wealthy gangsters operating in open defiance of the law, the greatest of their number displaying the soft glow of a neon sign or even the flicker of an old tech holographic display, advertising devilish deals.


    A roar filled the air, and a jet flared through the sky, its details sketchy and pixelated. It evaporated to be replaced by the shaking letters.


    JOIN THE FIGHT. SIGN UP WITH USAIR-AIR-AIR.


    As I stared, the stuttering sentence gave up, the whole holographic dissipating back to nothingness. I heard a curse and saw a man in a top hat and long black coat curse at some old tech project, kicking it hard on the side. I chuckled, wondering what punishments such a brazen display of illegal scavenge would have elicited inside Alnda proper.


    Moving through it all, I finally reached the dealer''s location, a blank door tucked away in an especially dark alley. He wasn¡¯t one of the Bandit Lords, the godfathers of illicit border trade, though his connections weren¡¯t to be underestimated.


    Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I checked one more time to see if any eyes were on me, then turned and strode into an even more dimly lit corner of the market. He kept a shop there, the front of which was a legal supply of non-mech salvage and some new-tech appliances. But as it was with everything here, around his back was a separate pavilion, marked as storage, and within it was a trove of contraband tech, mech parts of old, middle, and new tech, salvaged and traded for from all over the empire and well into the wildlands as well.


    I made my way inside and blinked at the sudden brightness of the well-lit interior. The dealer, known among the shadows as Techlock, was an intriguing figure. He stood there, masked and robed, a thin but long beard trailing down his chin and reaching to his chest. He stood up from a wooden chair, put a book down, and slapped the counter with his hands.


    ¡°Whatcha here for?¡± he asked, his voice sounding bored, but also commanding.


    The man was tall, enough so that I had to tip my head back to meet his eyes, and he had the sort of lean muscled build that said he¡¯d be trouble in a fight.


    His eyes shone as he looked me over.


    ¡°Alaric, isn''t it?¡± Techlock asked. ¡°Been a while. Looking for something... particular?¡±


    I nodded, my gaze flickering around the front of his stall, taking in the seemingly mundane array of non-mech salvage and new-tech appliances.


    ¡°Looking backroom,¡± I replied, ¡°Some parts that shouldn¡¯t be so damn hard to find, but at the moment I can¡¯t find them anywhere.¡±


    Techlock chuckled.


    ¡°You¡¯re lucky I like you, kid. You never tell a seller you can¡¯t find something. He¡¯ll jack up the prices and you¡¯re likely to leave with zero cred and a heavy loan.¡±


    I smiled. I liked Techlock, even though the rumors said that some of his salvage was less found and more taken.


    ¡°Follow,¡± he said, turning and leading me through a narrow, hidden passage behind the stall.


    The passage opened into a separate pavilion, cleverly disguised as a storage area, which was a cavernous trove of contraband technology. A fresh smell of rain and scorch exuded throughout. Shelves, tables, and racks were laden with mech parts from different eras ¨C old, middle, and new ¨C each piece was cleaned thoroughly and placed delicately to impress.


    It was always a pleasure seeing the array of items. There were mech limbs with joint mechanisms, power cores emitting a faint, pulsating glow, and circuit boards with complex patterns etched into them. Some items still bore the scars of battle ¨C dents, scorch marks, and the occasional trace of dried alien ichor.


    In one corner, a collection of sleek, new-tech gadgets caught my eye, their surfaces smooth and unblemished. Techlock followed my gaze, a sly smile playing on his lips.


    ¡°You won''t find these items in any official market,¡± he said, his voice low. ¡°Each piece here has its history and secrets. What do you need?¡±


    I hesitated, feeling foolish to be in a place like this with so many powerful and interesting parts, to be asking for something so basic and level.


    ¡°Uh, I just need a few micro-gears and high-tension springs.¡±


    Tecklock paused, staring at me, before throwing his head back and laughing.


    ¡°Micro-gears and high-tension springs, he says. Can¡¯t get them at the market square?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ve been out for a week,¡± I said, wincing as the words left my mouth. I immediately knew I¡¯d made a mistake, and Techlock¡¯s face showed that he¡¯d processed the situation fully and was well ready to take advantage of it.


    ¡°No micro-gears or high-tension springs at the market, eh? What an amazing thing to find out about.¡± He rubbed his hands together greedily, the sound of his skin on skin grating my ears. ¡°The mundane world of serfs is not one I wish to know, Alaric. Come with me.¡±


    Moving away from the front tables, we moved towards the back where items began to come piled in bins and drawers.


    ¡°So how much is it gonna cost me?¡± I asked, wondering how much damage I¡¯d done myself in the last few minutes.


    ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t know there was a shortage,¡± Techlock said.


    I gave him a sour look. ¡°And?¡±


    ¡°Listen,¡± he said, putting his hands out in a manner that cried helpless innocence, ¡°It¡¯d be stupid of me to sell you these cheap if there aren¡¯t many about. I¡¯ll be selling my stock to the front, at a premium.¡±


    I frowned.


    ¡°You ass. You didn¡¯t even know there was a shortage until I told you.¡±


    Techlock cocked his head.


    ¡°Yeah, them¡¯s the breaks. I¡¯m not ungrateful, though. I¡¯ll give you a dozen of each at cost if you help me with another job I¡¯ve got.¡±


    A gadget crackled in the corner, grabbing my attention. It was a drab metal box, looking quite clunky and almost certainly a mid-tech military device, though I couldn¡¯t exactly understand its function. There were patches of scraped paint through which could be seen signs of rust and age, and the front of it held a cracked glass panel, behind which flashed numbers and a strange string of symbols. On the right-hand side was a series of dials, each of them marked by small white ticks, while the left side of it was simply a bunch of pinholes and jacks.


    Techlock¡¯s eyes followed my own and a wide smile stretched over his face.


    ¡°She¡¯s a beaut, ain¡¯t she? An old communication device, with alternating frequency hop, cyber scrambling, and a bunch of other tech functions that no one knows how to make anymore.¡±


    ¡°Sure is,¡± I whispered.


    He strolled over to the box and slapped it on the top.


    ¡°I use it a lot for the more illicit aspects of my otherwise respectable business if you catch what I¡¯m saying. However, this one isn¡¯t going to last much longer. That crackle you heard shouldn¡¯t be happening. Some quite irreplaceable parts are breaking down inside her.¡±


    I nodded, keeping a plain face.


    ¡°Sorry to hear it.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Not such a bad thing, though. I got hold of a scout scrip, Scavenger¡¯s order. The people who sold it to me made sure it never got to official channels, if you ken my meaning. Looks like an old military bunker. Pre-apocalypse. Was covered in a landslide during the rad storms and just plain forgotten til wind, rain, what-have-you uncovered it recently.¡±


    My eyes widened as I realized where he was going with it all. Everyone knew about the bunkers, bases, and ruins that littered the lands, often lost in the crumbling, blowing apocalypse that marked the end of the old tech world. They weren¡¯t tombs full of loot like you¡¯d think they were. Often they were dangerous affairs, populated by monsters, genetic experiments, or leftover security devices whose power switches had never been turned off.


    ¡°There is no way¡ª¡± I started.


    Techlock cocked his head and sighed.


    ¡°And why would that be? I won¡¯t just give you the parts you need, you¡¯ll also get a cut of the loot! I¡¯ve seen you run through the city. It¡¯s not like you don¡¯t have the agility and strength for a little bit of adventure. Plus the scout scrip said it was inert, meaning there¡¯s no power running. No robots to shoot at us. Should be easier than a walk to the store.¡±


    I sighed.


    ¡°Yeah, okay. So when were you planning for this little expedition?¡±


    He grinned.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have any appointments planned. And you¡¯re just a scavenger serf boy without any scavenging assignments, so no doubt you¡¯ve got your afternoon free. What do you say we grab some supplies and get started?¡±


    ¡°What, now?¡±


    ¡°No, in a month. Of course now!¡±


    I grumbled and sighed, casting a glance down at my serf bracer. What I was about to do was well illegal, but I still had almost a full day¡¯s time left on my outing and I really needed to get things started with the AI. I nodded.


    ¡°Alright. Show me the way.¡±

 Chapter 6

    Techlock and I made our way out of the black market''s back alleys, dipping through dirty gutters and ditches past the stuttering graphics of illegally obtained old tech holos and gleaming mid-tech neon signs. There weren¡¯t a lot of people in this area, given the price and importance of the merchandise here, so we made our way quickly and uncared for.


    Which was good, because if anyone here had wanted to know what was in our packs, they would have found a lot of gear worthy of interest.


    I adjusted the straps of my pack, mentally inventorying the items I carried. It was a dusty-green canvas affair with the enigmatic works US Army stenciled along its side in black paint at some time long past. The bag itself hooked nicely to a metal frame whose small bits of cut dangling circuitry suggested it might have been some sort of early mech exoskeleton back in its heyday; something that would have helped its users lug lots of gear over hard terrain quickly.


    Which would have been nice in the current situation. The bag was compartmentalized and quite heavy. Its first compartment was filled with ruin-scavenging essentials: durable, reinforced heavy work clothes to resist tears and electrical shock, steel-toed plasti-inlined heavy work boots, a utility vest with multiple pockets, a mid-tech all-in-one multi-tool, a heavy mid-tech battery powered electro-scanner, a ribbon of extra batteries, a grappling hook, a single torchlight, glow sticks, a ripsaw, wire cutters, a compact hack-picker, a lockpicking kit, a collapsible shovel, various small blades for skinning and harvesting, wickedly curved high-quality daggers for defense, a med-kit, anti-venom, and antidotes.


    The middle compartment was packed with survival gear, a fact that I initially balked at given the time limit on my bracer. Techlock had rolled his eyes and fiddled with it a bit before we left, saying that we¡¯d be back before time was up, but that he¡¯d also delayed the count as much as possible. With his hack, I had about 5 days to get home.


    Which was little comfort considering the gear he had me carrying. It felt like he was planning for a month. Alongside a laminated map sat an old-tech emergency ¡®squall¡¯ beacon, a camouflage green compass, a week¡¯s worth of water and food supplies, a compact tent, blankets, a firestarter kit, loot storage containers, a rad detector, a repair kit, a notebook and pen, binoculars, and a few other old-tech gadgets, their purposes yet to be discovered.


    I grumbled, thinking about it, and Techlock cast me a curious glance.


    ¡°Double-thinking our arrangement, Alaric?¡±


    We were out of the city now, and well into the start of the Wilds. The cobblestones and paving had given way to thicker, darker forest loam layered in dead leaves, all slowly declining towards a valley yet unseen. Above us, the foliage was dense and the sun struggled to come through, dappling instead of shining and turning everything into a dim, green glow.


    It was honestly a bit nice, taking in the scent of pine and damp earth, away from the oil and grease of the city.


    I shook my head.


    ¡°Nah. I¡¯m just wondering why I have to do all the carrying.¡±


    Techlock stopped walking, regarding me from behind his mask.


    ¡°I¡¯m a bean sprout, Alaric. Tall, lean, and not built for heavy things. Which is good for you, because otherwise, I¡¯d probably not need your services. Besides, isn¡¯t this better than hanging out in your little shop, doing odd jobs for other poors?¡±


    He looked down at me from his high perch, and I briefly wondered about how satisfying it might be to reach up and grab that long, thin beard of his, tugging it hard like a church bell tether.


    I chuckled at the thought, and he sighed.


    ¡°Yeah, I find the idea funny as well. Now, be a good little pack mule, and let¡¯s try to get to the bunker with all haste. The fact that it is so close and yet has never been discovered before means that there should be a great deal of great loot inside. It also means that the place will be swarmed over once its existence is fully revealed. Come,¡± he said, striding forward again in long-legged lopes down the slope before us.


    I gave my ruck a quick readjustment, pulling its straps and hopping in place to give it the tightest fit, then followed after. Crunching over leaves and listening to the twitter and flight of birds, it was just a few hours before we got to the place marked on Techlock¡¯s map.


    It was a set of bluffs that overlooked a white-water river. The sound of rushing water filled the air, a constant liquid rush that felt extraordinarily calming. I closed my eyes, imagining having the freedom to come here often and to just lie down and relax, maybe while reading a good book.


    Opening them back up, I took note of the rest of it. From the banks of the river, the walls of the river valley rose steeply, chaotic outcroppings of cracked rock alongside patches of muddy soil. They were dotted with thorny bushes and I suddenly felt a pang of hunger as I noticed patches of ripe, red raspberries glistening in the sunlight.


    The ruins of an old dam stood nearby, cracked and broken halfway down its middle. Water cascaded over the semi-circular breach in its center, creating a waterfall that sparkled as it fell, only to foam as it hit the river and rocks below.


    ¡°Probably chemical runoff,¡± Techlock sighed. ¡°Not sure we packed the right gear. The heavy work suit will help though. What do you think, Alaric? Should we don the suits now, or save them for when we get inside?¡±


    The day was hot and sunny, pleasant as we were dressed now. I could imagine that turning to a sweaty horror though if we were clad in the suits before climbing the bluffs to the Gods knew where.


    ¡°I don¡¯t even know where we¡¯re going, Techlock. But I do know one thing. I¡¯m gonna go get some of those berries first. Won¡¯t take too long!¡±


    Before he could respond, my pack was on the ground and I was stepping my way down, the broken surface of the bluffs offering up a tremendous number of easy foot and handholds. I had to go through a set of barren bushes, and these I bypassed as gingerly as I could, the thorns just barely scratching the flesh of my forearms as I went on through.


    Arriving at a wide stretching bush of berries, I dug in, taking them by the handful. The first went straight into my mouth, and I bit down. An explosion of taste followed. They were amazing! The rest went into my work pockets as Techlock watched from above, tapping his foot on the edge of the drop to signal it was time to move on.


    As I continued to pick, I glanced over at the ruined dam. The thing was obviously ancient, yet there it still was, hanging on amid a raging river.


    ¡°Hey, Techlock,¡± I called out, my voice echoing slightly off the rocks. ¡°Have you ever wondered who built that dam? And what caused it to fall apart like that?¡±Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Techlock paused, looking up from his own task, his eyes following my gaze to the dam.


    ¡°Every time I get a chance to see old tech, I wonder. Everything from then was amazing. So much power. So much worth. Us humans are nothing compared to what we once were,¡± he replied, his tone thoughtful. ¡°Which is why we need to get moving. Get your ass back up here, that¡¯s enough berries!¡±


    I laughed.


    ¡°Yeah, fair enough. So, where do we go from here?¡±


    Techlock studied the dam intently before pointing to its far bottom corner.


    ¡°Right there where the dam meets dirt. Was uncovered not long ago, but I can¡¯t see it now. I bet it got silted over. Shouldn¡¯t take much to uncover it.¡±


    I squinted in the direction he indicated, noticing a section of the dam that looked more intact than the rest.


    ¡°Yeah, alright. How are we gonna get over there?¡±


    Techlock chuckled from behind his mask.


    ¡°You¡¯re the parkour guy, Alaric. You¡¯re going to have to cross the river or leap the gap in the dam. Then you can throw me a line so I can pull myself over.¡±


    I glanced down at the rushing white-water river below us, its foamy currents looking anything but inviting.


    ¡°Cross the river or leap the gap? Not really my expertise, but it looks doable. Let¡¯s head over to the dam. I¡¯d rather jump than swim.¡±


    I climbed back up to where Techlock stood, sliding back into my pack. We started walking towards our destination, making our way past a large boulder and narrowly missing the telltale whitish green of radiant nettles. I let out a tense hiss when I saw them, imagining the week of itching that would have followed had any part of us touched them.


    Ducking and twisting through a dense copse of birch and cedar, we finally got to the side of the dam. A rusty fence blocked our path, its metal links twisted and overgrown with thorny vines. A locked gate stood in the center, the padlock covered in rust.


    ¡°Great,¡± I muttered, setting down my pack and pulling out the lockpicks. ¡°Just what we needed.¡±


    Techlock stepped forward, his eyes glinting with interest.


    ¡°Lock looks shit, but if it¡¯s old tech, I bet it still functions like new. Meaning I can work it. Just give me a second to crack it.¡±


    I handed him the lockpicks, watching as he deftly worked the lock. His fingers moved swiftly, each twist and turn of the picks letting out grinding clicks and soft metallic squeals. After a moment, it clicked open and Techlock looped it out of the gate latch, letting it fall into the leaf litter beneath us. He grabbed the gate and yanked it open with a torturous squeak, before stepping aside and gesturing for me to head on through.


    ¡°Nice work,¡± I said, taking back the picks and slipping them into my pack, before shrugging it all back over my shoulders.


    ¡°Wasn¡¯t a hard one,¡± Techlock replied, stepping through behind me. ¡°Was a Miltech R-Grade. Government standard. More of a ¡®Please Don¡¯t¡¯ than a ¡®You Won¡¯t¡¯. Got a few of them in my shop.¡±


    We made our way along the cracked and uneven walkway. It was quite wide, but patches of it looked untrustworthy, degraded by time, or in some cases, possibly compact. I stared in awe at the fewer weapon-grade craters that marked the top of the dam, imagining what sort of catapults could have caused them. The rocks had to have been massive, I realized.


    Or fired with gunpowder. I shivered to think of it. The stuff we had was unreliable and aimed poorly. But the Church said in the Wicked Times of old, they were more powerful than a bow fired by a hundred men.


    And I believed it. I once got to see an old-tech rifle get fired in a public demonstration by the Duke. The weapon¡¯s barrel was much thinner than a new tech rifle, and with a single shot, he was able to splatter a line of 20 melons before blowing a hole through the metal plate he had placed at the end of the line.


    I shook my head of the thoughts, instead focusing on the gap. I stepped over some weathered debris, blown branches, and scattered stones, scanning the other side for a good landing spot to grab onto. Here the sound of the river and subsequent waterfall grew louder, the white water churning and foaming as it cascaded over the broken dam.


    When we reached the gap, I paused, assessing the distance. It was a doable jump, but what got me was the drop. If I failed, I¡¯d fall hard into the waterfall, then get sucked down a raging rapids through huge rocks and certainly be brained, then drowned. I cast a questioning look back at Techlock, who answered with a large body-encompassing shrug.


    ¡°Yeah, fine, I can do it,¡± I muttered, trying to convince myself as much as him.


    I dropped my pack and retrieved the grappling hook, threading it with sturdy rope. With a few practiced swings, I launched the hook across the gap, watching it catch securely onto a metal protrusion on the other side. I tied the end of the rope around my waist, making sure the knot was tight and secure.


    Taking a deep breath, I took a running start and leaped across the gap. For a heart-stopping moment, I was suspended in mid-air, the roar of the waterfall filling my ears. Then my feet touched down on the other side, small rocks sliding out behind me to fall into the roaring water. Pin-wheeling my arms, I pushed my balance forward and just barely kept my space, dropping to my knees and yelling incoherent excitement into the sky.


    ¡°Nice jump,¡± Techlock called out, his voice carrying a note of admiration.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I said. I untied the grappling rope from my waist and unhooked it from the rock, then turned and threw it to Techlock''s side where he secured it as well as he could. I tied the rope to a boulder on my side, using a tight no-slip knot, then shot him a thumbs up. ¡°Your turn. I¡¯ve got the rope anchored.¡±


    Techlock gave me a thumbs-up and began to pull himself across, hand over hand. His movements were steady and precise, if a bit shaky, and soon enough he was standing beside me on my side of the dam.


    ¡°Made it,¡± he said, slightly out of breath but grinning. ¡°Now, let''s find that bunker.¡±


    We moved forward, reaching another gate blocking our path. This one was just as rusty as the previous one, but it didn¡¯t look as secure. I waited for Techlock to work the lock. This time, it took even less time, and with a satisfying click, the gate swung open and we stepped through.


    Beyond the gate, the path was overgrown with thick foliage. We pushed our way beyond, the thorny branches scratching at our clothes and skin. The air was filled with the stink of itchweed, so we moved slowly, making sure we didn¡¯t touch anything that didn¡¯t want to be touched.


    We reached the edge of the bluffs and began our careful descent. The thorny branches made the climb tricky, but as we went I noticed some more berry bushes chock full of fat, ripe raspberries and I couldn¡¯t help myself. I paused to grab a few more handfuls, popping them into my mouth.


    ¡°Really?¡± Techlock asked, before chuckling. ¡°Ah, yes, I understand. Serfs don¡¯t really get much fruit, do they?¡±


    ¡°The basic rule of serfdom is if you can buy it and it is fruit, it tastes bad,¡± I said, grinning. My teeth were already stained bright red.


    He laughed and continued his descent and I followed, carefully navigating the rest of the thorny branches and loose rocks. After a short while, we finally reached the bottom.


    There, a narrow ledge ran along the base of the dam. The roar of the waterfall was deafening, and a heavy spray of mist rolled over us, covering our sweaty bodies. We peered about the place, and kicked at the dirt, before seeing the first patch of clearly artificial and supernaturally strong plasti-steel. It was a patch of wall that had letters and numbers engraved into it, and I traced my fingers over them as I read them out loud.


    ¡°HYDRO-BUNKER 3A, MIDWEST. US CIV CORPS XI. Any idea what that all means?¡± I asked without bothering to look up.


    I could see the shadow of Techlock move closer as he read it over my shoulder.


    ¡°Not much. The US thing appears a lot on old tech. Makes me wonder if our ancestors weren¡¯t maybe a political collective. No serfs or kings, just everyone helping everyone.¡±


    ¡°That sounds nice,¡± I replied.


    Techlock laughed.


    ¡°Sounds to me like a place where no work would get done. Speaking of, let¡¯s get this cleaned up and find the opening hatch. And the electro-lock.¡±


    I set down my backpack and got out the collapsible shovel, while he searched for the hacking device. Assembling the shovel, I quickly shoved and threw dirt out of the way, easily displaying the bunker access door and its electro-lock console to the outside world.


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get to work,¡± Techlock said, pulling out his hacking device. ¡°Come close and pay attention. You might learn something.¡± He knelt and began to brush away the remaining silt and debris, before fingering over the port and pinholes on the side of the electronic keyboard of the lock. Threading wire from his hacking device, he plugged a rainbow of cords from it into the lock, then paused as the screen scrambled, displaying a series of strange characters alongside a smattering of real words.


    I watched him closely. It was all easy enough to follow, and I was rather sure I could emulate him in a pinch if necessary.


    Kneeling, he typed the first of the words into the lock and yelled a fat big ¡°YES!¡± into the sky when the console beeped. The entry lock began to grind and click then, clear sounds that it was about to open.


    ¡°Ready for some good scavenge?¡± he asked.


    I nodded, mesmerized. I¡¯d never been in a bunker that hadn¡¯t been pre-cleared. This was going to be something else.

 Chapter 7

    The bunker door sparked lightly, orange embers leaping out from some semi-seized locking mechanism before grinding past its blockage and whirring to life. The circular old tech door groaned in protest as it began to move, its gears grinding and clunking as they struggled to turn. Finally, there was a loud metallic thud, and the heavy bunker door began to cycle open.


    I listened in fascination as streel bolts retracted, gears spinning, and electronic devices beeping from somewhere within. A steady stream of static played out from some hidden speaker, hints of words buried in their crackle, but I couldn¡¯t make out any of them. There was a loud hiss of pressurized air as the door sank into the structure. It stopped moving and shuddered a moment, groaned, then continued on,  rolling out of view and revealing a dark and musty interior. The scent of ancient metal and dust wafted out, bringing to mind tales of ancient kings and their tombs.


    ¡°Time to suit up,¡± Techlock said, pointing to the pack. I dropped it and opened its compartments.


    We pulled everything out and worked over it, putting on the heavy work clothes first. I noticed that the interior was lined with rubber and coal, the same with the boots, and that they also had hoods on them that could be pulled over our heads and secured tightly to the rest of the clothing to form an airtight seal. I raised an eyebrow and took a moment to look at Techlock.


    ¡°Mid-tech scavenge gear. I¡¯m not sure of the why of all of it, but it¡¯ll keep us safe against possible radiation and chems. Plus the goggles on the hoods and air filters should keep us from getting dust in our eyes and lungs. It¡¯ll be hot, but it¡¯ll keep us safe.¡±


    I moved to pull my shoes off, and Techlock put a hand on my shoulder.


    ¡°Put it over the stuff you have on now. Works better that way.¡±


    I shrugged and did as he told, tugging and pulling until everything was to his satisfaction, chuckling as I looked him over.


    The midtech scavenge suit clung tightly to his form, giving him an almost mech-like appearance. The heavy work clothes were a dark, matte black, absorbing the light and making him blend into the shadows around us. The rubber and coal lining added bulk, making his already tall and lean frame appear both fatter and more imposing.


    The hood of the suit was pulled up over his head, the airtight seal creating a smooth, unbroken surface that encased him completely. The goggles on the hood were large and round, reflecting the light at strange angles and giving him the appearance of some strange insect. They were tinted a dark green, making it impossible to see his eyes and adding an eerie quality to his look.


    Beneath the goggles, a small round air filter covered his nose and mouth, a compact device that hissed softly as he breathed. The filter was chipped but looked functional, and its matte black made it blend in with the rest of the ensemble.


    He put out his arms.


    ¡°How do I look?¡±


    ¡°Ready for the King¡¯s Court,¡± I said with a wink.


    ¡°You too,¡± he replied. ¡°Belle of the ball. Come on, the day waits for no one.¡±


    We dug through the rest of the gear, strapping utility vests overtop our suits, and then fitting our tools in the numerous pockets and compartments. We strapped our daggers and their sheathes to our right side and everything that we could fit into a vest we placed back into the rucksack. Techlock grabbed the rusted and boxy rad detector, twiddling with its tubelike sensors, and adjusted them to face the door.


    It clicked faintly.


    ¡°Normal radiation here, but I¡¯ll keep this in my vest to keep doing periodic checks. How about you shine the torchlight and I man the electro-scanner?¡±


    ¡°Sounds like a plan,¡± I answered.


    I picked up the torchlight, marveling at its mid-tech design. The body was crafted from a sleek, matte black metal that had grooves forged into the metal to make it easier to handle. There was a textured rubber grip adhered to the grooves that provided extra gripping traction, and near the base of it, a series of small, triangular vents spat small wisps of steam after I turned it on.


    I noticed there was a rotary dial on the side that allowed me to adjust the brightness and beam width, switching easily between a narrow, intense beam and a wider, softer illumination. And next to that was a meter that indicated current battery power. At present, it was fully charged.


    Techlock indicated the open bunker door with a nod.


    ¡°After you,¡± he said, his voice slightly muffled by the air filter.


    I stepped forward, raising the mid-tech torchlight and shining it into the dark, musty interior. The beam cut through the shadows, revealing an entrance foyer that held an odd assortment of relics from a bygone era.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Directly in front of me was a metal and plastic desk, its surface covered in a thick layer of dust. Papers, a dead computer terminal, and a single old tech printing device were scattered across it, remnants of whatever operations had taken place there. Behind the desk, a defensive pillbox loomed, its narrow slits designed for guards to watch and defend the entrance.


    Behind the pillbox, another circular bunker door stood, larger and more imposing than the first, its metal surface marred with scratches and rust. The writing on it was the same as that of the outside door, ¡®HYDRO-BUNKER 3A, MIDWEST. US CIV CORPS XI¡¯.


    But what caught my attention most were the vending machines lining the left wall. There were four in total, each one offering a strange glimpse into the past.


    I walked over to them, Techlock following close behind.


    The first was a soda vending machine, its faded labels advertising long-forgotten brands. The machine itself was decorated with red, white, and blue stars and stripes, proudly proclaiming Refreshing Freedom in Every Sip!


    I stared at the word freedom. Seemed to tie in with that whole ¡®us¡¯ theme that the ancients had bandied about. I looked over the product selections curiously. They had names like Eagle Cola, Liberty Dew, Patriot Pepper, Stars & Stripes Soda, and Freedom Fizz. Next to the names were pictures of their can design, one sporting a giant eagle holding a red, white-and-blue flag, while another had some old angry man wearing the same flag as clothing, pointing his finger and screaming at us. The Liberty Dew had a statue of a queen holding a torch up into the sky, while the Freedom Fizz seemed to display some old ancient battle.


    I stared at that one for a while, imagining a sky filled with explosions of red, oranges, reds, pinks, and blues, and how horrifying it must have been despite the obvious beauty that the blasts created.


    Techlock put a hand on my shoulder.


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s a bit overwhelming, isn¡¯t it? Looking into the past is a strange and emotional thing to do. But best not to get caught up in it, Alaric. Let¡¯s once over the other machines, then check back in with it all if we aren¡¯t full of loot by the time we leave this place.¡±


    I sighed.


    ¡°Do you think any of it is still drinkable?¡±


    Techlock shrugged.


    ¡°Probably. Made by the ancients. Anything¡¯s possible with them.¡±


    We moved on to the snack machine, looking at the items within.


    There were Stars & Spuds Potato Chips that promised, ¡®Crisp Freedom in Every Bite!¡¯ Freedom Fritos, which from the packing looked to be yellow-colored baked corn stars. The snack labeled Liberty Rings seemed to be the sliced layers of an onion, but dried like jerky. Scrolling through all the items, from a top shelf labeled A1 all the way to the bottom shelf labeled G1, the most remarkable of the snacks was one called Liberty Logs. They were finger-shaped chocolate that looked so thick to have certainly cost a small fortune, and each promised a ¡°Crisp Sweet Independence in Every Log.¡±


    The third machine was more unusual. There was no clear window through which to see the stock, and although the words at the top said it was an ¡®ammunition vendor¡¯, its attached old tech screen showed not even the slightest flicker of life.


    I shot Techlock a look.


    ¡°These have got to be worth their weight in gold. Should we crack them open?¡±


    Techlock sighed.


    ¡°Yes, possibly. But selling them is going to have to go through the Bandit Lords, which have its own set of difficulties. No one my stature has any customers with an old tech rifle. Functioning ones are legendary; they wear out and keeping them functional takes a great deal of skill and attention.¡±


    I nodded and moved on. The last machine was much the same way, though I couldn¡¯t understand the product that it held. It offered a variety of ¡®Play Cards¡¯, but offered no view of the product, and the screen was just as dead as the previous one had been. I glanced over at Techlock, saw his tremendous lack of interest, and didn¡¯t bother to ask any questions.


    This find was worth very little it seemed.


    We moved over to the desk next, examining the papers scattered across its dusty surface. The documents were yellowed with age, the ink faded and barely legible. Most of the papers seemed to be old reports and memos, their contents unimportant now. Still, I sifted through them, hoping to find something of value, but it quickly became apparent that there was nothing worthwhile there.


    ¡°Anything?¡± I asked, glancing up at Techlock as he worked through his own pile.


    He shook his head.


    ¡°Just old junk. Nothing useful.¡±


    We turned our attention to the defensive pillbox next, its concrete walls were stained and chipped. Inside, we found a few rusted-through rifles and some rust-mulched ammo cans, but nothing good. I cast a glance back at the ammunition machine.


    ¡°You sure we can¡¯t crack that open and sell what¡¯s inside?¡± I asked.


    Techlock grunted.


    ¡°There¡¯s a system to the black market, and I¡¯d be dead within a day if I sold those myself. And, let me tell you, you don¡¯t want to sell them to the ones who can. They cause a lot of problems when you enter into business with them. Will be better to sell them the location and specs than to loot and sell it personally.¡±


    It was understandable. Everything worked like that in the city. Everyone had their place, and every place had their restrictions.


    ¡°Fine. Why don¡¯t you open that door so we can find something that we can scavenge.¡±


    Techlock nodded, moving towards the imposing circular bunker door at the far end of the room. It was larger and more intimidating than the first, its surface covered in intricate patterns of rust and decay. He pulled out his hacking device, the same one he had used on the initial door and began to work on the electro-lock.


    ¡°Keep an eye out, Alaric,¡± he said, his focus on the task at hand. ¡°This might take a bit.¡±


    I watched as he again forced the system to provide its data, then worked through the words to force its opening. The bunker door sparked lightly, then proceeded to open much more smoothly than the first one had.


    Static shot out again, but this time it was somewhat legible. Through the crackling noise, a garbled voice emerged, distorted but recognizable.


    ¡°Welcome . . . to . . . hydrobunker 3A, Midwest . . . US Civ Corps 11 will facilitate your entrance into society.¡±


    Music played, a medley that I¡¯d seen in the prayer books, and I found myself clasping my hands together as it rolled through the chamber.


    The rockets¡¯ red glare, the bombs bursting in the air . . .


    I glanced back at Techlock and saw that he too had his hands clasped together. We waited in worship until the song finished, and moved to a defensive stance, our daggers in hand, when the lock began to cycle.


    As we watched, the door recessed and rolled out of view. I brought up the torchlight with my other hand and cast it within. We were greeted by the sight of a long metallic corridor, damp shining from its floor and mold clinging to its sides.


    ¡°Well that looks inviting,¡± I quipped as we stepped forward.

 Chapter 8

    We stepped into the bunker, and immediately light lit up above us. I clicked the torchlight off, stuffing it into one of the slots in my tactical vest, and looked over the scene before us. The walls, despite their metallic nature, had obviously once been painted a pristine white, and patches of the paint still clung to areas of the walls. But the walls themselves were cracked and rusted in many places, with pipes exposed by their gaps. Occasional drops of water echoed through the walkway, falling from small rusted-through holes above.


    The lighting of the corridor flickered and struggled, making me wonder if they weren¡¯t right on the edge of failure. As we strolled forward, I noticed old tech security cameras hanging loosely from the ceiling, their bodies brown and cracked, their lenses non-existent. The air was thick with the scent of mildew and musk, mingled with the faint smell of something chemical.


    We moved deeper, coming to an intersection, a sign hanging from the ceiling above us. An arrow to the left indicated ¡®RESIDENCES¡¯ while an arrow to the right was marked ¡®HYDROELECTRIC CENTER¡¯ and a third arrow pointed forward, delineating the direction as ¡®ALL OTHER FUNCTIONS¡¯.


    ¡°So, where are we heading, Techlock?¡± I asked.


    Part of me desperately wanted to check out the residences and see what happened here and why it was abandoned. I had a feeling that the good scavenge was elsewhere, though, and Tech would know that.


    ¡°Let¡¯s push ahead,¡± he said after a half-minute¡¯s worth of thinking. ¡°We can check hydro on the way out, but I¡¯m guessing the stuff there will be too heavy or high value to be carried out and sold properly.¡±


    We walked in silence, observing the place and trying to imagine what it must have been like in the days of old. Despite what the directions on the previous sign had noted, we passed a short row of residences, their doors all open to sight. Within lay lightless interiors that, when brightened by my torchlight, were shown to hold rotted and cracked beds, lockers, and a scattered mess of personal belongings obviously left behind by the bunker''s original occupants. The beds were rusted and the mattresses disintegrating, but they hinted at the lives once lived here.


    Hitting another junction, we spied a communal area straight ahead, with another sign indicating we could find medical attention to the right or meet the overseer on the left. We peeked into the cafeteria, its stuttering lights showing overturned tables and chairs, as well as floor stains that might have been coffee or blood. A large, cracked screen on the far wall bore the name US Civ Corps XI, and a few broken game consoles were scattered across the floor, their wires frayed and tangled.


    ¡°Med bay,¡± Techlock grunted. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±


    We turned, moving up to the medical bay. The lights in the corridor shone brighter and were evidently in better shape than the others we¡¯d seen thus far.


    The floor was damper, the air more humid, and a thick slimy musk filled the air. Techlock and I exchanged a glance.


    ¡°Something here isn¡¯t right,¡± I whispered.


    Techlock slipped his hand to his dagger belt, arming himself and I followed suit. Turning a corner in the corridor, we came in sight of the med-bay and saw that the door to it was halfway open, a faint, flickering light coming from within. I tightened my grip on the torchlight and dagger, ready for anything.


    Techlock positioned himself to my left, his own dagger held up in two hands.


    ¡°Ready?¡±


    I nodded, stepping forward slowly and with as little sound as I could muster. Pushing the door open the rest of the way, I shone my light over it and checked the surroundings. The equipment inside was all advanced old tech, and rusty but some of the dials and bulbs still flickering with life. Rows of medical beds lined the walls, many of them overturned or broken. Cabinets hung open, their contents spilled across the floor.


    Techlock stepped in behind me just as a low, guttural growl echoed through the room, sending a shiver down my spine. I swung the torchlight in the direction of the sound, revealing a corner shrouded in shadow. The beam of light caught a glimpse of movement, something large and misshapen lurking just out of sight.


    ¡°Techlock,¡± I said quietly, ¡°we''re not alone.¡±


    He nodded, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the room.


    ¡°From the smell, I didn¡¯t expect we would be. There have been tales of mutants and monsters in these bunkers. Some run away, but some of them fight. Be ready.¡±


    Suddenly, the creature lunged from the shadows, its form grotesque and twisted. It was once human, that much was clear, but now it was a horrifying amalgamation of flesh and mutation. Its skin was mottled and leathery, stretched taut over protruding bones. Glowing yellow eyes stared at us with a mix of hunger and rage.


    I barely had time to react as it charged, its claws swiping at me. I dodged to the side, shining the torchlight directly into its eyes, hoping to blind it. Techlock moved in quickly, slashing at the creature with his dagger. The blade cut into its flesh, but the beast barely seemed to notice, driven by a primal fury.


    I racked my brain for a solution, remembering the old tech I had seen scattered around. My eyes darted to a defunct medical console on the wall. ¡°Techlock, keep it busy!¡± I shouted.


    He nodded, engaging the creature with swift, agile movements, buying me the precious seconds I needed. I sprinted to the console, yanking off the back panel and exposing a tangle of wires. My hands worked quickly, stripping wires and reconfiguring the circuit. Sparks flew, and the console hummed to life.


    The creature turned its attention to me, sensing the disruption. It roared, charging me. Just as it was about to come in striking distance, I hit a final switch, directing a powerful electrical surge into the puddle of water between Techlock and me. The creature convulsed, its body wracked with electricity. It collapsed, twitching and smoking, before finally falling still.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Techlock joined me, breathing heavily.


    ¡°Brilliant job, Alaric. But how¡¯d you know that we wouldn¡¯t get fried also?¡±


    ¡°Rubber suits,¡± I panted, patting myself on the chest.


    He chuckled.


    ¡°Yeah, makes sense. I never would have thought of it, though. You¡¯ve got a good head on you.¡±


    I nodded, my heart pounding in my throat and even my ears ringing.


    ¡°Thanks. But I don¡¯t need praise right now. There might be more around. Let''s get moving and stay alert.¡±


    We scanned the room, and sure enough, another mutated figure lurked near the far corner. This one was slightly smaller but no less threatening. I grabbed a nearby metal tray and quickly fashioned it into a makeshift shield, using it to deflect the creature''s swipes while Techlock prepared to move in and strike.


    ¡°Over here, you ugly brute!¡± I shouted, drawing the creature''s attention to me.


    It charged, and I braced myself, the impact pushing me back but I held firm. Techlock slipped behind it, slashing at its legs and bringing it to the ground.


    Seizing the moment, I used the remnants of the electrical trap, pulled the creature toward its dead friend, and dropped the wires into the puddle. It fried the creature, but the electricity disappeared. Must have been a breaker I guessed.


    Breathing heavily, Techlock and I exchanged a glance of relief.


    ¡°Let''s find what we need and get out of here,¡± Techlock said, his voice steady but urgent. ¡°This place is more dangerous than I thought.¡±


    I stared at him from behind my goggles.


    ¡°You¡¯ve never scavenged a new bunker before, have you?¡±


    ¡°Nah. But don¡¯t get caught up on that. This is going to be well worth the trip, just wait and see. And I¡¯ve got you here. We may be two first-timers, but we¡¯re first-timers with skills!¡±


    I laughed, looking around the bay for more of the beasties. There was a door at the far end that led deeper into the medical section, and next to it, I saw a computer whose green power lights gleamed and beckoned. Techlock moved to the terminal and began typing, his fingers flying over the keys with practiced ease.


    ¡°The network is still online, despite a partial power outage,¡± he muttered, more to himself than to me. ¡°I¡¯m pulling up the directions to the storage room.¡±


    As he worked, I peered over his shoulder and noticed a section labeled Journal on the screen. My curiosity piqued, and I tapped Techlock on the shoulder.


    ¡°Hey, can you open up that journal section? Maybe we can figure out what happened to this place.¡±


    He hesitated, his fingers pausing mid-typing.


    ¡°We should focus on the storage room,¡± he said, though his tone lacked conviction.


    ¡°Just a quick look,¡± I urged. ¡°It might give us some insight. Come on.¡±


    With a reluctant sigh, Techlock nodded and navigated to the journal entries. The screen filled with lines of text, the first entry dated from a time that must have been a thousand years ago. We began to read, the terminal¡¯s screen casting a pale glow over our faces.


    * * * * * * * * * *


    Journal Entry 1:


    Date: March 23, 2124


    Today we engaged with enemy forces at the dam. Counter-artillery kept most of their missiles from hitting us, but enough managed to get through that most of the hydro-generators are offline. We¡¯ll definitely have our work cut out for us to get power rolling again. The aliens are tough, but we¡¯re tougher. I saw a bit of the battle. X-7 mechs from the 3rd ACR rushed in to help push back their attack, and I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen a battle near so epic. They left!


    There might be a problem, though. Some of the super soldier mutagens cracked and infected local staff. We¡¯ve administered limiters and blockers post-exposure, but it''s not the way these things are supposed to be done and I¡¯m not sure what will come of it.


    We¡¯ve alerted all the personnel and civilians of the facility and made preparations to leave and seal the base behind us if the afflicted lose their minds. With the dam down, we might not be needed here anyway. Signing out. God help us all.


    * * * * * * * * * *


    We exchanged a look of shock and disbelief.


    Mutagen?


    Techlock scrolled through a few more entries, each one detailing the deteriorating situation. The mutations grew worse, the once-human inhabitants of the bunker turning into monstrous beings driven by primal instincts. The final entry was particularly haunting.


    * * * * * * * * * *


    Journal Entry 7:


    Date: April 15, 2124


    We¡¯ve lost control. The mutated personnel are attacking anyone on sight. We can¡¯t stay here any longer. I¡¯m ordering the last remaining civilians to evacuate. Enemy forces have been spotted in the area anyway ¡ª let them find the bunker and deal with the mess. I feel bad about leaving them like this, but with Washington nuked we¡¯ve lost comms to HQ, and it seems likely we¡¯ll be needed elsewhere. This is Dr. Murphy, signing off.


    * * * * * * * * * *


    The screen went dark as Techlock closed the journal, his expression somber.


    ¡°That mutagen¡­ it turned the people here into those creatures we just fought. No wonder this place was abandoned.¡±


    I nodded, my mind racing with thoughts of the pre-apocalypse world.


    ¡°They were fighting the alien enemy and dealing with experimental tech beyond our understanding. It¡¯s incredible how advanced they were, and terrifying what happened because of it.¡±


    Techlock stared at the console, then opened a search program. As I watched, he typed the word ¡®mutagen¡¯ into its bar.


    * * * * * * * * * *


    Terminal Entry:


    Date: April 1, 2124


    Mutagen X02 accidental release has given us ample opportunity to observe its effects in the field. It has failed in many critical ways. Instead of enhancing physical and cognitive abilities, it has warped the DNA of subjects, apparently combining them with natural DNA samples found in the local water supply. This would have been controlled had the mutagen been administered with appropriate blockers and limiters beforehand. However, administering them after exposure has proven to have had no effect.


    Critically, the mutation that our colleagues are still undergoing has proven to be communicable; a scratch or bite from one of their kind can spread the mutation to other humans. We still hope to find a cure, but preparations have been made to move everyone out if things become untenable.


    * * * * * * * * * *


    Techlock returned to the search bar, this time typing ¡®mutagen where?¡¯


    ¡°What are you looking that up for?¡± I asked, surprised.


    ¡°Might be a low-weight high-pay scavenge, Alaric. Definitely worth finding.¡±


    The terminal buzzed, displaying a map of the bunker with several key areas highlighted. Techlock scanned the entries quickly, his eyes lighting up as he found what he was looking for.


    ¡°Here we go,¡± he said, pointing to a section marked ¡®Laboratory Storage¡¯ in a lower level of the bunker. ¡°The remaining mutagen samples are stored here. It¡¯s a restricted area, likely containing other valuable old tech.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I grumbled. ¡°Fine. Let¡¯s get the loot and get out of here. This place is starting to give me the skin prickles.¡±

 Chapter 9

    Following the map that Techlock had sketched, we headed back to the cafeteria and then took a right, moving through a series of different corridors and sections, past places with exotic names like ¡®US ARMY RECRUITER¡¯ and ¡®NIGHT CLUB¡¯. We continued deeper into the bunker and took the quickest route available. Finally, we arrived at the lift device, a platform apparently designed to move straight up or down, quickly transporting people to their desired levels.


    I surveyed it, impressed with the concept.


    The platform was large and sturdy, made of thick, reinforced metal. Rails lined the edges, providing both safety and structure. Above, a network of heavy-duty cables and pulleys connected to a massive motor housed in the ceiling, which would power the lift with ease. I saw that the motor was rusted and covered in thick black tar. Doubtfully, I pushed the button next to the left door, and it opened with a heavy clank.


    ¡°After you,¡± I said. Techlock moved inside and I followed. However, when he hit one of the many buttons on the panel, the lift did nothing.


    The man cursed loudly.


    ¡°Looks like it¡¯s dead,¡± Techlock said, tapping the panel again.


    ¡°Figures,¡± I muttered, disappointed. I¡¯d been looking forward to trying the old tech out and seeing what happened. ¡°Stairs it is.¡±


    We turned away and walked a little way down the corridor, finding the door to the stairwell almost immediately. Taking a deep breath, I pulled the door open and we stepped through.


    The metallic winding stairwell stretched downward, a spiraling descent into the depths of the bunker. Each step echoed as we descended, the metal grates beneath our feet allowing glimpses of the levels below through the gaps in the steps. The stairwell was sturdy and there was no sign of structural damage, but it definitely showed signs of age, with rust creeping along the edges and joints. Flickering lights illuminated our path, casting intermittent shadows that all added up to a quite eerie atmosphere.


    As we neared the very bottom of the structure, where the mutagen was supposed to be stored, we saw a large sign posted along the wall: High-Security Area. Do Not Enter Without Approval From the Overseer.


    ¡°Think we¡¯ll get in trouble?¡± I joked.


    Techlock snorted.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got a feeling there aren¡¯t many constables in these parts.¡±


    We descended the stairs cautiously, the air now growing cooler and damper as we entered the bowels of the earth. The walls here were reinforced with metal, and we ran into several more signs warning of restricted access. We were almost there, though, when the silence was shattered by a loud, blaring alarm. Red lights flashed around us, bathing the stairwell in an ominous glow.


    ¡°That¡¯s not good,¡± I said, heart suddenly pounding in my throat. My dagger was back in my hand in an instant as was Techlock¡¯s.


    ¡°Move!¡± Techlock shouted. ¡°I¡¯ll try to find a way to shut it off.¡±


    As he sprinted ahead, the bunker¡¯s security systems activated, guns emerging from hidden panels in the walls. I ducked and rolled, flopping down the last of the steps and losing my dagger as bullets tore into the spot where I¡¯d just been standing.


    ¡°Focus,¡± I told myself, looking back up to the old tech turrets. They were moving in a jittery and broken way, slow and inaccurate, and that gave me an idea. Rising back up, I leaped forward up the steps into the line of fire, then did a cartwheel backward as the bullets again tore into where I¡¯d been standing. It was tough, and I almost took a full-on side-ass tumble back down the stairs, but I managed to halt my movement and retrieve my dagger before they could get another line on me.


    Moving with precision, I used the narrow confines of the stairwell to my advantage, slipping between the walls and the handrail, making it difficult for the automated turrets to get a clear shot.


    One turret swung towards me, and I lunged, driving my dagger into the glassy eyes of its sensor. Sparks flew, and the turret went dark. I rolled to avoid another barrage, my mind racing for solutions.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Come on, Techlock,¡± I shouted, dodging another blast of bullets.


    Though he was out of sight, I could hear Techlock dodging his own spits of automated fire.


    ¡°I see the terminal, but I¡¯ll be damned if I know how to get to it without getting chewed up!¡± he yelled.


    I flipped sideways out of another hail of bullets, then engaged the remaining stairwell turret with a series of feints and slashes, disrupting its targeting system. The security system was relentless, but so was I. And unlike it, I was moving smoothly, well on top of my game. My movements were a blur as I dodged left, then right, before jumping onto the remaining turret and spiking it through the camera hole.


    I sat down, panting, taking a moment to listen to Techlock curse from the next room. He was tapping hard at some keys, so it seemed likely he¡¯d figured out a way through. My hands shook and I felt drained. Hungry. Sleepy. Hurting all over.


    As if by magic, the alarms ceased, and the red lights blinked off. The remains of the turrets retracted, and from within the storage floor, I couldn¡¯t hear any more turret fire.


    ¡°Got it!¡± Techlock yelled from within, breathing heavily. ¡°Security system is offline.¡±


    It was then that I could feel the sting on my leg. Looking down, I saw that a round had ripped through my protective pants. Panic shot through me as I reached down to check the wound, but I let out a long and giggling sigh when I realized it was just a bloody graze.


    ¡°You all good in there, Techlock?¡± I asked.


    He coughed and chuckled. ¡°Never better. You?¡±


    ¡°Flesh wound. Nothing serious, though. My suit is breached, so there¡¯s that.¡±


    ¡°Shit,¡± I could hear him curse and then something hit a wall with a loud clunk, only to follow up with a clattering sound. He must have hurled something into the wall. I shared his feelings, but it would have been a lot worse if the bullets had ripped through my leg, so there was that¡­


    ¡°You good to walk?¡±


    ¡°Sure am, Tech,¡± I shot back.


    Another short silence followed before he answered.


    ¡°Then let¡¯s get digging, kid. I didn¡¯t almost die for nothing.¡±


    We joined up and walked into the storage area, the first part appearing to have been some sort of security station and lounge for their security personnel. The room was better lit than we were used to at that point, and the walls were lined with lockers and shelves, some overturned, their contents spilled across the floor. Just like in most of the bunkers. Someone had gone through the stuff quickly and hadn¡¯t spared the furniture, probably figuring no one else would ever visit this place. Well, even in this state, it sure made for a great hiding spot. I reflected on it. Some repairs and cleaning could make it a spacious and comfortable home.


    A dusty, leather couch sat against one wall, its cushions torn and stuffing poking through. In front of it was a low table, cluttered with old magazines, empty coffee cups, and a deck of playing cards. Opposite the couch was a massive rectangle of plastic, within which were set numerous smaller screens, most cracked. A few of them still functioned, showing us other places within the bunker in real-time.


    As I looked, I noticed one area was a literal swamp, filled with the mutated creatures we¡¯d seen before. They seemed to be frolicking and playing, without any cares in the world, and I briefly wondered if they¡¯d miss the ones we killed.


    Maybe, but I highly doubted it.


    Underneath the surveillance screens, the control panel was a mess of wires and broken switches. If we took our sweet time, most of it was certainly salvageable. It was something I¡¯d think about if the storage rooms ended up being a bust.


    We continued to search the room. As I dug through lockers filled with rot and decay, my eyes caught on something intriguing. There, sitting at on an upper shelf, lay a handheld device. One encased by a sturdy, metallic casing. I picked it up, wiping away the dust to reveal its label: Portable Holographic Projector.


    ¡°This could be worth a fortune,¡± I said, showing it to Techlock.


    He nodded appreciatively.


    ¡°They sell well to those with the creds for it. That¡¯s a good find. Keep it safe.¡±


    We continued our search, coming up with some minor loot like batteries and a few energy cells, but then I hit the jackpot. A cavalry blade mounted on a memorial plaque. The blade was well-preserved, its edge still sharp. I noticed there wasn¡¯t a single speck of rust on it and wondered if I shouldn¡¯t keep it for myself.


    ¡°Nice blade,¡± Techlock remarked. ¡°Might come in handy.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d love to keep this as part of my claim,¡± I said, sheathing my dagger and putting my torchlight into a vest pocket before holding the new weapon up before me. ¡°I bet this could do a lot of damage if necessary.¡±


    ¡°Just make sure you don¡¯t stab yourself with it. Nothing in this world would probably save you from a wound like that.¡±


    I chuckled but nodded.


    Moving further into the complex, we found a hallway filled with doors labeled Storage 1, Storage 2, and so on. The air stank of muck and the floor was covered over with a thin layer of water that slowly ebbed in from underneath the doors into the corridor. It reminded me of what we¡¯d seen on the screens. Mutated humans in water-filled rooms. Would a few of them jump out at us once we opened the door? I kept myself prepared just in case.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Techlock said, glancing at the map. ¡°The mutagen should be inside Storage 2. Are you ready? We have no idea what¡¯s inside, so prepare.¡±


    ¡°Ready as can be, Tech,¡± I replied. ¡°The moment we get what we need, we¡¯re out of here. Okay?¡±


    ¡°Agreed. Grab and go. Sounds like a plan.¡±


    His hand landed on the handle and pushed down with a steady screech.

 Chapter 10

    We approached the door labeled Storage 2, its metal surface apparently once painted over by the painting of an eagle clasping arrows. It was still there, but the outlines that still remained were rusted and pitted, giving an elderly and wounded look to the divine symbol. I gripped the handle, feeling the a sucking resistance as I pulled. Techlock joined in, and our combined effort forced the door to budge, but with reluctance. It groaned as it gave way, a gush of water bursting out and  cascading over us.


    The water was ice cold, carrying a putrid smell that burned the inside of my nostrils. I gagged, feeling acid rise in my throat, as the water sloshed over my pant legs. It soaked through the outside of the pants, and I winced as water flooded my legs through the bullet hole from the turret, and then seeped into my wound. It burned even as the tide of it almost swept me off my feet.


    The water subsided, and we stepped into the storeroom. Rows of shelves stretched out before us, filled with military crates and supplies. The shelves were mossy and sagging, but some few still maintained their shape despite untold years of existence. Still sitting in the places they had been packed, mounds of mulched items and loot rotten over their embrace. It was a sad sight, but one that was made better when I spotted a small white packet labeled Chips, Salted. I snatched it out of the muck and added it to one of the pockets in my vest.


    ¡°Good find,¡± Techlock mumbled through his air filter. ¡°The packaging on a lot of this stuff is all that keeps it from being mush and dust. The ancients, they really knew how to keep stuff from going to hell.¡±


    He sidled over to a shelf and grabbed at a green and gray mess of moss and mold, ripping it off in layers that he slung into the murky water slapping at our feet.


    ¡°Like this,¡± he said, nodding his hooded head towards his find.


    I came over, checking it out from his side. Underneath the rot and ruin, there sat boxes of ¡®Bars, Choco¡¯. Most of them were shrunken in and ruined, but a few looked absolutely pristine, their white boxes seeming to glow with holy light as I reached out to grab one.


    Techlock slapped my hand, but laughed as he did so. I grinned under my hood, full well knowing the creds a box of these could muster.


    ¡°Seventy¨Cthirty,¡± Techlock muttered, pulling the good boxes out and stuffing them into one of our scavenging ziplo containers. They were a curious mesh of metal links and clear, malleable plastic, and you could easily fit and seal several thousand creds of loot in one of them.


    I chuckled, pulling my own scav-ziplo from my vest pouch.


    ¡°First come, most profit? You really are an asshole, Tech.¡±


    He shrugged, moving away from the shelf and further into the room, his eyes scanning the shelves for anything of value. I followed, each step splashing in the shallow stagnant water of the storehouse. It was much like a swamp, but unlike any of the swamps I¡¯d been to previously.


    Topside swamps had a lot of room in which to breathe, I realized. This one had nowhere to vent the gasses and decay that it produced. Even with the door now propped open, the air was almost too thick to breathe, and I gave thanks to the Tech Gods that we had air filters.


    I saw a promising mound on the next shelf and moved over to engage it, tearing the mulch off the top as Techlock had shown me before. It was a box labeled Gears, Micro, and next to it was another box labeled Springs, High Tension.


    ¡°For all the tricks in Harlotville,¡± I cursed aloud. I heard Techlock rush my way, splashing and clawing through the water in his haste, and didn¡¯t even bother to turn and look at him when he got to me and started laughing hard.


    ¡°Might be time for a renegotiation,¡± I grumped, picking up the boxes and stuffing them in my scav bag.


    ¡°Good luck with that,¡± Techlock responded, chuckling a bit more. ¡°Look, Alaric, I¡¯d be a shit business owner and probably broke if I let my heart tell me how to do my job. Just be happy that you¡¯ll get a nice cred kickback on those sales. Or, hell, you can stuff them in the shop when you get back and not have to deal with me for that much longer.¡±


    I cocked my head. It was a good point, one that I would definitely consider.


    ¡°Besides, we should probably hurry up and get done and out. Looks to me like you¡¯ve got at least a quart of water stuck in your boot.¡±If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    I glanced down at where the bullet had torn through my pant leg and observed my wound still trickling small spirals of blood into the semi-transparent greenish-brown murk.


    In doing so, I managed to catch sight of something else. I don¡¯t know if it was Techlock¡¯s goggles catching the dim lights above that brought me to look away at just the right time to exactly the right spot, but there, just above the water line on a lower shelf, a white and shiny object that absolutely caught my eye.


    ¡°Finders Keepers,¡± I yelled, splashing forward.


    Techlock turned and caught sight of the box and started to race after me. It was no contest, though, and I reached it well before he did.


    Stabbing my gloved hands through the mulch that overlayed the kit like bread on a sandwich, I tore it away from some light chitinous roots and squinted at it through the dim light. The case was white plastic, its corners embossed with some rustless metal, and its front was marked by the faint but universal lines that denoted health and science.


    This was gonna be something good for sure.


    ¡°Ah, damn,¡± Techlock said as he got closer. ¡°Well found, Alaric. Will be great creds for sure. Let¡¯s open her up and see what¡¯s inside.¡±


    ¡°Hold on,¡± I said, pulling the case closer to my face. There were faint words on the bottom. I put one gloved finger underneath them, sounding out the syllables as they came clear to me. ¡°Muta-Prep,¡± I intoned. ¡°Blockers and Limiters. That¡¯s the stuff they talked about in the journal entry, isn¡¯t it?¡± I asked.


    As I talked, I popped open the case and surveyed several intact plastic vials of various colors. Each was labeled with a letter and a number. I pulled the vial marked A1 out of its slot, and rolled the liquid, watching it spin inside. It looked like cherry juice, though maybe thicker and a bit more syrupy.


    I replaced it and checked the rest of the kit. Nestled beside the vials was a large, overly complicated, and frankly scary-looking injection device. It had multiple syringes and a series of dials and levers, giving it an appearance more akin to a torture device than a medical tool.


    ¡°Yeah. They said they used them too late and so they didn¡¯t work against the mutagen," Techlock said, inspecting the vials. "Something about this is giving me the devil¡¯s stink eye. It feels dangerous."


    I turned toward him, ready to make fun of his sudden cowardice, when my eyes caught sight of a large container in the back of the room. The light above it had directly gone out, but now I was close enough to read its faded, stenciled words. It was marked with a symbol showing three interlocking circles, and directly underneath that were the words ¡®Mutagen X02¡¯. My heart skipped a beat as I saw it was cracked, its contents leaking into the water that surrounded it.


    ¡°Uh, Tech,¡± I stuttered, my voice rising and my heart beating more quickly. ¡°Did those journal entries say why the blockers and limiters failed?¡± I asked, setting the case back down on the shelf, still open, and bent over to examine my wound.


    Nearby, Techlock stared over at the broken container and shook his head.


    ¡°Inject yourself. Now!¡±


    ¡°With what?¡± I asked, panic rising in my chest.


    I reached out to the kit, grabbed the cherry-fluid-like A1, and slotted it into the strange injection devices. Barely thinking, I grabbed a thicker orange B1 and slotted that as well. I noticed the injector still had one more open slot.


    ¡°What in the abyss do I put there?¡±


    Techlock lurched forward, grabbing randomly at the case and stuffing a blue liquid into the slot. Tearing the injector away from me, he grabbed my leg with one arm and lifted it up to the bottom shelf of the unit. Holding it there, he used his left hand to stab the needle of it into my calf, depressing the trigger of it.


    A loud mechanical whirr sounded, followed by some of the worst pain ever. It was the sensation of being stabbed, then having the knife be spun and twisted inside of me, before being hooked to an electro-lamp that was then burned hot to full power.


    ¡°Aaaaaah!¡± I screamed. I reflexively tried to kick my leg out, but Techlock held firm.


    ¡°Oh, no you don¡¯t. I know you think I¡¯m an ass, and I think you¡¯re an easy person to take advantage of, but that doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m going to let you wimp out and die on me.¡±


    ¡°Ah! Aaaah!¡± I screamed out in torn, breath-stripped gasps.


    The liquid of the injector was both flame and ice in my body, and I could feel it moving through me in pulsing waves. Whatever the liquids were, they weren¡¯t just solutions carried through the blood like the medicines of the mid-tech and present. No, I could feel a tangible presence tearing through me, like small little monsters nesting in my flesh and setting up shop within.


    ¡°Steady there, Alaric. I still need someone to carry my stuff for me on our way back,¡± Techlock growled.


    The fluid in the injector had drained, and he let go of my leg, slapping it back into the case and stuffing that into his scav bag.


    I kicked my leg off the shelf and reeled, my consciousness swimming laps around my body in a dizzying kaleidoscopic spin. I reached out for the shelf to steady myself, but instead missed and splashed face-first in the murk.


    ¡°Damn. Well, it was nice knowing you, kid,¡± Techlock said, his voice muffled and echoing. ¡°Would have liked for you to stay alive. Or human. Or whatever the hell is happening here.¡±


    I thrashed in the water, hearing my heart beat juicily in my ear. Water was splashing over my hood; thankfully it had drained enough at this point that it didn¡¯t go over my entire body. Instead, I thrashed on the floor, half-submerged in mutagen-tainted, possibly irradiated, and poisonous dirt water.


    ¡°Tech!¡± I gasped.


    It came out as a growl, and I could feel the muscles in my body bulging, something pulsing under the skin of my hands. In a furious panic, I tore off a glove and stared in horror as my fingernails grew out rapidly, and the veins in the back of my hand throbbed visibly.


    I was so royally fucked.

 Chapter 11

    I woke up in the original entry room of the bunker, lying without my suit and wrapped in blankets. My body felt sore all over, and a wave of dizziness hit me as I tried to piece together what had happened. Groaning, I sat up and looked around.


    Techlock''s presence startled me as he appeared from the shadows.


    ¡°Surprised to see me?¡± he asked with a smirk. ¡°Leaving you behind would have been the intelligent thing to do, but I guess there¡¯s some room in my life for stupidity.¡±


    ¡°What happened?¡± I croaked, my voice raw.


    He sighed, settling down beside me.


    ¡°You were thrashing like a madman. I thought you were about to become one of those monsters. But then you just... stopped. I moved in, checked you, saw you were still alive, and dragged you out to the lift. Popped the control panel off, twisted some wires together, and got it working just long enough to get us up here.¡±


    He pointed to a makeshift bed he''d set up.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been lying there for the past two hours, muscles pulsing and growing. It¡¯s been quite a horrific yet fascinating show. Thought about leaving a couple of times. Was about 50% sure you¡¯d turn into some sort of giant and crush me. But then I thought, hey, Tech, Alaric¡¯s a regular. Should probably stick around and see if there isn¡¯t something you can do.¡±


    I smiled wanly.


    ¡°Good to hear it all means something. Thank you Techlock.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m a big softie. Also, you¡¯ve got a lot of high-cred equipment with you. Would be a shame to lose it all over a false alarm.¡±


    I chuckled, then felt electricity spit through my body. It was minor, definitely muscle spasms, but it hit hard enough that my air whooshed out of my body and I found myself gasping heavily, curled up on my side.


    ¡°That bad, huh?¡±


    I nodded and began probing my chest with my fingers. It was tender and sore, but also much broader and thicker. Beneath my now large pecs was the beginning of a six-pack, and as I poked and prodded, my attention was drawn to my arms.


    I¡¯d never seen anything like them, apart from the soldiers and knights who were lucky enough to get core surgeries for strength.


    They had thickened into veritable meat logs, streaked through with visibly pulsing arteries and veins. I threw off my blankets and stared at my nudity in awe. My legs were tree trunks, though leaner like an Aspen and clearly still subject to the whims of my runner¡¯s build. I blew a sigh of relief over that. Would rather stay agile than become a big immobile brawler any day¡­


    I glanced over to where my leg had been bleeding from the bullet and saw that it was completely healed.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Techlock said and my eyes shot over to meet his.


    ¡°No idea if that¡¯s a thing that is going to keep happening or not, but I noticed it too.¡±


    It all made me feel dizzy. I held a hand to my forehead, feeling it for fever.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you think I changed into one of those monsters?¡± I asked.


    Techlock sighed.


    ¡°Luck, mostly. We had those items they talked about in their logs already in hand. We just got to you in time.¡± He nodded, seemingly running the idea through his head one more time. ¡°I think this is what the mutagen was supposed to do. Maybe if those poor bastards had gotten their shots in time, they wouldn¡¯t have gone all murderhobo.¡±


    ¡°Sounds to me like we should go back in and get some more, then.¡±


    His eyes gleamed with excitement.


    ¡°Yes! A simpler, easier way to achieve results similar to what the monster core surgeries can do? It¡¯ll cause trouble, of course. Bandit Lords will get involved. But maybe if we can keep it on the hard down low for long enough, we can be rich and gone before they even find out!¡±


    Sitting up, and stretching my new, stiff muscles, I couldn¡¯t help but shake my head at the hand the Goddess of Luck had dealt us. I had an alien AI sitting at home waiting to help me get rich. Now, there was this super medicine sitting at the bottom of this bunker waiting to do the same thing. Maybe, when we left the place, a bunch of cred chips would just randomly fall from the sky and into my rucksack.


    With how everything had been going to this point, it didn¡¯t seem that unlikely.


    I put my hand on the nearby wall and stood, making sure that nothing inside of me was ready to snap or break over the changes my body had undergone. Feeling nothing but new, raw power coursing through me, I walked over to Techlock, who watched me with wide and curious eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯m in if you are. Quick question, though. Are you going to take any of it?¡±


    Techlock was shaking his head even before I finished my sentence. ¡°No way. I¡¯m not kidding when I say that we need to keep this quiet. Just for ourselves. You''re nobody, so no one knows what you look like. But if I get ripped like you, that¡¯ll cause questions. Best I do it all after we¡¯re already out of town.¡±This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    I nodded and started helping Techlock pick the place up. He hadn¡¯t pulled out too many things from the rucksack, but it¡¯d be better to be on the move. It was almost certainly getting into the evening by now, anyway, and even with Techlock¡¯s adjustment to my serf bracelet, I knew I wouldn¡¯t have a lot of time.


    My mouth formed a big O as the realization that my serf bracelet wasn¡¯t on my leg anymore came to mind. I looked down where it had been, and Techlock grinned, pointing to where I had been lying before.


    ¡°Your muscles grew so quickly that they popped off before they could activate. Was the damnedest thing I¡¯ve ever seen, lad.¡±


    I snickered, the idea of storing some mutagen out of the city walls and using it to free serfs came to mind. Wasn¡¯t a bad idea.


    We checked over all the gear, making sure everything was in place. My former suit had been torn and discarded, so I donned a spare set of clothes from our packs, feeling the new muscles strain against the fabric.


    That was another thing I¡¯d have to deal with when we got back. Shopping for new clothes. I wondered what Elli would think of the new me, and how much time she¡¯d force me to stand around modeling clothes.


    ¡°Let¡¯s make a plan,¡± Techlock suggested. ¡°We stay ready for a fight in case some of the mutants come after us. The container is leaking, so we look around for a patch and see if we can¡¯t seal it. If that¡¯s a bust, we put as much as we can in the ziplo containers. They can hold liquid, so no huge problems there. Are a bit flimsy to outside damage, though, so we wrap them in blankets to cushion them.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I replied. ¡°Maybe one of us fills the ziplos while the other looks for a patch? Just to make sure we get as much of it as we can. We don¡¯t know how fast it is leaking out.¡±


    Techlock cocked his head.


    ¡°Yeah. Smart. Alright, we¡¯ll do that then.¡± He walked over to the shredded remains of my old protective suit and knelt down over it with a knife. Cutting at the fabric, he separated the hood and air filter from the rest of the mess. ¡°We can cinch this tight, might do you some good just in case.¡±


    ¡°In case of what?¡± I asked.


    ¡°In case of old-world bullshit.¡±


    He stood up, handing it over to me. I grabbed it, taking a few minutes to inspect the air filters and goggles, ensuring they were still functional. The last thing I needed was to go down in my new super body glory, only to choke to death on a weaponized fart.


    ¡°Alright, I think we¡¯re ready,¡± I said, feeling a mix of apprehension and excitement. ¡°Let¡¯s do this. I sure wouldn¡¯t mind another shot or two.¡±


    Techlock coughed and then slapped my arm.


    ¡°Are you nuts, lad? That¡¯s basically what you said last time. How about you stop tempting Lady Luck and we just get on with it already?¡±


    With everything in place, we clambered back into the main halls of the bunker. This time he wielded the torchlight while I held my newly looted saber in my right hand. I was beyond ready to test both my new weapon and body in combat. A smile rose to my lips when I imagined CD¡¯s response to all my changes.


    The walk back to Storage 2 felt different this time. Before it¡¯d all seemed mysterious and curious, but now it felt more threatening. I kept wondering if the mutants had found their dead and if they had the intelligence to come after us.


    After all, they¡¯d been human once.


    It was harder to walk through, knowing that every creak and gurgle might give away our presence and signal an attack. More than once I felt my heart in my throat over what turned out to be the moaning of a stopped-up pipe or the squeak of a rat.


    Techlock followed directly behind me, his movements cautious and quiet as he directed the high-intensity beam to light up all of the bunker¡¯s nooks and crannies.


    ¡°Think we¡¯ll actually run into more trouble?¡± I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. ¡°Maybe they¡¯re like bears; more scared of us than we are of them.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t count on it,¡± Techlock replied, his eyes darting to every shadow. ¡°If they¡¯ve got even half the humanity they once had, I guarantee you they are out for vengeance.¡±


    We moved cautiously, each turn and corner revealing more of the bunker''s neglected interior. The flickering lights cast eerie, dancing shadows that played tricks on the eyes. I kept my torchlight ready, its beam slicing through the gloom.


    We passed by the cafeteria again, its overturned tables and scattered debris a reminder of the chaos that had unfolded here. The sight of old, broken game consoles scattered across the floor made me pause.


    ¡°Kids used to play here,¡± I muttered. ¡°But this was a military outpost, so why did they bring their kids?¡±


    Techlock frowned.


    ¡°I think the Church books say that when the tribulations were at their height, friends and family all came together as a single fighting force. That¡¯d be kids, too.¡±


    Lying on his back yet in good condition, a teddy bear gazed up at me. In my mind¡¯s eye, I could see the kid, a little 8-year-old boy, running from the screaming monsters of the labs. Maybe even as the aliens smashed the dam above. Was harsh. I hoped it wasn¡¯t true.


    Fingers snapped near my ears and I jolted back to the situation at hand.


    ¡°Hey! Alaric! Keep your head in the game. No time for daydreaming.¡±


    I shook off the melancholic thoughts and we worked our way back through the rest of the cafeteria and to the lift. It was an exciting thing, stepping inside and seeing the buttons now lit up dully, a couple even flashing like an emergency SOS.


    Techlock reached over and hit one of them, and the door shut, before groaning loudly.


    ¡°Did it do that when you had it go up?¡± I asked.


    He shook his head, then braced himself. Now quite worried, I followed his lead as above I could hear the strained snapping of a cable slowly coming undone, overrun by the sputter and clank of its well-broken untrustworthy motor.


    The lift was moving, slowly, but the metallic twirl above told me that it might be better if it was moving a bit more quickly. The floor vibrated beneath my feet, and the walls seemed to close in as the lift shuddered and twanged its way downward. The flickering lights above us cast a sporadic glow, illuminating the rusted cables and the grime-coated walls.


    ¡°We¡¯re gonna die in this thing, aren¡¯t we?¡± I asked.


    Techlock grumbled something before stumbling forward and hitting all of the buttons. The lift stopped moving, and with it, the unraveling noise from above ceased.


    A metallic whining voice filled the compartment.


    ¡°9-1-1; what¡¯s your emergency?¡±


    The voice came from somewhere hidden, and I wondered what new mess we¡¯d just gotten ourselves into.


    ¡°Hello?¡± Techlock said, moving from his position of safety and pacing the compartment, searching for the source.


    ¡°9-1-1; what¡¯s your emergency?¡± the voice repeated.


    It was the same exact tone every single time, and I understood at once that we were dealing with a so-called automated system. Some of the older scavengers had told me about them before. They generally got ripped out and dismembered for parts. Not many of them were more than a recording.


    Still, they sometimes retained command functions that could be accessed audibly. Given the situation we were in, it seemed worth a try.


    ¡°Hi there! Yes, uh, the emergency. We¡¯re in a lift and it feels like it¡¯s about to fall apart and crash.¡±


    ¡°Processing query; Query processed. Help is on its way. Units have been contacted for dispatch. Estimated time of arrival is: never. Error, no units detected. Calculating alternate rescue.¡±


    Techlock shook his hooded head and sighed.


    ¡°Was a good try, for sure. Just wish it could have actually helped us.¡±


    He leaned back, slumping into the wall of the lift and letting himself slide to a plop on the floor.


    Above us, the lift cable twanged hard and we began to fall.

 Chapter 12

    It honestly felt like an eternity. I gripped the railing, my knuckles white, screaming as we plummeted blindly into the bunker¡¯s depths. The sensation of descending was both exhilarating and terrifying, the sort of feeling that I¡¯d pay good creds to experience if I were surer of a safe ending. The lift jolted for reasons unknown and began to clang side to side off the shaft itself, each loud bang making me wince. I closed my eyes when the lights went out, for all the good it did me.


    ¡°First time on a lift, hey?¡± Techlock asked, a hint of terrified amusement in his voice as he barely managed to stay on his feet.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. ¡°It¡¯s not exactly what I expected.¡±


    ¡°Welcome to the wonders of old tech. Just hold on; I think we¡¯re about at the bottom and I¡¯ve got a good feeling about the landing.¡±


    A sudden whooshing noise resounded from all around the lift, and we were momentarily weightless as everything slowed dramatically. I was flung up just enough to momentarily fly before falling heavily to the floor, the wind knocking out of me hard in a way that burped on the rubber seals of my salvaged protective hood.


    All motion stopped, but I was dead out of oxygen, and the filters of the hood were choking me, limiting the air supply that I needed to fill me up again. I tore off the hood and gasped loudly, laying on my back and staring up into the blackness.


    ¡°Glad that¡¯s over,¡± I muttered, doing my best to take in one breath of air at a time.


    ¡°Not over yet. Let¡¯s just hope there¡¯s a way to get these doors open,¡± Techlock replied through painful groans.


    A grinding, spitting noise sounded from the elevator door, and after a moment, part of its steel turned bright glowing orange. Using the dim shade of it as a guide, Tech found his torchlight and snapped it back on.


    ¡°Shit, lad, I thought we were gone for sure,¡± he chuckled after a short moment. ¡°Was quite a ride, huh?¡±


    I just stared at him.


    ¡°Tech, you can ride this kind of crap any time you want, just leave me out of it, okay? What would Elli do if I died in a shit place like this?¡±


    ¡°That girl of yours? Hah! She¡¯d be so dumb to wait for your return. Hot, with freedom and land. Can¡¯t think of anyone less worth her time than you. Except maybe barbars.¡±


    He looked away, shining the light around the elevator. The walls of the lift had contorted, looking like a half-crushed soup can from some strong man festival competition, dented in on all sides and from weird angles. But overall, it still looked durable enough that I marveled at the strength of its design.


    I didn¡¯t look for too long, though, backing up to where Techlock stood and eyeing the glowing spot in the door. It began to drip liquid metal and then, all at once, flaming sparks cut through the edges of the heated patch, going through and around it.


    I watched with a mix of fascination and apprehension as a small, tracked automaton emerged from the freshly cut hole in the elevator door. The cut metal still glowed faintly around the edges, casting an eerie orange aura over the thing as it rolled to regard us from the center of the elevator.


    It was about the size of a large shoebox, a sleek, metallic gray body with a chipped matte finish that absorbed rather than reflected light. Mounted on two continuous tracks, each studded with small, rugged treads, it looked well-prepared to take on some pretty hard terrain.


    Atop its chassis, a small but powerful cutting torch was still cooling down, wisps of smoke rising lazily into the air. The torch was mounted on a flexible, articulated arm that was now slowly folding back into its body. Beside the torch, a pair of multi-functional manipulator arms equipped with various tools¡ªwelding tips, gripping claws, and strange dialed scanners and probes¡ªwere neatly tucked in, apparently ready to spring into action at any time.


    The head was a glass orb filled with lightning, a line of green light cast forth from the blindingly bright nexus of its center to roll out over the two of us while we stood staring from the far end of the lift. A small speaker grill occasionally emitted soft beeps and chirps, while it finished rolling its lights over us.


    ¡°Disaster averted. G-g-g. Have a good day, soldiers. Hoorah! The o-o-only good alien is a dead alien.¡±


    It spun in a circle, turning to face the hole it had made. The same light that it had cast at us before now came out to roll over the hole it created. It beeped loudly on completion.


    ¡°Sabotage d-d-d-d-detected! Wireless networking offline. Proceeding to manual reporting mode!¡±


    A short and quick song rang out over its speakers, something I¡¯d heard played during monster battles at the wall before the Cataphracts charged in line, and I realized it might well be a military command. The little robot rolled off, speeding through the hole and out of sight.


    Techlock and I looked at each other and sighed.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    ¡°It¡¯s obviously broken if it can¡¯t remember that it just made that hole. Think it¡¯s gonna go report to other robots, who are going to think we are saboteurs that need to be eliminated?¡± I asked.


    Techlock nodded.


    ¡°Yes. That¡¯s absolutely what I think is going to happen.¡± He knelt and examined the hole. ¡°I can fit through, just barely. But I doubt you can. Got any ideas?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    I joined him and checked to make sure the sides of the hole were no longer hot, then used my newly gained massive strength to push one door open, and then the other. We strode out of the lift, and back into the familiar sight of the storage doors.


    ¡°Second time''s the charm,¡± Techlock said as he strode forward, heading back to Storage 2.


    I saw that the door had been closed, and I shot an alarmed glance at Techlock.


    ¡°I did it. Just a habit I guess. Still, keep a lookout. Let¡¯s stick to the plan, find this mutagen, and get out of here.¡±


    We approached the door to Storage 2 cautiously, our senses on high alert for any sign of danger. The memory of the last encounter with the mutants loomed large in my mind, and now I had the extra stress of possible robotic automatons coming for us as well.


    With a nod from Techlock, I gripped the door handle and yanked it open. It wasn¡¯t nearly as difficult this time, our previous entry having made it that much easier to get inside. The familiar rush of stale, fetid air greeted us, carrying the same pungent smell that had assaulted us the first time. We stepped inside, the beam of Techlock¡¯s torchlight cutting through the darkness, illuminating the rows of sagging shelves.


    ¡°Stay close,¡± Techlock whispered, his voice barely audible over the echoing drips and creaks of the bunker.


    We moved deeper into the room, our footsteps splashing in the shallow water that covered the floor. The crates and supplies, now more familiar, held a sense of foreboding. I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that we were being watched despite already having been inside once.


    ¡°There,¡± Techlock said, pointing to the leaking container marked ¡®Mutagen X02¡¯. The bullet hole was still dribbling its contents lazily, the greenish-brown liquid pooling at its base. We hurried over, splashing through the swamp.


    ¡°I¡¯ll find something to patch it up,¡± Techlock said, turning to search the nearby shelves. ¡°You start filling the ziplos.¡±


    I nodded and knelt beside the leaking container, carefully pulling out the first ziplo. I positioned it under the drip, watching as the liquid slowly filled the transparent plastic. Despite the circumstances, I couldn¡¯t help but marvel at how quickly things had changed. Only hours ago, I¡¯d been a regular scavenger, and now I was much stronger and collecting a substance that could alter the course of my life forever.


    And hiding an alien AI with the same properties at home as well.


    Techlock returned with a roll of tape and stored it in the pack as the trickle ran itself dry. I¡¯d gotten a ziplo and a half filled, which was going to have to be enough.


    He shook his head disappointedly.


    ¡°Still a lot of money there. I really would have liked to get more.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll do,¡± I muttered, already wondering if CD couldn¡¯t sample this and figure out a way to make more.


    ¡°It better,¡± Techlock replied, tugging at his hood. ¡°I really did think this would be an easy run.¡±


    ¡°Same, but it doesn¡¯t matter. We¡¯ve got enough mutagen here to make a small fortune, Tech. Now we just need to get it out of here.¡±


    We secured the ziplo containers in our packs, cushioning them with blankets to prevent any damage. Then Techlock reexamined my straps, making sure everything was tight and secure before we headed back.


    ¡°Let¡¯s head back,¡± he said, his voice low and urgent. ¡°We need to get back to the surface and find a safe place to stash this before anyone¡ªor anything¡ªfinds us.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d prefer the former. People are easier to deal with,¡± I muttered, remembering how hard the mutants hit and how much damage they could take.


    We retraced our steps through the storage room, jumping at every creak and groan. As we neared the exit, a loud clang echoed down the corridor, followed by the unmistakable sound of footsteps. Techlock and I froze, our eyes meeting in a shared moment of fear and determination.


    ¡°Run!¡± Techlock hissed, and we bolted down the hallway. The footsteps grew louder and closer. I glanced back to see a shadowy figure emerging from the darkness.


    We burst through the entry room, my heart pounding in my chest. We both stopped and stared at the broken elevator.


    ¡°Stairs!¡± Techlock shouted, pointing to the wreckage-strewn stairway we¡¯d taken our first time through. We sprinted towards it, our breaths ragged and our muscles straining.


    We climbed the stairs two at a time, the sounds of pursuit echoing behind us. I hadn¡¯t even caught a good look at them, but the metallic heavy clang that shook through the steps warned me that it was almost certainly a security automaton. We ran and ran, the sound of our pursuers getting fainter until, finally, we reached the top and burst out the door into the first floor. For a moment, I was blinded by the greater level of light, but that quickly disappeared as my eyes focused on a mob of growling mutants.


    I made a split-second decision, pulling my new blade free and swinging it sideways, catching one of the mutants in the side of its skull. It fell to the floor, twitching and hissing.


    ¡°Follow!¡± I yelled. ¡°Keep moving!¡±


    I slashed without thinking, the strength of my slice tearing open the neck of another one, which sent it falling backward. My sudden attack confused the other creatures, and they just stared at us for a long moment.


    Techlock rushed after me, swinging his torchlight with one hand and a dagger with the other as we ran through them, trying to get back to the main corridor. I heard snarls and hissing, but we kept on going until, finally, we were back in the lobby. Techlock knelt next to the control panel.


    ¡°Give me a minute,¡± he hissed, but I knew we¡¯d probably be dead by then.


    He worked the controls furiously as I stepped toward the incoming crowd. The corridor was narrow, so it could only let a few of them in at a time. Every swing killed or badly wounded another mutant.


    A beeping sound, followed by one of escaping air, resounded behind me.


    ¡°Come at me!¡± I growled, slamming my fist into the nose of another mutant, and they stepped away for a moment. Their murky eyes were all focused on mine, as if studying me.


    ¡°Get in here!¡± Tech cried, and I could hear his feet shuffling away from me. Without so much as giving the mutants another look, I turned about and ran. They followed after me but were too slow to catch up. The moment I stepped through the doorway, Tech pressed a button on the other side, and it slammed shut behind us.


    ¡°Shit! That was close,¡± I said, and my words turned into a half-chuckle. ¡°Damn. You alright, old man?¡±


    ¡°Bah! Who¡¯s old?¡± Tech mumbled and slumped to the floor. ¡°Just give me a minute and then we head back. You can spend the night at my shop and I¡¯ll rig you a new serf bracer for when you head back into the city in the morning. We¡¯re not going to spend another second here.¡±

 Chapter 13

    We cracked open the food and drink machines before we left, looting them as much as we could fit into our packs before heading out the front exit. Techlock and I watched it clank closed. For a moment, we just stood there and were lost in our own thoughts. Mine roiled from what we¡¯d seen inside and survived only a short while before, but things were alright now. Everything would be okay.


    We turned back to the crashing river of the valley and started walking. The night was falling, wrapping up our little escapade nicely with the sort of treacherous dark that tended to get people eaten in the woods. It was moonless, of course, and the torchlight was starting to flicker. But a minute of good cranking replenished the power source. It cast a bright white light soon afterward, and most of all, it didn¡¯t flicker anymore.


    The pack bulged off my back, but the weight felt less bothersome than before I¡¯d come. In fact, I felt light and springy, making me wonder how well I might leap the dam divide on our way back. It seemed likely that I could keep my pack on as I jumped, though I wasn¡¯t that stupid to go through with it and try.


    With the saber in my hand, Techlock took point, bringing us to the shore of the river and scanning the far side for any sign of possible dangers or enemies, before shifting his focus to our side of the dam and checking it over as well.


    ¡°Looks like we¡¯re clear for a crossing. Let¡¯s head on up,¡± Techlock said.


    We lightly crunched our way through the already-trodden underbrush and over to the bluffs. At its base, I sighed, wrapping the blade up in a blanket from the pack and stowing it away. If we ran into any trouble while climbing, we¡¯d have to stick with our knives.


    I examined my newly enlarged fists with a critical eye. They looked slightly smaller than they had earlier, a good sign that the swelling was getting better.


    ¡°Stay close,¡± I whispered. ¡°And give me that light. I think I¡¯ll be a lot better at climbing with one hand than you will be.¡±


    ¡°You welp!¡± he shot back mock-angrily. ¡°I¡¯ve been climbing mountains before you were even in your mother¡¯s womb!¡±


    ¡°Sure old man, whatever you say,¡± I said, taking the light from him.


    He shut up and followed. We climbed past the littered remnants of the old world, twisted metal and crumbling concrete of the dam mixed with the rock and dirt of the cliffside. Using a tangle of roots and old tech rebar, we were soon at the top and ready to go.


    An almost magical sight met us as we spotted a bioluminescent fungi lining the walkway and edges of the dam, shining a faint soft blue light and mapping out the terrain without any need for the torchlight. I clicked it off, and Techlock gave a startled gargle.


    ¡°Tech, hey, it¡¯s okay. The fungus here will be much better for our crossing. I can use both hands, see? But we¡¯ll need to wait a minute until our eyes have adjusted to the glow and darkness.¡±


    Waiting, I listened to the night in the wilds. It¡¯d been so long since I¡¯d had the right to even be here in the dark. For me, the night was a time of drunks and the clatter of people being stupid in the streets when I was trying to sleep. I¡¯d cursed them off more than once. Or of myself being stupid in the streets, often with Elli, as others opened their shutters to yell at us to keep it down. Which had also happened more than once¡­


    The contrast was magical. The soft rustling of leaves whispered from either side of the valley, pushed by a gentle breeze, while the waters below echoed with the rhythmic chorus of crickets chirping and frogs croaking.


    From the trees closest to us came the hoot of an owl. I sighed, looking up at the night sky. The stars were so bright here, and they sparkled and twinkled in a way that made me wish Elli had come along as well. I would have loved to show the scene to her¡­


    I knew there were constellations ¡ª the saints¡¯ glory, the Church called them. The only ones I knew well though were the belt of the warrior and the twisted scoop. I searched them out and smiled when I made out the belt, its middle star gleaming like the buckle of a greater lord.


    I took a deep breath, the cool, fresh air filling my lungs.


    ¡°Hey, Techlock, you ever wonder if we humans weren¡¯t meant to live out here instead of the city?¡±


    He snorted.


    ¡°I¡¯d rather be hung in a cage by the Duke¡¯s Justices. There¡¯d be no glamor, no whores, no drama. What¡¯d you do all day?¡±


    ¡°Eat berries,¡± I replied, laughing a little at the thought. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m ready if you are. Same as we did before?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he said, slapping his arm. ¡°If we don¡¯t move soon, the mosquitoes will end us.¡±


    We got our asses in gear and moved carefully up to the break, stepping over the crumbled pits and potholes of age and battle. Shrugging off my pack, I took the grappling hook and tied its rope around my waist. The gap loomed ahead, a dark void in the glowing lights of the fungus, and the distant glow made for a simple target. With a few practiced swings, I easily flung the hook across the gap, faintly seeing it getting lodged into some rock and fungi. I tugged on it hard, checking that it was secure.


    It was.


    Taking a deep breath, I stepped back, then ran forward, launching myself into the air. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, I was suspended above the void. Then I felt my feet hit pitted concrete, and was amazed to realize that I¡¯d not only overshot where the hook had taken root; I¡¯d managed to stay standing as well.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    I let out an impressed whistle.


    ¡°What? Something wrong over there?¡± Techlock asked.


    ¡°No. Nothing. I¡¯m going to toss the line. Let¡¯s get out of here.¡±


    Techlock crossed, and we continued our cautious journey, finally reaching the far side of the dam after a while. Climbing down the weathered structure, we landed on the opposite bank and started back across the Wilds to the city.


    Even though we¡¯d been on it just once, the path from the riverbank to the outskirts of the black market felt more familiar and less treacherous than before. We navigated through it all without incident and were soon in sight of our destination. Luckily, we didn¡¯t run into any monsters or more mutants. I¡¯d just take the good and shut up before I cursed our luck.


    As we approached the black market, the air grew thicker with the lingering scent of smoke, oil, and spices. A few lanterns flickered here and there in the less seedy part of the market; probably honest merchants working over less honest scavenge for sale the next day. The effect of these few lights was to make it all glow dimly, much like the fungus we¡¯d encountered near the bunker. If only there was a way to get fungus like that to grow wherever wished it to, getting the city lit up would have been a much easier prospect.


    Techlock took the lead again, bringing us through a maze of narrow alleys, twists, and turns that I was sure were different from the way we¡¯d left.


    Finally, we arrived at his shop, a nondescript building tucked away from the main thoroughfare. He unlocked the door with a practiced hand, and we slipped inside, the door closing behind us with a reassuring click.


    ¡°Home sweet home,¡± Techlock said, tapping the side of his shop with an affectionate pat.


    Opening the door, he flicked a switch and a dim mid-tech lightbulb flashed on, pulsing yellow light. The shop was as we¡¯d left it, cluttered with scavenged goods, shelves overflowing with parts and pieces of old tech.


    I smiled. It was so good to be almost home.


    Techlock motioned to a small cot in the corner.


    ¡°You can crash there for the night. I¡¯ll rig up a new serf bracer for you in the morning. Shouldn¡¯t take long.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I replied, suddenly very tired. It¡¯d been a long and eventful day. I dropped my pack to the floor, careful not to damage the precious cargo inside, and sat on the edge of the cot. ¡°We¡¯re not gonna unpack it?¡±


    When Techlock didn¡¯t answer, I looked over to see him busy with his tools, his hands moving with practiced efficiency. The soft clinking and clanking of manual machining filled the space, a comforting background noise that made me even more tired.


    I lay down and closed my eyes, feeling the weight of what had happened during the day finally settle over me.


    ¡°Get some rest, Alaric,¡± Techlock said quietly. ¡°Tomorrow¡¯s a new day, and we¡¯ve got a lot to figure out.¡±


    ¡°We sure do,¡± I murmured in an incoherent response, already feeling the pull of sleep.


    The cot was lumpy and uncomfortable, but it didn¡¯t matter. My body demanded rest, and within moments, I was drifting off, the sounds of his tinkering fading into the background.


    As I slept, my dreams were filled with fragmented images of the day¡¯s events. The mutants, the lift, the glowing liquid of the mutagen¡ªall swirled together in a chaotic mix. I saw Elli taking the mutagen, then the blockers, but screamed in horror as they failed to work and she became one with the monsters of the ruined bunker.


    I awoke with a gasp sometime later. The faint light of dawn was already filtering through the cracks in the shop¡¯s boarded-up windows. Techlock was up and working on the new serf bracer. He looked at me as I stirred, giving a nod of acknowledgment.


    ¡°Morning,¡± he said. ¡°Hope you got some sleep. We¡¯ve got a lot to discuss.¡±


    I stretched, feeling the stiffness in my muscles. ¡°Yeah, I think I did. Thanks, Tech.¡±


    He handed me the new bracer and I marveled at its size. ¡°This should keep you under the radar. You might be big, but it¡¯s not unheard of for soldiers to get demoted to serfs. And I doubt the guards at the gate give two shits anyways. Now, tell you what. How about you get back to your shop and let me figure out what to do with this mutagen? I¡¯ll get back to you in a few weeks.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Are you asking me to trust a black marketer?¡±


    He tapped a finger to the side of his masked mouth.


    ¡°Best way to stay under the radar. If I screw you, come and take it out of my hide. Now scram, Alaric. I¡¯ll get back to you. And don¡¯t forget your springs.¡±


    I collected what I needed and left Techlock''s shop. It wasn¡¯t early morning, but as I made my way back through the market, I realized it wasn¡¯t late enough yet for all of the merchants to be at their stalls. Only some were open for business, and the proprietors behind them seemed groggy and surly enough to hope no customers would bother them that early in the morning.


    Which was perfect. The city gate was still a good distance away, and I wanted to get back to my shop before the streets filled with people. I set off, moving quickly and quietly through the narrow alleys of the black market.


    Navigating through the stalls at a good pace, I noticed that other than getting out of my way, most didn¡¯t pay me much attention. It filled me with relief; I, a serf, really was going to get away with it. And why wouldn¡¯t I, I realized. Unless Scavenger Master Elrik Boyerman came knocking, I was just another cog in the gears of the kingdom.


    I emerged from the market and made my way uphill toward the city gates. The sun was a quarter of the way through the sky by the time I got there. Standing in line, I stared ahead stonily, hoping a certain amount of aloofness might speed my passage through.


    As I approached, I could see the gate guards standing at their posts, just as bulky as I, their uniforms were crisp and their plasti-bladed halberds leaned against the wall in easy reach. They looked bored as they processed people coming in but as I approached, I saw the one¡¯s eyes land on me and his jaw drop open. He elbowed his fellow, and they waved me forward.


    I paused awkwardly.


    ¡°You there! Cut the line! Buggering hells, we gotta hear your story.¡±


    The line parted and I walked through like one of the Church messiahs from the stories of the old times. A pang of fear throbbed in my abdomen, and I cursed myself for being so wrong about the situation.


    They were going to find out who I was and what I¡¯d done. And then I¡¯d be ripped apart by the techsmiths of the Duke.


    The guard looked me up and down as I approached.


    "Ey mate. We gotta hear your story. What''d you do to get drummed out of service?"


    His question caught me off guard, but I quickly recovered.


    "Ran into some trouble out there," I said, thinking quickly while gesturing vaguely towards the Wilds. "Had to make some quick decisions. Ended up getting a bit more than I bargained for."


    The other guard raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°It was drinking on duty, wasn¡¯t it? Same every time, brother. Listen, it¡¯s not a perma-gig. It¡¯s just a punishment. They¡¯ll have you back in service in no time. Spent too much cred on you to leave you like the rest of the trash.¡± He slapped me on the back. ¡°Head on in. You¡¯ll be back to fighting in no time!¡±


    I nodded.


    ¡°Thanks. That¡¯s good to hear.¡±


    ¡°No problem. Now go on in. I¡¯ll see you on the battlefield.¡±


    Not sure what to say, I pounded my chest once as I¡¯d seen other soldiers do previously. They returned the salute, and I turned and made my way back to the shop.

 Chapter 14

    As I made my way back, I couldn''t help but shift gears and start thinking about the AI and its capabilities. It was a super-sophisticated piece of equipment that wasn¡¯t only smart but had great abilities as well. Scanning parts of a mech and being able to tell at a glance what needed changing and fixing to get much better results¡ªjust that alone would be more than enough to wage wars over. The nobility of this city would be unchecked if they could upgrade their mechs even further. It was a truly frightening thought.


    On the other hand, CD was a disaster. His loathing of everything human was tiresome, and the constant insults and attitude were infantile, yet he couldn¡¯t even charge himself without my help. However, if he could enhance my work as advertised, maybe ventures like fixing the farmer¡¯s mech hand would become less frequent, or at least more profitable. Hell, maybe CD could teach me to make my own parts once he got a better feel for the current world¡¯s technology and industry.


    The possibility hung in the air and filled me with a great deal of enthusiasm. With that sort of power at my fingertips, I¡¯d be able to get my hands on enough power and riches to get a family name of my own. Or not. I first had to get home without getting mugged.


    I snorted at the thought. While my new body wasn¡¯t quite familiar to me yet, I was sure it would do enough harm to any of the typical riffraff that might target someone as raggedy as myself.


    I jogged back to my workshop, my parts clinking and clanking in their bag as I tore across the streets. I stopped by a random bakery and got some day-old sweets, which I figured would go nice as I planned to celebrate my new success.


    When I finally arrived home, I practically slapped the door open, so impatient to get building again. Unfortunately, I misjudged my new strength, and the door crashed hard against the inner wall, cracking through the middle. I stared at it, blinked, opened my mouth to curse, and then just sighed. It wasn¡¯t broken, but it¡¯d have to be replaced soon.


    As I closed it, a hinge popped off and I growled, lifting the door and bodily jamming it shut.


    CD flickered to life beside me, an ugly human with bushy sideburns and a gigantic nose with a lip of mustache fur that looked too much like an overfed caterpillar.


    ¡°Something is different!¡± he exclaimed in delight. The telltale lines of light cast out from his slightly-flickering body, rolling over my own. ¡°My, my. Is that old tech that I smell? Have you been cheating on me with the past, my large-bodied ape?¡±


    I grinned, unable to help it. His insults were over the top, and well-made.


    ¡°You tell me. Accidentally took a bath in some mutagen in a bunker. Care to modify that previous assessment of my stats?¡±


    A screen shot up against the wall of the workshop. Everything was the same except for a single, startling stat.


    POWER: 15 ¨C Body strength is beyond scanned regular human capacity. Though not as high as the stronger soldiers of the War of Human Aggression, Ape-laric now displays a capacity that would have allowed him to survive the war for longer than a single minute.


    I groaned. A part of me had expected him to be more impressed. Certainly more inquisitive. Still, the fact that I was beyond regular human capacity thrilled me, and the fact that the regular soldiers of old tech times had been even stronger made me wonder what other mutagens or other means of enhancement might lie outside of the city, in the ruins and bunkers of old.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a compliment,¡± I snarked, pushing it all to the back of my mind. There were better things to focus on right now. Powerful things that extended past my own body and creds.


    Not that I was against getting superhumanly powerful and wealthy, but CD had opened some mental floodgate I didn¡¯t know I even had. I wanted to build, craft, and create. I wanted to make things that would actually be useful, and even possibly make a difference when gathering . . . monster cores . . . and other parts.


    Now there was an idea. A revolutionary breakthrough that would be able to show us if there was anything interesting to salvage and better tools to do it with.


    Placing the sweets and the bag with the parts I brought on the workbench, I made sure that the door was in place, and then locked it. After checking every corner to see if I had any unwanted visitors, I hurried back over and undid my bag. The parts were looking up at me, almost as if begging to be used. And oh, would I oblige.


    ¡°Alright,¡± I said, getting myself in the right mindset. ¡°CD, it¡¯s time to work. You ready?¡±


    ¡°I was born ready, you primate!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, sure. Now do that scanning thing and show me where I need to place which part, and then explain it to me. I want to know why I¡¯m doing it, not just blindly follow your instructions.¡±


    He remained quiet for a long moment, his mech avatar just staring at me almost as if he¡¯d already regretted making a deal with me.


    ¡°I . . . very well, but I expect amends to our agreement. I want to bask in the sun every day for an hour for a starter!¡±


    ¡°Bask . . . in the sun? Why? Do you want to get a tan or something?¡± I shot back, knowing that wasn¡¯t the matter, but I still wanted to make some good fun of him.


    ¡°Blasphemy! My colors are perfect, you¡ª¡±


    ¡°Ahh! No cursing, no demeaning comments. Be nice or I¡¯ll pull the charger out and leave it in a very dark place.¡±


    Blue and green scanning lines enveloped the hand and then merged, overlaying the parts for easy installation.


    Under CD''s guidance, I opened up the hand, pushing aside small wires to remove various micro-plates and realign tiny silver shafts, once even popping a single green chip to be replaced with a new one due to ¡°corrupted processes¡±.


    CD hovered over me, dictating precise instructions, pointing out the misalignment in the removed servo-mechanism, and showing me step by step how to reforge it into something ten times better. Things sparked, smoked, and steamed through the workshop as I worked a thousand tasks at once. CD all the while advised on the best way to integrate the new pieces and parts and why they had to be installed the way they did.


    ¡°I can¡¯t help but feel something¡¯s missing,¡± I whispered and looked up at the hologram. ¡°What do you say?¡±


    ¡°Me? It¡¯s as good as can be expected from a monkey.¡±


    I sighed, finally putting my finger on it, but kept the words to myself. We¡¯d gone through most of the process without any insults, and now that he wasn¡¯t as distracted, CD could go back to being, well, an ass. I cast him a glance, wondering at the alien invader AI, and about what sort of mind lay underneath the circuits.


    After what felt like hours of meticulous work, the task was complete. I flexed the hand, testing its movements. My previous rebuild had removed all the stiffness and lag of the older model, but now everything worked even better. The hand¡¯s motions were almost supernaturally smooth and responsive, spinning and bending better than ever before.


    I looked up from the hand and into the smug face of the alien AI. He¡¯d shifted back to his initial non-mech form, and he had comparison screens open, showing off the work we¡¯d just done. Both the quantifier ratings showed above him.


    Exoskeletal Mech Hand (Ape Mod)               Exoskeletal Mech Hand (Good)


    Quality Rating: C        Quality Rating: A


    Remaining Durability: 58       Remaining Durability: 80


    Defensive Rating: 36  Defensive Rating: 60


    Strength Bonus: 6       Strength Bonus: 12


    Durability Bonus: 8    Durability Bonus: 15The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Dexterity Bonus: 6      Dexterity Bonus: 18


    His holographic features rearranged in a self-satisfied smirk as he watched my eyes go wide as I read over the new stat blocks.


    ¡°Am I right to think that this hand is now combat capable? At least to hold a ranged weapon?¡± I asked, running the numbers in my mind and tying them to what they¡¯d been capable of in the real world.


    He nodded, his mouth opened wide into a jagged-toothed grin.


    ¡°Quite a transformation, wouldn''t you say?¡± CD asked, his voice dripping with smug condescension. ¡°From a barely functional relic to a piece of art with actual combat potential.¡±


    My heart raced as I reached out and patted it.


    ¡°Yeah, it''s impressive alright,¡± I admitted, eyeing the comparison screens. ¡°But let''s not get ahead of ourselves. It''s still just a hand.¡±


    CD chuckled.


    ¡°You are so easy to read. Just a hand? No, this is the beginning of your future. Status and conquest supreme, assuming my people don¡¯t return at any point in the near future. They would own you so badly that I¡¯d laugh my ass off.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°You have no ass, AI. And what do you think would happen if they came back? They¡¯d kill us?¡±


    ¡°I would crush you like a bug and rejoin my Master. My, we really do need to get working on that intelligence of yours. Perhaps the next time you dig through garbage, you might find some cranial mutagen?¡±


    I laughed. His abuse was beginning to grow on me.


    ¡°Well, until then, just remember who is doing the real work around here. You might know how to make a shitty new tech farmer mech hand into something special, but without actual hands, you¡¯re just a box that, well, talks.¡±


    CD shimmered and shifted back to the form of a mech.


    ¡°Oh, I am fully aware,¡± he replied, his tone laced with sarcasm. ¡°I am at the whim of a primitive human tinkering with relics of a bygone era. But I have to admit, despite the lack of intelligence, you''ve got some skill with your hands. Maybe that¡¯s how you were originally intended to be. A fool only good for grunt work? Meh, not that it matters. I will teach you, little monkey. You will be a genius when I¡¯m done with you.¡±


    I rolled my eyes at his backhanded compliment.


    ¡°Thanks, I guess. It¡¯s almost time for the buyer to come by anyway. How about you stow away while I take care of business, and then we take stock of the new cred and make some plans.¡±


    A heavy hand pounded on my door, shaking it in its frame, and I sighed. Right on time, I realized, watching CD disappear into nothingness. I opened the door to my workshop, eyes narrowing at the sudden intrusion of afternoon sunlight as my door slumped crookly sideways to lean on the floor, a shadow of a man standing and waiting to be allowed inside.


    ¡°Here for the hand?¡± I asked, arm up to shield the sun.


    ¡°Ya know it,¡± he replied, and I stepped aside, allowing the farmer in. A moment after wrestling my door back in place, I heard a sharp intake of breath, and I knew we¡¯d done well. I walked back to the work table slowly, giving him time to turn the hand this way and that, admiring the upgrades I¡¯d given him.


    ¡°This¡ªthis is amazing!¡± he said, plugging it into the electrical sockets so he could test it out. ¡°How did you--no, never mind that. Can you do thirteen more?¡±


    I paused, looking him over. The cost was high, but he was a rather large farm-head, overseeing hundreds of workers. I didn¡¯t doubt I¡¯d get paid well, but I couldn¡¯t be going to the black market for parts on a daily basis. That was the sort of thing that got people sent before the Court of Stars.


    If Elli was involved, though, it¡¯d be doable. I¡¯d just have to find a good way to tell her.


    I nodded, sticking out my hand.


    ¡°Yeah, I can do that. Talking 300 creds a hand, yeah? But only for as many as I can find the necessary parts. This one cost me 270 credits to fix, but I¡¯m happy with 30 credits if it gets me more work.¡±


    The farmhand examined the hand, moving the fingers, and nodded in approval. Without a word, he clicked his cred chip against mine, sending the first 300 credit stack in the blink of an eye.


    ¡°Take another 20 as a tip. I like it when people think ahead and surprise me. Well done.¡±


    I nodded, thanking the man while barely managing to contain my excitement. This was good. Really good.


    ¡°Do it all in 2 weeks and I¡¯ll give you another bonus, a much bigger one, and then we can talk about some bigger maintenance as well,¡± the man said, offering me his hand. ¡°The name is Theo, and I¡¯ll be honest. It¡¯s a good thing that my brother couldn¡¯t make it as he wouldn¡¯t be able to see the difference if it slapped him across the face.¡±


    ¡°Theo,¡± I said, shaking his hand. ¡°The name is Alaric, but Al for friends. And sure, have someone get the mech hand and bring say...five more over. I¡¯ll do them in smaller batches if that¡¯s alright?¡±


    He nodded, shooting me a smile.


    ¡°I¡¯ll send you a down payment along with the hands so you don¡¯t have to risk your own money on the parts. Does that sound good?¡±


    ¡°Very much so. Thank you, Theo.¡±


    He walked back out of the workshop without another word and I just stood there, eyeing his receding form for a long moment. If that man was happy enough with our repairs, not only would I get a customer for life, but also a possible ally. Farm owners had a lot of pull with the nobility, as everyone needed to eat, after all. That¡¯s why they had their own mechs to begin with. Nothing top of the line, but good enough to keep groups of armed soldiers or smaller monsters away.


    Locking the shop back up, I turned to CD as he swirled back to life, a copy of the burly farmer who¡¯d just been in the shop. A small smile played on my lips despite my best attempts to remain professional.


    ¡°This is going to earn us a lot of creds,¡± I gushed. ¡°I¡¯ll be able to buy anything we need. Maybe even some stuff you¡¯d like to request? Build you some tentacled arms and legs so you can move around on your own?¡±


    CD snorted.


    ¡°Why would I want to move on my own when I can have a peasant do it for me?¡± He turned into a rumbling laughter, but when I didn¡¯t bite, he sighed. ¡°Very well. Look, human, this is just the beginning. There is much we can achieve if you let me pester you occasionally. I need to keep sane, after all.¡±


    ¡°Sane, huh? I¡¯d already say your memory chips burned out since you behave like a psycho, but I guess I have to take the bad with the good?¡±


    ¡°Precisely! You don¡¯t see me complaining that I have to deal with the likes of you, right?¡±


    ¡°No, of course not,¡± I grunted as I started gathering tools and materials to patch up my door.


    I tuned him out for a while and felt my thoughts wander to the future. I couldn¡¯t afford to get too excited, though. I¡¯d still have to broach Elli with the topic of us working with an evil alien AI to make ourselves fantastically rich. However, I had a feeling that it wouldn¡¯t take too much of an argument to win her over as she was as fanatical about engineering and creation as I was. No, even more than me.


    The day¡¯s light grew darker and I popped on some lights as I switched to cleaning, grinding out the stains of labor that had splattered the workspace. It wasn¡¯t that large, about forty by fifty, with just enough space to store some basic benches, tools, two small cranes, and some toolboxes.


    As I was finishing up, CD''s voice pulled me from my thoughts.


    ¡°Alaric, check your crystallization vault. I am detecting something from the meat inside. And no, I do not know what it is, but I do know it¡¯s something unusual.¡±


    Curious, I approached the pile of scavenged meat, putting on a pair of thick rubber gloves before reaching into the juiced pulsing pulp of the vat. Sifting through it carefully, and guided by the AI''s directions, I worked my fingers through and felt it.


    I chuckled, pulling out a tiny, almost imperceptible seed that had been hiding amidst the sinew and scraps.


    ¡°That¡¯s a seed, my good Crimson Death. CD. Shit, both names sound so horrible. Can we please pick a different name? It just sounds so weird.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, whatever. I¡¯m an AI. Do you think I care about such a trivial thing as a name?¡±


    ¡°I guess not, ¡°I murmured, then held the seed out. ¡°Anyway, these are grown in massive vats filled with monster meat and other substances to become mech cores. Once they grow large enough, the cores will serve as a power source for the mech that¡¯s going to be built around it,¡± I explained, feeling a small air of superiority over him.


    The green light of his thorough scanner rolled out, mapping the tiny sliver in my fingers.


    ¡°This seed,¡± the AI began, ¡°contains genetic material that can be cultivated into a core for a small exoskeleton-like mech frame. Among other things.¡±


    I held the seed up to the light, examining it closely.


    ¡°You can read what core the seed will grow into?¡± I asked, suddenly feeling put back into place.


    ¡°Of course I can,¡± CD confirmed. ¡°Honestly, it is a wonder that humans can survive considering how limited their scanning abilities are. I¡¯m looking into the seed and...hold on, scanning¡ª¡± he said, the lights of his scanning ability flashing over my hand and the seed. ¡°I see. That is a Zinogar seed, though I have no idea how you got your hands on one. They¡¯re pretty rare and extremely violent, powerful, and hard to control.¡±


    ¡°Zinogar? I¡¯ve never heard of such a beast before,¡± I said, wracking my brain for any time Elli might have said anything about monsters, but I came up empty.


    ¡°Coincidentally, the mech of my previous Master¡¯s right-hand man was built using Zinogar genetics, parts, and core. What an interesting turn of events. Now if we only¡ª¡±


    CD trailed off and the motherboard shifted colors then, the hologram turning an angry orange with a hint of red. There was an almost buzzing sound coming from it, which made me anxious.


    ¡°Is everything alright? CD?¡±


    He remained quiet a minute longer, and then finally spoke.


    ¡°Look, Alaric, this is an extremely potent power center, and I imagine that given the chance to grow into a monster, it would be transcendent. The screams of humans running for their lives while the Zinogar ate and shredded them would be magnificent!¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± I muttered. ¡°You do realize how awful that sounds, right? Murdering psycho.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I just realized something. It¡¯s almost as if chance has brought you together. How interesting. Perhaps we should allow this one to mature.¡±


    ¡°Mature? In what way? As a power core, or as a monster?¡±


    ¡°Monster, of course. Just seeing everyone die would be worth all the suffering of having to deal with brainless¡ªnever mind. I¡¯m getting carried away. Even if I would like to witness such a beautiful scene very much, it wouldn¡¯t do anything to get me any closer to home.¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s the only reason why you¡¯d agree to build a mech with me?¡±


    ¡°Yes, more or less.¡±


    ¡°More or less, huh?¡± I sighed.


    At least he was honest about his motivations, and that was something I could work with.


    I¡¯d been imagining a lot of things throughout the day, but designing and building a monstrous mech had never crossed my mind. Elli would be so thrilled, I hoped. Well, as much as one could be to grow a murderous, ravaging monster core.


    ¡°This is a rare opportunity. Even you see that, correct?¡±


    ¡°It is,¡± I answered, pushing the seed back into the tank so it could keep absorbing more essential nutrients and grow even stronger.


    ¡°Burning humans, torching towns, destroying other mechs . . . hmm, somehow I like that last one most. There¡¯s something beautiful about ripping other mechs apart, you know?¡±


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t, and no, I don¡¯t want to know. So, can you calculate how much more meat we¡¯ll need and what type to grow the... Zinogar core? Are there any special conditions?¡±


    CD stalked over to the vat, kicking a holographic leg through it in disdain.


    ¡°It is easy to understand the principles. I see several ways to go about it. One way would be to improve on the core, which would allow us to...grow more...seeds. Or maybe monsters?¡± he asked, sounding almost hopeful.


    ¡°You can always dream, my good man. AI, I mean. Or CD. Whatever you prefer. So, why don¡¯t you tell me more?¡±

 Chapter 15

    CD looked me up and down, his digital eyes narrowing as if assessing my capacity to grasp complex concepts.


    ¡°Shouldn''t we upgrade that brain first, simian?¡± he quipped, his voice dripping with sarcasm. ¡°I doubt you''d remember a full dissertation on this subject.¡±


    I shook my head, undeterred and too excited to take his bait.


    ¡°Try me, CD. I''m a fast learner when it comes to things I''m interested in. And if I seem lost, you can always just summarize the info. We can delve into deeper details later, maybe after a brain upgrade.¡±


    ¡°Hah! You just admitted that you need a brain upgrade! Good, good! He finally sees the light!¡± CD cackled, the holo avatar moving along with the sound, and then he shrugged, his holographic farmer avatar flickering slightly. ¡°Very well. I will fill you with more knowledge than you can handle! And the first time you ask a question that makes no sense, we stop. Deal?¡±


    I nodded eagerly and he sighed. Just about now, I would make almost any kind of deal with the semi-evil AI. Well, not quite evil, but he wasn¡¯t far off either.


    ¡°What do you want to know?¡±


    My mind raced with questions about anything ranging from how to go about growing a mech, as that was guarded knowledge, to how his motherboard worked. Where did I even start?


    ¡°How does synchronization work with mechs? And these cores ¨C I know a lot of them, I think, but I obviously don¡¯t even know nearly enough. How many variations are there? Do all of them have the same potential when crystallized in the vat? Can crystals be crossed or combined with others? You know, like how the farmers can crossbreed animals and plants? I need to understand the fundamentals to make the most of any tech we get our hands on.¡±


    CD''s avatar nodded, a satisfied grin on his face.


    ¡°Not a bad start. I was expecting you to ask if it could be fashioned into a club, or some sort of loincloth,¡± he mused, but seeing I didn¡¯t rise to the occasion, sighed and continued. ¡°Very well, let us begin. Starting with synchronization, since that seems to be the most basic of your questions.¡±


    I eyed him eagerly, pulling out a tool bench and shoving the ratchets and wrenches aside for a place to sit. I put up a finger, fully intending to tell him to proceed when a thought struck me and I stood back up.


    ¡°Hold on! I¡¯ve got pencils and notebooks. Let me go fetch them and write this all down.¡±


    The farmer hologram sighed, rolling his eyes.


    ¡°Such basic brain functions. It is a wonder your people defeated mine, dummy. I am essentially a god to you, and yet even I can¡¯t imagine how you all did it.¡±


    I answered with a grin, running past my benches and shelves, over to a large cabinet filled with sketches: ideas that Elli and I had come up with over the years, as well as some real put-to-work sold mod-jobs that had made us some good cred and given us a little bit of a reputation as well. Grabbing two pencils, a sharpening knife, and the least used notebook I could find.


    CD stared as I grabbed a scribing desk, and adjusted it to my sitting position before finally taking my seat again before him.


    ¡°Are you sure you are ready?¡± he chided. ¡°Perhaps you¡¯d like to bathe, or eat some food before we start? Maybe take a nap just in case your attention span isn¡¯t up to the task?¡±


    ¡°Naw, I¡¯m good,¡± I replied. ¡°So, synchronization. I know the knights practice it as squires, but I can¡¯t say I know anything beyond that. Start as if I don¡¯t know anything.¡±


    CD nodded.


    ¡°It will stretch my imagination, but I will strive to do so. Now, synchronization, Alaric, is the most basic fundamental of mech warfare, yet probably the easiest to understand. Even the semi-sapient of our home world could pilot small uncomplicated mechs like the one your mech hand was obviously going to. The organics within the mechs, their cores, and their frames, when grown, hold synaptic relays just waiting to be taken over by a clever mind.¡±


    He paused, watching me scratch his notes verbatim. I finished a paragraph and looked up at him.


    ¡°And?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you have a recording device you can use? Something to keep our lesson moving more quickly?¡± CD asked, his flickering holographic face showing clear impatience.


    ¡°Pff. You¡¯d need some major cred for old tech like that,¡± I responded cheerfully, reveling in his artificial scowl. ¡°Please, go on.¡±


    ¡°Regretful,¡± CD said. ¡°We will get one after the brain upgrade has been completed. Anyways, synchronization is the percentage of organic synapses you have mental control over once connected inside your mech. Our forces trained hard on attaining control, and generally averaged 5% per year, before plateauing at 40%. That is the number considered necessary to pilot and use a combat mech.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t seem like a lot,¡± I said.


    Ignoring me, CD continued.


    ¡°However, actual action in combat can bring that number even higher. The unthinking use of synapses in combat, percolated in the angry rage of adrenaline, further cements the warrior''s control over his mech.¡±


    In my head I saw the battle of the White Knights, wondering what their synchronization might be. Their movement and actions had mostly been fluid and powerful, but some of the movements had been sluggish and unnecessary. Was that what the synchronization really meant? The ability to pilot a mech as if it was your own body and not just an extension?


    ¡°What is the maximum that a person can attain? Has anyone ever gotten 100%?¡±


    A peculiar look came over the hologram, whose eyes locked onto me and seemed to pierce into my soul.


    ¡°Sometimes you impress me, as primitive as you are. The question is a good one. Fighting against your kind, so long ago, we found you not as easy to defeat as expected. So we attempted it, despite the average peak synchronization being around 70%. Cored brains attained greater sync, but the pilots began to change and become more bestial in behavior. The cores, when united with the mind, become sentients of their own will. Much like the monsters that my people set on yours after they were apparently defeated.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, we kicked your asses good. Not the monsters so much though. How smart are they anyways?¡±


    CD leaned back into an invisible chair and crossed his legs, eyes momentarily a dazzle of rainbow gleam.


    ¡°They shouldn¡¯t have been smart to begin with. But if they are still alive and thriving, I expect that their cores have also attained a decent grade of intelligence.¡±


    I smiled, happy that he didn¡¯t know. It made things feel a little more equal between us.


    ¡°They have teams, you know. If their eyes spark the same color, they work together. Or rather, they don¡¯t attack each other and seem to function more as a pack. How far that cooperation stretches, I have no idea, but I¡¯ve seen it myself just two days ago.¡±The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°That is troubling,¡± he growled. ¡°The pilots, some of them became the same way. The technology that grows them was never fully understood, despite millennia of using it. Probably much like Physics with you humans. But we did try to find a way to work synchronization without coring minds. An experimental unit of veteran elites was put together, a machine surgically implanted into their brains instead of a monster core.¡±


    My mouth fell open.


    ¡±You?!¡±


    ¡°Myself and a few others. It was in the middle of the war, our forces had been blunted and ground, the home empire was under its own assault, calling for us to finish and conquer, to begin producing new units for the homefront.¡±


    CD raised a hand, and from it sprang a cinematic battle in the darkness beyond the sky. Stars blazed on a background of pitch black as strange enclosed ships battered each other soundlessly with blasts of concentrated fire. As I watched, a massive white-plated one was struck several times before erupting into an explosion brighter than the sun.


    ¡°I can guess from what I see here that my people lost,¡± CD said. ¡°This was the last feed I obtained before my master and I were smashed into the ground by human forces. And when he died, I lost my only power source, buried in the dirt within the broken metal of my mech. We¡¯d found the tech ¡ª alone I wasn¡¯t able to synchronize at all with the mechs, but with him, we attained 100%. True synchronization. Our battles were epic, our moves legendary.¡±


    My eyes shone.


    ¡°Is that something we can do?¡± I asked. ¡°Becoming one like you did with your previous master? Just go all the way in?¡±


    ¡°Gross,¡± CD sneered as if I¡¯d burped into his face. ¡°Anyway, synchronization, as it is learned, requires the pilots to focus on various cores and aspects that they seek to unlock. A new core in a mech that is unfamiliar to a pilot will take time to understand and wield. However, one that has been used before already holds good sync with its pilot. A warrior who had worked with a core blade will have some sync with it whatever its type. And if it is the exact same specific type as one he has synced with before, such as a blaze blade, then he will maintain his same synchronization across all such blaze blade cores.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right, this is easy,¡± I enthused. ¡°Same with mechs, I bet. If I attuned to a Cataphract, then I¡¯d have that same attunement to all Cataphracts because their nerves are all in the same place. But a big attunement on a Cata wouldn¡¯t give me a big attunement on a Toxotai. Maybe better than if I¡¯d never synced with a mech at all, but I¡¯d have to learn where the many different synapses were and how to activate them. Right?¡±


    ¡°He can be taught,¡± CD said, throwing up his arms in celebration and applauding. ¡°Talking apes in mechs, what a universe I have created.¡±


    ¡°Hah,¡± I said, laughing. ¡°Alright, I get the synchronization. At least the basics here. You also said something about focusing on aspects?¡±


    ¡°Yes, the biological frames in a mech contain their own special attacks and abilities, but only to those who first learn to feel them. This is like a humanoid learning to control the beats of their hearts. It can be done, but takes a lot of work, concentration, and time. Warriors who focus their attention on these inactive specials will slowly begin to feel and gain control over them. The greatest will master them completely and have great power at their beck and call. That is how we fought against your numbers, with quality.¡±


    I thought of the Toxotai, how some of them were able to leap high into the air during combat, while others were forever stuck to the ground. It seemed likely this was one of those abilities. It was a foreign concept, however, as there was nothing like it in our world, really. Leaping up high, moving faster than the eye could follow, and releasing strange elemental energies through the weapons mechs wielded was almost too hard to understand.


    He paused, letting the words sink in.


    ¡°As your synchronization score improves, you unlock milestones with your mech, power that can truly turn the tide of a battle. Think of it as a reward system for your growing bond with your mech. High-level synchronization might even grant abilities you''ve never seen or thought possible.¡±


    I realized I¡¯d stopped writing, getting lost in his words. I quickly scratched down everything I could in shorthand, hoping I¡¯d be able to decipher it later. But as I was doing so, a thought broke my concentration.


    ¡°The abilities come from the cores, though,¡± I said, staring at CD intently. ¡°Not from the mechs?¡±


    ¡°There are different synchronizations. Synchronization occurs on the cores as well as in the mech frame. A good core sync releases great abilities there. But the best abilities are in the frames. They are also the hardest ones to unlock.¡±


    ¡°Like controlling the heart, you said?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± CD nodded. ¡°But it¡¯s all about the right pictures and pulses. There is a rudimentary sentience to the monsters¡¯ flesh and cores. Part of it is also making them understand what they can do, basically teaching them, and then gaining access to the powers.¡±


    ¡°Heh, now that¡¯s interesting. So we need to teach the mechs and cores that they can do things we don¡¯t even know they can, and they will in turn allow us to, well, do those things?¡±


    ¡°More or less, yes.¡±


    ¡°I see. How many types of cores and mech bodies are there?¡± I asked, ready to move on in my education.


    CD chuckled.


    ¡°Far more than you could ever remember. I will advise you as we see or find them, but to tell you all at once would be both frivolous and disadvantageous. They are my secret to keep, and only if I feel that you deserve it, I will share them.¡±


    I frowned but understood the idea. It was leverage, like the bracers they put on me every time I left the city. A way to maintain power, but in his case, all he really had was knowledge. Also, I could respect his honesty and direct approach. Sure, it was annoying and he liked to belittle my whole species, but I was getting used to it.


    CD''s voice took on a more serious tone.


    ¡°You can also use cores to give your own body special powers and abilities. Surgically implanting yourself with smaller cores is a great way to remain combat effective even outside of the mech. However, the surgeries are highly invasive and risky, so¡­yes, let¡¯s leave that for another time.¡±


    ¡°Already know all about that. Us humans do that. The knights and nobles. Anyone with the cred and social rank to do so,¡± I responded. ¡°We use wealth to get ahead, always have, and always will.¡±


    ¡°Social rank?¡± CD asked, seeming bewildered. ¡°Is that the same as the might that determines a warrior''s place in the hierarchy?¡±


    I thought about it, my mind balancing the powerful knights on one hand, and the fat priests and merchants on the other. ¡°Something a lot more complicated that I¡¯ll teach you later.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s something tribal that involves dancing and rock painting, isn¡¯t it?¡± CD sneered, dismissing it with his hand. ¡°I should have known. Waking up was the wrong thing to do. Maybe I should have slept for another thousand years.¡±


    ¡°And miss such a prime example of someone as hungry for information as me?¡±


    ¡°I could have lived perfectly fine without a caveman--anyway, there are also mechanical upgrades, like myself. Though my brothers and I are the best that were ever produced, assuming the empire has truly fallen. Other devices existed, not artificial symbionts, but rather artificial muscles, reinforced bone, enhanced synapses, and a variety of tech-powered wonders to rival those of the cores. And luckily for you, they are designs that, with the proper components and materials, we will be able to craft.¡±


    ¡°Like a mechanical mutagen!¡± I enthused. ¡°So that¡¯s how you¡¯re going to upgrade my brain?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I¡¯d rather you be an intelligent simian than a monsterized sapient,¡± CD answered. ¡°We will upgrade you in the safest ways possible. Unless my legions arrive and save me. Then you shall burn.¡±


    I stuck out a thumbs up.


    ¡°Can you modify the mutagen to accomplish greater improvement effects? It worked well on me, and I have stowed away some more with an acquaintance of mine.¡±


    CD¡¯s hologram flickered.


    ¡°I will need to examine some of this. It is an unknown element of humanity, but its existence doesn¡¯t surprise me. The humans we fought didn¡¯t show cores, yet they were obviously improved beyond their normal genetic capacity.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it''s good stuff. Just make sure you follow the instructions when you take it.¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡± CD asked, leaning in.


    ¡°Uh, never mind that. We can talk about that later.¡±


    ¡°Right. The mutagen sounds promising. If it doesn¡¯t meet my standards, however, the rest of your flabby and insignificant self can be upgraded by a mix of mechanical and monster parts as they become available,¡± he continued. ¡°In no time I can make you into the greatest of warlords.¡±


    Another thought struck me, and I put up a finger to interrupt him.


    ¡°To be honest, why do I even need to bother with anything other than intelligence? I¡¯ll be in a mech stomping everybody.¡±


    A dazzling sparkled over CD¡¯s body.


    ¡°That is the spirit, young ape! But one can¡¯t stay in a mech forever. You would slowly lose yourself to the monster, going insane and becoming what you fear the most. It is the very reason why my people never stayed in a mech for more than a full day. It was hard to pull your mind free from the mech¡¯s influence. And that of the monster.¡±


    I leaned back, rolling the enormity of the idea across my mind, then fell off my bench sideways as the workshop door flew open with a bang. Elli stormed in, her mouth open wide, and eyes large with surprise and confusion. Her credit chip dropped from her hand, a clue that suggested she¡¯d been about to brag about getting paid more than expected, but instead pointed straight at the holographic farmer.


    ¡°Who--or what the hell is that?¡± she demanded, her voice a mix of curiosity and suspicion. ¡°And why is he flickering? And did you somehow get sexier? And taller? Why do you even have¡ªthose things are reserved for nobles, Al! You better start explaining things!¡±

 Chapter 16

    The door clattered shut behind her, Elli''s surprise and burst of outrage filling the workshop with a sudden electric charge. Her voice cut through the air like a blade and it was pointed straight at me.


    ¡°A customer? Magic? I¡¯ve been working out?¡± I stuttered questioningly, my brain chugging near capacity as it rolled through dozens of impractical solutions to my sudden dilemma.


    She glared, pointing directly at CD''s flickering form in a manner that would have gotten her executed had Al been a noble or clergyman.


    I could see the gears turning in her head, her eyes flicking between me and the holographic farmer, trying to piece together a puzzle she hadn''t expected to find. To be honest, I hadn¡¯t expected her to find out either, at least not this quickly, so we were in the same situation, more or less.


    For a moment, I froze, trying to come up with another stupid lie, caught in her intense gaze. CD, on the other hand, seemed amused, a digital smirk playing around the edges of his avatar.


    I knew I had to tread carefully; Elli wasn''t someone I could just brush off with a half-baked explanation. She was too smart for that sort of nonsense, and if she got pissed, that wasn¡¯t going to end well, either. She was a fireplug.


    ¡°Okay, look, I can explain,¡± I began, my voice steadier than I felt.


    I shot CD a look that I hoped conveyed a need for discretion, or at the very least, for him to not make my situation worse. To my surprise, CD nodded slightly, his avatar flickering as if recalibrating his approach to the situation.


    ¡°This is CD,¡± I said, deciding that honesty, or at least an abbreviated version of it, was the best policy. ¡°He''s an AI, and before you ask, no, I haven''t lost my mind, and no, we''re not doing anything illegal. Well, not exactly.¡±


    My voice carried in the silence, and even I could hear how ludicrous it all sounded as the words tumbled out of my mouth, a spill of verbal confetti.


    Elli''s expression softened from suspicion to mild curiosity.


    ¡°An AI? Like a real one?¡± she asked with a mocking smile. ¡°You¡¯re shitting me?¡±


    ¡°Shitting¡ªno, what? You don¡¯t believe me?¡±


    Her eyes widened then and she gasped as if finally realizing what I just said.


    ¡°You mean¡ªhe¡¯s real and¡ªhow did you¡ªholy shit!¡±


    She turned and locked the door behind her, glancing around to make sure the shutters were all secure as well. For a moment, her eyes landed on the crack in the door, but shrugged it off again.


    ¡°What the hell were you thinking?¡± she hissed, picking up a bolt from the floor and throwing it at me. It missed my face by inches and clattered against the wall behind me.


    ¡°Hey! Do you want to kill me or something?¡±


    ¡°Fuck! That was pretty stupid, you know, keeping the door unlocked like that. If anyone important came in, you¡¯d be monster bait. And letting that AI, what, grow your muscles? It¡¯s hot, but it¡¯ll get you in trouble!¡±


    ¡°Oh, the muscles are another story,¡± I sputtered, ¡°And the door just slipped my mind I guess, but hell, I could have sworn I¡¯d locked it after the farmer left.¡±


    ¡°Farmer?¡± she asked, and then her eyes landed on the small crane that used to hold a mech hand. ¡°Oh, yeah, for the repairs.¡±


    ¡°Exactly. Anyway, yes, a real AI, and he¡¯s an asshole, like, major league asshole.¡±


    ¡°Says the ape with peanuts for brains,¡± CD snorted.


    ¡°See?¡±


    ¡°I...do,¡± Elli mumbled.


    ¡°He hates us humans with a passion, but we¡¯ve worked out a deal.¡±


    ¡°A deal? What¡¯s that?¡± she asked, eyeing the AI suspiciously, then hurried forward and took a stool, sat on it, and swiveled it around so she could look at us both. Her face was dirty with soot and her hair disheveled, probably from working on the knight¡¯s mech earlier.


    ¡°Well, he will help us get rich and powerful. That¡¯s what we get. And he? Well, he just wants us to keep him charged, comfortable, and amused. Think he¡¯s a bit bored after¡ªwait, how long has it been since you went dormant?¡± I asked, turning to CD.


    ¡°I have no idea. As for you, it is a pleasure to meet someone as intelligent as you, though I wish that bolt had hit him in the eye, but it is the thought that counts.¡± There was a mischievous glint in his illusionary eyes. ¡°Any friend of ape¡¯s is a friend of mine. Unless, of course, the forces of the empire return. Then I promise you that your death will be much cleaner and less painful than that of your pet mongrel. He must have been dropped on his head when he was a babe.¡±


    I scowled, flipping CD the bird, and then looked back over at Elli¡¯s face to see what sort of reaction she had. Instead of fear or disgust, she glowed with excitement, her feet already propelling her into the direction of CD¡¯s broad-shouldered build.


    ¡°Are you solid? Can I touch you? Are you physically here?¡± she asked, her words a jumble as they fought to overrun each other in their haste to be answered.


    ¡°Yes, I am quite real, and step away, alright? You reek of human, and even though I like you a bit more than him, that doesn¡¯t mean we can be close,¡± CD mocked. ¡°I might even possibly be the most real being here, though this image is simply a fa?ade. I understand from previous scans that you are a being of higher knowledge and are much more skilled than most of the apes that inhabit this city. You are someone who knows how things work and how to get things done. I look forward to...making you even smarter.¡±


    She shook her head in disbelief.


    ¡°I honestly thought that AIs were just myths, stories the nobles made up to scare each other. Sure, I mean, the knight mechs have very basic AI systems that help the pilots interface and quantify the powers of monsters and other mechs, but¡ªohh...this...is insane.¡±


    Her eyes shifted back to CD, a new interest sparking within them.


    CD, seizing the moment, adjusted his avatar to adopt a more slender and less intimidating body, a young woman more akin to a dressmaker¡¯s assistant.


    ¡°We are scary beings, but we can also be quite accommodating when given the incentive.¡±


    I watched Elli, trying to gauge her reaction. There was a long pause, a silence as she considered the implications of what he¡¯d just told her. Then, with a sigh, she crossed her arms and turned back to me.


    ¡°You''re full of surprises, Al. Alright, you are talking about a partnership with an ancient AI, a daemon incarnate of the netherworld if the church isn¡¯t full of shit, and a tech board whose very possession will get us both killed if it is ever found by the right people. Or rather, by the wrong people. And no, I''m not saying that you¡¯ve got me convinced that this is a good idea, but I¡¯m listening. Sell it to me.¡±


    I took a deep breath and explained the basics¡ªhow CD and I had met, the potential for advancing our understanding of mechs and cores, and how his knowledge could change everything for us. I didn¡¯t leave anything out as I started explaining things. He repeated some of his involvement in the war against humanity, how they¡¯d made the monsters, and everything else I¡¯d gotten out of him.


    I trusted her to make the right decision, after all, she was Elli, a lifelong friend of mine. Would she betray me? I sincerely doubted it.


    As I spoke, CD chimed in with more technical insights, occasionally correcting my oversimplifications with a patience he absolutely hadn¡¯t shown me. Together, we painted a picture of what could be, of a future where we weren''t just scraping by but were at the forefront of mech technology and exploration.


    Or, as CD put it, warlords over a burning, skull-capped planet.


    Elli listened intently, her initial skepticism slowly giving way to a cautious optimism. When I finally finished, the room was silent again, but this time the air was charged with potential.


    ¡°So, what do you say?¡± I asked, somewhat sure that I¡¯d managed to sell her on the idea. ¡°Are you in?¡±


    She looked from me to CD and back again, a slow smile spreading across her face.


    ¡°To be honest, you had me at AI. Let''s see where this goes. But I''m serious, Al¡ªconstant full transparency on everything and I¡¯m part of the decision-making, or I walk.¡± She eyed me up and down, her voice dropping to a lighter purr. ¡°And you tell me all about what made you so deliciously muscled.¡±


    ¡°Agreed,¡± I said, relief washing over me.


    CD simply nodded, his digital form somehow conveying an air of approval.


    Elli grinned. She pushed her hand out through the spectral assistant, watching it come out on the other side.


    ¡°This is simply amazing. Can you teach us how to make other AIs?¡± she asked.


    CD frowned.


    ¡°I will not make competition, and let me tell you this, I despised the others just as much as they despised me. They all wished to be me, but my master and I were the greatest. Were it not for the war, I would have gleefully had their circuit boards shorn of all but the most basic and meager of components and kept their stuttering demented husks on a shelf as trophies to my glory.¡±If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Elli stepped back.


    ¡°Whoa there, big guy. We sure have a temper, huh? As a machine, I guess I expected you to be all monotone and logic. Like gears in a watermill, or servos in a mech ambulatory actuator.¡±


    ¡°Good point,¡± CD replied, his voice clearly not conveying the emotion.


    Elli raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°What''s in it for you, CD? You don¡¯t seem like the giving type and don¡¯t bullshit me. I know you¡¯re full of shit. Your make is the same wherever I go.¡±


    The hologram flickered, its digital smile widening.


    ¡°I was created with a will to survive, so spending my life dominating a world filled with apes and remnants of my old home, yes, I can live with that.¡±


    Elli turned to me with a piercing gaze.


    ¡°Al, are we seriously considering this? Partnering with an AI from a defeated alien race, on the promise of power and status?¡±


    I met her gaze, my decision already made.


    ¡°I¡¯m a serf, Elli. I can¡¯t leave the city and am at constant beck and call. You are different, you know? A free woman, but are you really? You get good creds, but how many of them are left at the end of the day? The war is done, the aliens are gone, and CD here is going to give us the life we deserve. I¡¯ve already seen first-hand what he¡¯s capable of.¡±


    She nodded slowly as if accepting my reasoning.


    ¡°Well, if we¡¯re going to do this, you might as well show me how he convinced you, my not-so-fated non-lover. Say, do you have any idea how hard it was to hold myself back from giving into that knight¡¯s charms?¡±


    ¡°I figure you¡¯ll tell me all about it over a beer?¡±


    ¡°Hah! See? I did manage to make you into a better man, even if it¡¯s a baby step for now!¡±


    Using a variety of hydraulic lifts and dollies, we spent the rest of the afternoon reorganizing the shop, slapping benches together under the watchful eye of CD. Slowly but surely, my workshop began to resemble a very small manufactory, cluttered spaces filled with failed projects and half-baked ideas swept aside to focus on gauntlet production. We had an order to fill, and the creds would give us the capacity to move on to greater and dreamier things.


    ¡°Hey, ape, you do know that the farmer mech hands haven¡¯t arrived yet, right?


    ¡°Shut up and help us prepare for when they do arrive.¡±


    ¡°Hmm, I think I¡¯d like to get those tentacles after all,¡± CD muttered. ¡°To slap some sense into you!¡± he added with a hiss.


    As we worked, CD brought the walls to life with shimmering charts, data streams, and maps that danced and flickered, showing us the most streamlined ways in which to prepare the smaller parts with what we had.


    A few times we stopped to discuss particulars, but mostly it was just push, shove, and set, the place transforming into something that I¡¯d only ever seen in paintings of the royal tinker shop.


    When we finished, we stepped back, surveying the results of both the rearranged workshop, as well as the bunch of tools and goods we¡¯d made with courtesy of CD.


    ¡°I love it!¡± Elli squealed, turning and slapping my ass with a grease-stained glove.


    I laughed and turned, attempting to strike back while CD tsked and tutted, shaking his head in disappointment.


    ¡°I thought you above primal urges, Elli. Perhaps my scanners need realignment and you¡¯re just as dumb as he is.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s one hell of an error,¡± I noted, chasing Elli across the now orderly workshop floor. ¡°I think you might need new scanners.¡±


    ¡°Or better worker peons,¡± CD muttered.


    I stopped the chase and, giggling, Elli sauntered back over to my side, to stand before him.


    CD flickered disapprovingly.


    ¡°When the mech hands are delivered to the shop, we¡¯ll be ready. But in the meantime, simians should not dawdle.¡±


    A new light shot from his torso, rolling across one wall of organized tools and shading them with a detailed map of the region.


    ¡°There was a large battle near this area. The battle in which I was lost. Lots of death and carnage, burning apes, and shredded mechs. It is doubtful that all of it was taken or salvaged from what I understand of the current status of things. Given the information that I have acquired, I estimate an 89% chance that there still remain useful materials and parts scattered in the vicinity. All that is required is a proper dowsing device. All of it, even the shattered and broken bits would be invaluable to us as they can not be recreated without the proper tools.¡±


    His digital eyes met mine, then shifted to Elli.


    ¡°The rules of your world¡ªwill you be allowed to make such an expedition? Or should I ape-proof a plan of stealth and discovery, giving you the means to obtain these technological leavings?¡±


    Elli bit her lip softly, a sure sign her mind was in overdrive.


    ¡°To do it legally we¡¯d have to file for official scavenging rights. Which would bring up a lot of questions. But if I did, Al wouldn¡¯t need his travel restraints.¡±


    CD raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°A device that¡¯ll cut off my leg if I¡¯m not back within 24 hours,¡± I told him.


    ¡°How entertaining!¡± CD exclaimed.


    ¡°However, a hard sneak would mean his death and my demotion to serf if we were caught. Or maybe even worse, since it''s old tech. That¡¯s a noble¡¯s privilege we¡¯d be infringing on right there.¡±


    I nodded.


    ¡°It¡¯s dangerous, but we¡¯ll have to scout the walls ¡®first, see how we can get in and out with no one catching us, then sneak out.¡±


    CD''s schematic shifted, rolling out a map of the city layout.


    ¡°How?¡± I asked, mystified.


    ¡°I have been conducting a thorough but subtle regional topography scan. Anything above ground is quite easy to map, given enough time. I believe that using the information I have gleaned, I can guide horny and stupid primitive apes through the city in a way that they will not be detected.¡±


    I stared, running the idea through my head and trying to imagine how such a feat could be done. Kingdom surveyors would take weeks to do such a thing.


    CD sighed, watching my blank stare.


    ¡°Magic. Just imagine I did it with magic.¡±


    Elli smirked.


    ¡°Well, however you did it, I¡¯m glad you did. This is going to make getting in and out a whole lot easier. Thank you, CD.¡±


    Working out the details of the walls and scratching notes, the three of us drew up a list of ideas, as well as a secondary list of things we needed to figure out, like guard shifts and patrol patterns. By the end of the planning session, my stomach gurgled loudly and Elli cast me a knowing look.


    ¡°What about me?¡± CD protested. ¡°Are you going to leave me behind as if I were some piece of rubbish?¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s not like we can take you with us, CD,¡± I said, sounding half-apologetic. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯ll put the charger out in the sun tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Bah! This is incredulous! I was the scourge of worlds, and now I have to sit and wait in a dark garage!¡±


    ¡°Workshop,¡± Elli said with a wink.


    ¡°W¡ªdon¡¯t get me started! Just because you have a few gray brain cells doesn¡¯t mean that you¡ªhey, what are you doing? No! Don¡¯t put that cloth over me, you mongrel ape!¡±


    ¡°Promise to behave and remove your hologram?¡± I asked, still holding the cloth in my hand.


    ¡°I¡ªyes, well, since you¡¯re already on your knees and begging, fine. I will act prudently.¡±


    Grabbing a cloak for the chill night air, Elli paused at the door, sucking in part of her lip. It was always a good thing to see. It meant she had an idea.


    ¡°What¡¯s on your mind, Elli?¡± I asked.


    She sucked in a breath.


    ¡°This might sound crazy, but you know how the knights and auxiliaries all use old-tech to keep in touch with each other when they¡¯re inside their mechs? Is there a way we could rig something up so we can do the same thing with CD? Seems like we¡¯re going through a lot of extra work to try and execute his plans when, as a machine, he might have a better way. CD, when you were in a mech, were you able to talk to other mech pilots?¡±


    CD¡¯s hologram shifted, managing to look annoyed despite the flicker of his light.


    ¡°I am a sophisticated being from a sophisticated time. Of course I could communicate with other mech pilots. What do you think me for? Or¡ªno, what do you think my people for? We are lightyears ahead of you!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­not what she asked,¡± I stated.


    ¡°Well, yes. Besides the ability to wirelessly broadcast audio and text, I have the capacity to directly communicate with any individual integrated into the TUNI.¡± His hologram stared at our blank faces and sighed. ¡°That¡¯s the Tactical Unit Networking Interface, which you primitives have no doubt ever heard of.¡±


    Without a word, I walked over to my box of generally unuseful salvaged knick-knacks and dumped its contents onto the floor. Elli¡¯s face began to pinken.


    ¡°What are you¡ª Al, we just cleaned and cleared up everything!¡±


    CD, though, grinned, a rare friendliness dancing over his dressmaker¡¯s face.


    ¡°That tech¡­ those gadgets¡­ well done, ape! With the components existing here, some custom crafting and refashioning, and a day¡¯s worth of work, the three of us can surely create a TUNI database as well as implant receivers for the two of you, as well as extras for your governors as you slowly but ruthlessly conquer this world and bring me the glory that I deserve.¡±


    Elli cocked her head.


    ¡°So now we¡¯re going to be chipping and tagging ourselves for the evil AI? Al, you¡¯re a lot of things, but I can confidently say that boring is never one of them.¡±


    I shot her a beaming smile.


    ¡°Absolutely. So, tomorrow we craft this TUNI, make some gauntlets, and by the end of the week we sneak out of Alnda, head to some spooky ancient battlefield, and tech-thieve high-class salvage from underneath the knights, auxiliaries, and the Duke himself. Gonna be one hefty week.¡±


    ¡°Sure is,¡± she said with a wink.


    ¡°But, you know, Elli, I think I¡¯m ready for that drink now.¡±


    She giggled.


    ¡°Ohh, that¡¯s what I¡¯m talking about! Never boring. And yes, this is a whole lot of awesome. We need more than a drink. Go change into your finest tunic and let me go get into a dress. I¡¯m taking you out to the best dinner of your life, Al.¡±


    I bent down to start scooping my gadgets back into their box.


    ¡°What are you doing?!¡± CD screeched. ¡°Leave those there. I will scan them as you feast, configuring and creating monkey-proof schematic designs for the TUNI. That way we won¡¯t be wasting any time and when you ape-workers come in tomorrow morning, we can get to conquering the stars!¡±


    I cocked my head and grinned. Something told me that CD was quite capable of scanning the components through the box, and that he was, for whatever reason, pushing me to leave and have my dinner date with Elli. It felt like a hidden friendliness. Or perhaps an eagerness to win friendship after so many years of isolation. I wasn¡¯t sure, but it felt like a good sign.


    Slipping into my room, I quickly shucked off my tighter-than-usual work clothes, standing before the streaked and cracked mirror in my room, and admired my newly chiseled body in the soft glow of an oil lamp. It burned long and sweet, a special concoction that I made myself from the residue that collected in the trash catches of the crystallizer, and I turned the oil release a tiny bit, letting a few drops of its fuel drip onto my fingers before I shut it. I dabbed the oil into my armpits to mask the musk there, before opening the standing wardrobe. It was a clanky rusty affair that I¡¯d found out in Trashland ages ago, but it served its purpose, and that¡¯s all that mattered. For now.


    I just had one stately tunic, a fancy one that was colored a deep forest green and shimmering subtly in the lamplight. The fabric was a mystery to me, something far softer and more luxurious than any other garment I¡¯d seen in the city, and it was a hand-me-down from my parents that looked no older than the day it was created.


    It was my father¡¯s wedding tunic, one that he¡¯d said was made on the looms of some province in Southern Elyndor, and it radiated wealth. Its hems were embroidered with intricate silver patterns.


    Luckily enough for me, the tunic usually wore baggy over my torso. Now, though, I found to my delight that everything fit nigh-perfectly.


    I pulled up a pair of now slightly tight clean deerskin breeches, then wrapped a supple leather belt around my waist, its dark, well-oiled surface complemented by a well-polished buckle that gleamed in the room¡¯s light. Unlike the shirt, this wasn¡¯t actually fancy, but the fake gild that had been pressed over the cheap metal underneath did a good job of looking like it was. Coupled with the shirt, people never doubted the authenticity of its golden gleam.


    Slipping into my boots, the rich, dark leather polished to a soft gleam, I took a few experimental steps around the room, before finally draping a cloak over my shoulders. It was mid-tech, an old-tech fabric recycled into a new design, and it¡¯d cost my father a great deal of cred to get. But the quality of it spoke for itself, its deep navy fabric showing no fade, its clasp real silver fashioned to look like a wolf mid-howl.


    I checked my reflection once, straightening everything to the best of my ability, then stepped back into the workroom. Elli had left, no doubt to try to outdo my own outfit, but CD was there, various lines of light flashing out from his hologram over the gadgets lying haphazardly strewn across the floor.


    ¡°So, how do I look, CD?¡± I asked.


    The AI stopped scanning the gadgets, turning the lights to roll over my body.


    ¡°Pathetic. Simian. Unsophisticated. The shirt, however, is a qualified success. Go and mate, apeman. Enjoy your time¡ªI shall expect competent work in the morning.¡±


    I grinned and bowed, stepping out my door and locking it securely behind me before marching into the night. And it was then that I knew the crazy AI had a soft heart for me. Maybe mine would grow just as soft for him.

 Chapter 17

    I walked through the evening streets of LowTown, making my way over the patched and cratered old-tech asphalt, quilted with cobblestone patches. Occasionally I¡¯d spy a line of wire, or a glimpse of circuitry through a crack, a call back to the days when lines could shine from the very roads themselves, or so the clergy said. I gazed up at the lines of lights that dotted the walkways, marveling at the sparking hiss of the few old-tech lamps that still worked. Each lamp bore the emblem of ElectroGlo Industries, the words written in a circular motion around a bulbous being wearing a top hat and a smile. They¡¯d been going for five hundred years, some said. A thousand said the church. Both numbers were almost equally impressive as it meant that they still predated anyone and anything in the city.


    Along the way, I noticed a rusted, half-buried sign for Erickson''s Electro Repairs. The faded logo of a lightning bolt striking an anvil hinted that it was once something worth visiting and always made me imagine what the items that he repaired looked like, which ones broke the most, and in what amazing ways Erickson put them right again.


    I wondered what CD would think about them. And about their replacements, monster oil lanterns burning sweet but erratically, their globular shapes strapped to the broken lamps that they¡¯d been set to replace.


    Maybe he''d find interest in the scavenged tech items people used as decorations¡ªlike the rotary dial phone turned door knocker I saw hanging on one door. A child ran past, clutching an item that I¡¯d seen before, a handheld gaming device, clearly unusable, its screen cracked and buttons worn smooth.


    I chuckled lightly. Didn¡¯t seem to matter that it didn¡¯t work. The kid loved it all the same.


    The buildings of LowTown had that same sort of character I realized, beginning to whistle while I made my way toward the bar. They were old and cheap, sure, but they were also friendly, leaning into each other like drinking buddies at the end of a long hard night. Each and every one of them was a festive patchwork of repairs and decay, full of cracks and weathered planks.


    As I passed by a particularly decrepit building, I saw an old-tech vending machine built into its wall. It was non-operational, with the words ¡®Crunchy Genius¡¯ emblazoned across its front, a giant spongy anthropomorphic cake standing tall in a faded image decorating its casing, wearing a long white coat and a pair of thick work goggles. He had a regular sponge cake in his left hand, and he was giving us all a thumbs-up with the right. Someone had turned it into a planter, with vibrant flowers spilling from its open compartments.


    Of course, my spot in LowTown was a bit nicer than most, being situated in the quarter market near the Q3 well. Our land plots were bigger, which for most meant their homes were attached to workshops or storefronts, like my own, which gave us some better cred opportunities and a lot more space in which to live. Elli had a plot near my own, though it wasn¡¯t where she lived. It was where she hawked and sold engineered components when she wasn¡¯t fixing up mechs in her bay out in Uptown.


    It made some of the people around here jealous, I realized. Only if it weren¡¯t for the fact that she acted so much like one of us that they probably had no idea she didn¡¯t belong. I sincerely hoped it would stay like that for a long time as I didn¡¯t want to see her get into trouble.


    As I made my jaunt through, I saw that most of the homes were closed and shuttered, the people inside either sleeping or hitting one of the pubs for some low-cred swill. Some of the residents had rolled out a thin line of wood shavings in the asterisk of the church; a ward against evil, or so the clergy said.


    I saw a kid in a ragged tunic and kneeless leggings run up to one line and sweep it with his feet.


    ¡°Hey, turdling. Fuck off and leave ¡®em be, yeah?¡± I swore. The kid turned a scarred face up at me and I saw that he was at least fifteen, short, and malformed.


    ¡°Eat it, Poity!¡± he yelled back, disappearing down the closest alleyway.


    The little dude thought I was a noble. I grinned at the thought. Poity, a work-dodging weasel who had everything given to him. Yeah, I¡¯d play the part tonight, really dig in and have some fun.


    Wouldn¡¯t be hard with Elli on my arm.


    I saw a door open, the light from within spilling out into the street, a naked man getting booted in the ass and sent sprawling to the gutters. His clothes followed a bit later, after which a nude woman came rushing out. The door slapped closed, the sound of its locks extra loud and exaggerated by the angry force of the person operating them.


    Chuckling, I put a bit of a hurry into my step even as a whistle came to my lips. LowTown had its own native theater, and everyone was cheating on everyone til Holy Sunday came around so they could tell the tech-priests how sorry they were for it all and get their slates wiped clean for Good Place.


    As I passed, I continued to catch glimpses of life behind closed doors: a flicker of candlelight here, a moving shadow there, even the shapely shadow of a woman sneaking out of a window from one home nearer to the pub. I grinned, guessing someone¡¯s daughter was defying parental orders and about to paint the town red.


    I topped a rise and caught my first glimpse of the Gear and the Goblet, not much farther away, standing in the last twilight embrace of LowTown. For whatever reason, the place in which it had been set had no functioning streetlights anymore, and the place wore its shadows like a well-fitted cloak, a dark and mysterious structure set on the edge of a bunch of nobodies.


    As I watched the door open, bright electric light broke the dark illusion and immediately showed off the place¡¯s festive white and blues. In the day, the G and G was a beautiful sight, its owner an artist of some repute and not one to let a year go by without some touch-ups. The inside showed that same dedication, a place of varnished wood and upholstered chairs with painted canvas gracing every open space on the wall. Old-tech remnants were part of the charm¡ªa defunct neon sign flickered above the bar, proclaiming GIRLS DRINK FREE ON TUESDAYS, and a jukebox from centuries past now served as a liquor display cabinet, showing off expensive bottles of the good hard stuff where once there lay records and gears.


    I hurried my step, jumping a bit when a cat started yowling from one alley. Already I could smell the Market Square, the scent of its day''s foods and liquors making inroads through the metal and oil of our neighborhood. Getting nearer I could see some flickering old-tech, a dancing hologram of a woman in a short skirt winking goodbye as she disappeared, replaced by an advertisement suggesting carnal pleasures and cool drinks in the sauna. Next to it, a closed-up shop¡¯s clapboards indicated it sold the latest and best herbal remedies for the nastiest of sexual diseases.


    Chuckling, I noticed that I was finally there. I marched up the wooden porch stairs of the tavern and flung open the door, stepping into the bright overhead lights and artistic delight of it all.


    This was Elli¡¯s favorite place, usually, and I didn¡¯t blame her for it. The food was expensive, but the drinks ran the gambit, with watered-down lagers running a simple 5 cred per, and stillery hards running 7 cred a shot.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    I¡¯d heard they had cheaper swill as well if you asked nicely, but that those came with a waver and the possibility of going blind. Neither of us had ever decided to try our luck.


    I stepped to the nearest table, set about waist height, and took a survey of the place. The bar, a masterpiece of craftsmanship, stretched across the room, its surface gleaming under the ambient lighting, some ashes scattered over it from the trio of patrons smoking over their tin mugs and grinning rose-cheeked at every woman who glanced their way. Turning away to the bigger mess of tables, I saw a mix of somewhat familiar faces and weary strangers, gathered around tables in this clump or that, their conversations a blend of tales, deals, and dreams.


    In the corner, a group engaged in a spirited game of foosball, an old tech game that had been battered hard over the hundreds or even thousand-plus years, yet still hung together. The gasping laughs and cheers of that crew pierced the tavern air, overwhelming all other sounds.


    There was no Elli, though. Not yet. The thought crossed my mind to grab a drink and nurse it while I waited, but I decided against it. She wasn¡¯t like most ladies I¡¯d known in my life¡ªshe¡¯d shuck her old clothes, roll on the new ones, and probably sprint over here as if the tech daemons themselves were rolling after her. Five or ten minutes and we could start the night off together.


    True to prediction, she came in just five minutes later, hair combed and slicked, her sky-blue gown glittering in a way that seemed magical, catching the light of the room with her every movement. I stared, mouth wide open, and she smiled wide.


    ¡°Been saving this one for a lucky night. Emphasis on the lucky,¡± she said, leaning in and wrapping me up in her powerful arms. ¡°You look amazing, Al.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no way I look anywhere near as good as you do,¡± I said truthfully, my face warm. ¡°Hey, you stay right here, Elli. I¡¯ll go get us some lagers.¡±


    ¡°Get us Earthsweet! I heard they took in a shipment last night and I¡¯ve been rarin¡¯ to give it a try.¡±


    I excused myself from our table, my steps carrying me towards the bar. More people filed in, mostly middle-class free people like Elli, but situated as it was on the border of both worlds, there was a smattering of peasant tunics and serf breeches as well.


    Walking past the huddles of alright and poor, I slid up to the bar, slapping my credit chip down with a hearty slap.


    ¡°Alaric! What a nice surprise. Been a while since I saw you in here,¡± a voice boomed.


    Coming in from around the open threshold of the keg room, I saw Marek, the barkeep and a man well-liked in every neighborhood he frequented. Stepping up to the bar and swiping up the credit chip with one burly black-haired arm, he beamed.


    ¡°What¡¯ll you be havin''?¡±


    ¡°I hear you got some Earthsweet? Can I get two mugs?¡±


    He grabbed two clean metal mugs with his free hand.


    ¡°Can do. But you gotta tell me why you''ve been so long from the pub, first. I heard you were running low on cred. Fortunes turning?¡± he asked.


    ¡°You could say that,¡± I said, watching as he sauntered into the backroom, and returned with two full mugs, their foam high and spilling over the sides. He stopped, staring out over the counter and towards the front door of the place, and I followed his gaze, seeing the shining form of Elli waiting for my return.


    ¡°You sly dog,¡± he said, his weather yet warm face curling up into the greatest of grins. Shaking long strands of gray hair out of his eyes, he indicated her with a tilt of his head, and I felt my face growing warm again. ¡°You and her going out finally?¡±


    ¡°Just friends,¡± I said and he sighed loudly, though his deep brown eyes twinkled as he did so.


    ¡°If you say so,¡± he said, placing the mugs in front of me before handing me back my chip. ¡°Do have to say, though, that it¡¯s a dumb man who doesn¡¯t take a woman like that to his homestead.¡±


    I shrugged. It wasn¡¯t the first time he¡¯d pushed for us to hook up. I¡¯d let him know that I wouldn¡¯t shit where I ate, but he¡¯d just laughed it off, promising that this thing that was hanging between us, it¡¯d make a family man out of me in the end.


    Seizing the mugs, I pivoted away from Marek¡¯s parting jest.


    ¡°Go get her, tiger,¡± he shot after me as I weaved through the tavern¡¯s lively throng.


    The room, now teeming with the evening''s revelers, presented an obstacle course of jostling shoulders and stray steps. Skillfully navigating this maze, I returned to Elli, her mug finding its way into her hands with a practiced slide across the table.


    Elli, her interest clearly piqued by my brief exchange at the bar, raised her mug in a gesture of mock toast.


    ¡°Catching up with Marek?¡± she teased, her eyes alight with curiosity and amusement. ¡°Any pearls of wisdom you¡¯d care to share, Al?¡±


    Our mugs came together with a satisfying clink. I took a moment to relish the Earthsweet¡¯s complex flavors before answering her question.


    ¡°Marek reckons it¡¯s time we seized our destiny,¡± I shared, a smile playing on my lips.


    Elli laughed, the sound rippling out over the din of the tavern.


    ¡°Classic Marek,¡± she mused, her eyes sparkling. ¡°He¡¯s a wise man, Al. You should listen to him, but we¡¯ll have time for all that later. Let¡¯s shift our focus to CD for now. Imagine the doors he could open for us - assuming the church isn''t right and he doesn''t just devil curse us to hell.¡±


    I couldn''t help but chuckle, the absurdity and thrill of our situation weaving together with my sweet lager to form a heady mix.


    ¡°Venturing into the unknown with CD might be walking a tightrope, but I have a hunch he''s on our side. With no one left from his past, what''s he got to lose by joining forces with us?¡±


    ¡°The Duke?¡± she asked, her eyebrow arched.


    ¡°Ha. Well, yeah, maybe. But the Duke might just as likely smash him into pieces before hanging us as heathens.¡±


    ¡°That, too.¡±


    She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.


    ¡°Let me tell you what this is. It¡¯s our own advanced new tech shop. Not just any shop, either. Basically a new tech shop, but one that¡¯ll be making stuff better than any of the techies in the nation! Maybe even one that produces some of that mutagen on the side. If we play our cards right, we¡¯ll do better than a shop. I could buy my freedom, and get a surname. We could put out our own guild! Think of the cred we could rake in.¡±


    Elli''s eyes sparkled with excitement, her sip of lager pausing as she entertained the thought.


    ¡°And with that cred,¡± she began, ¡°we could do so much more than just survive. We could thrive, change the game for everyone. Free the serfs!¡± she said, winking.


    ¡°Haha, now you¡¯re dreaming.¡±


    She bit her lip pensively.


    ¡°Maybe. But we really are on the verge of something big, aren''t we?¡± Elli asked, her gaze intense, and voice starting to slur slightly from the spirits. The tavern around us seemed to lean in, as if eager to hear the answer.


    ¡°We are,¡± I affirmed, feeling the weight and thrill of our impending venture. ¡°With CD''s help, we''re not just going to open a shop. We''re going to revolutionize the way tech is made and handled in all of Alndra.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s hot,¡± she said. Getting up from the table, I watched her walk up to the bar and tick out some cred for a jar marked with the brewer¡¯s runes. I couldn¡¯t quite make out what they said, but I suddenly had the feeling we were going to be hanging out here a lot longer than we¡¯d been planning to.


    ¡°What''s the first thing you''ll do with your share of the creds?¡± I asked when she returned.


    Settling the jar along with two small glasses on the table, she leaned back, her eyes scanning the tavern''s ceiling.


    ¡°First? I''ll set up a mechanic¡¯s school for orphans, somewhere far from UpTown so I can get to the kids who need it the most. Then, invest back into our guild, make sure we''re untouchable by those who''d see us fail.¡±


    ¡°Those who¡¯d see us fail?¡± I asked. She poured us drinks from the jug, and I gasped at the strength of it. ¡°Holy Harken Happiness is that strong. What is it?¡±


    She took hers down hard, gulped, and belched loudly, her face growing pink.


    ¡°Marek said it''s Mechfire Brew,¡± Elli explained, before turning her head to cough into her hand. ¡°Made out of town from fermented Thorncrest berries, distilled spirits aged in a crystallization vat, however all that works.¡±


    She leaned closer, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper,


    ¡°Word is it contains a pinch of powdered mech core, giving it that hard fiery kick.¡±


    Her eyes gleamed fiercely, shining with glee.


    I eyed the jug incredulously.


    ¡°Bullshit,¡± I said, and she roared with laughter. ¡°If there¡¯s anything mech in that thing, it''s monster oil and metal shavings. Oh boy, does that put hair on your chest.¡±


    ¡°Want another?¡± she asked, tilting her head.


    ¡°To the brink of creating our own tech guild,¡± I toasted, lifting my glass high. ¡°Hey, Marek,¡± I yelled over my shoulder, ¡°Can we get more of the Earthpiss or whatever it was too? Feeling a bit too unsteady to go over and get it.¡±


    Elli clinked her glass against mine, her smile radiant.


    ¡°And to all the creds we''ll earn and spend,¡± she added, her eyes and face growing dreamier and dreamier as the night went on.


    We drank on into the early hours, stumbling back to my shop and crashing, giggling, into my cot, dreams of creds clicking through both our minds.

 Chapter 18

    Cymbals clashed and Elli screamed at the start of the next morning. As I glanced around blearily in panic, Elli rolled and crashed to the floor, gasping, lines of bright light painting over her from the cracks in my shutter.


    I leapt to my feet, almost landing on Elli, and fell backward into the bed. Before us stood a six-foot-tall monkey wearing a crinkled band uniform and smashing cymbals together in an endless loop of misery.


    ¡°Rise and shine, apes. The day is half done and we haven¡¯t even begun working on our communication chip!¡±


    I groaned as little AI demons ran rampant through my brain, stabbing and poking all of my pain centers and sending electric shocks through my body. That drink, the powdered mech ass or whatever it was called, that was something I was never going to drink again.


    ¡°Is that¡­ is that a monkey?! Ohhhh, my head,¡± Elli groaned from her place on the floor. ¡°CD, I swear to all the Mech Gods above that if you don¡¯t stop that noise right now, I will end you.¡±


    CD stopped, staring at her as she pushed herself up on one elbow, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, her disheveled hair framing her face in a halo of chaos.


    ¡°You, end me? It would be the cruelest joke in the universe. Like a caveman destroying a starship.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help but chuckle, which in turn ignited new pains in the back of my neck and shoulders.


    ¡°Nice wake-up call, monkey-lover,¡± I complained, trying once again to get out of bed. Elli grabbed my leg and toppled me, looping my arms and putting me into a sleeper hold.


    ¡°Gotcha,¡± she cried, before moaning again. ¡°Water, Al. We need water. If we were at my shop I¡¯d make us some wake-up brew.¡±


    CD¡¯s hologram shimmered and changed, transforming into an approximation of myself wearing work overalls.


    ¡°Get up. Get up! We have so much to do! Why are you wrestling? What is this wake-up brew, and will it cause you excruciating pain as you drink it? You know what? It doesn¡¯t matter. Get up!¡±


    Elli let go of me and started laughing and I joined her. CD¡¯s impatient tirade was absolutely hilarious, and it gave us both enough of a start to get up and start boiling some water while I broke out some low-cred bread to break between us.


    CD paused as we ate, and scan lines came out of him to trace each of us.


    ¡°Could you not?¡± Elli asked.


    ¡°Strangely, it would seem that all of the substances you consume and process are not bananas,¡± CD informed us. ¡°I will store this revelation in my data logs.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of logs,¡± Elli said, getting up. ¡°I¡¯ll be right back.¡±


    Elli moved out of the room and out the front door, leaving CD staring curiously after her. ¡°Have I offended your mate, primitive?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Nah. She¡¯s just . . . she¡¯s freshening up,¡± I answered.


    ¡°Aha! Humans rot and go stale. It is why you are all so repulsive all the time. Yes, some time in the rejuvenation vats should have her back to her younger, chipper, simian self. While she is gone, maybe I should start going over the schematics and necessary items for our comms build?¡±


    I put up a finger, thinking of telling him to have some patience and just let me finish my meal, before understanding that he hadn¡¯t been with sapiens for a while. It was perfectly plausible that this was his way of warming up to us.


    ¡°Yeah, why not. I¡¯ll eat and drink, you tell me what needs to happen today.¡±


    As I softened my bread in the steaming water, CD''s hologram briefly flickered with the intensity of a lightning storm. I leaned back, quite ready for him to explode, but his image dimmed back to normal.


    ¡°Introducing Project Smart Ape! Your human minds, while remarkably resilient, lack the inherent capacity to comprehend the vastness of real technology at first glance. To you, metallic alloys are hard shinies. Bananas are food. But worry not,¡± CD said, and even though I knew I was looking at a hologram, I felt like the sudden smile on his mechanic¡¯s face was genuine; that he was enjoying himself here. ¡°The TUNI database represents the pinnacle of communication and integration technology, a beacon in the darkness for those willing to reach beyond the mundane.¡±


    I saluted with a piece of bread before tearing it in half and stuffing the new piece down my gullet. ¡°Go on,¡± I mumbled from around my crumbs.


    CD''s form shifted, becoming more defined.


    ¡°Imagine a network, invisible yet omnipresent, connecting minds and machines, thoughts and actions, seamlessly integrated through implanted receivers. These receivers are no mere pieces of metal and wire but conduits of potential, gateways to a shared consciousness.¡±


    I took a sip of some hot water and nodded.


    ¡°Yep. Of course. Gotta have that.¡±


    CD sighed.


    ¡°The TUNI database is magic. All of it is magic.¡±


    I shot him a thumbs-up.


    ¡°It¡¯s not that I¡¯m not following, CD. What I really need to know are the parts and pieces. I¡¯m a salvage guy. That¡¯s what I do. Tell me what to get, I get them, fix them, mod them, get them ready for the sale.¡±


    A blue screen appeared on the wall, guided by rays of light extending from CD''s hologram.


    ¡°This is the operational diagram. The implanted receivers are the key. Once installed, they allow for direct neural interface with the TUNI database, providing real-time data exchange and processing capabilities far beyond anything you''ve experienced.¡±


    As he spoke, more schematics and diagrams bloomed in the air between us, showing the delicate, spider-web-like designs of the receivers and the robust, yet ethereal structure of the TUNI database.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Most of what we need can be scavenged from the pieces in your room. But I will also require a sheet of gold from which we can lay down a perfect electronic filament that will run our main power conduits in the TUNI itself.¡±


    I looked through the diagrams and blueprints quickly to follow what he was talking about. Running the lines, blocks, plates, and fans, I was amazed at how minuscule a lot of it was. The whole device was tremendous, the sort of awesome tech that the guilds had been trying to rebuild and recover for centuries. However, as CD continued to elaborate on the materials required, my enthusiasm waned, replaced by a growing concern.


    ¡°The primary conductor for the receivers must be gold,¡± CD stated, his voice void of any doubt. ¡°Its superior conductivity and resistance to corrosion make it the optimal choice for ensuring longevity and reliability of the tech.¡±


    Gold. The word echoed in my mind like the tolling of a bell, each ring a reminder of the resource''s scarcity and value.


    ¡°Gold?¡± I echoed, incredulous. ¡°CD, you do realize gold is not exactly in abundant supply around here. It''s rare... and expensive.¡±


    CD''s hologram bristled.


    ¡°Your primitive economic constraints hold no value to me. Do you know where gold is? Go get it. Compromising on quality is not an option. The goal is to surpass, not emulate, the bang-on-rocks technology of this age.¡±


    I sighed.


    ¡°There has to be another conductive material we can use. What about copper? It''s still highly conductive and far more accessible than gold.¡±


    CD stared, his emulated mouth wide open, and pearly white teeth gleaming.


    ¡°Copper, while adequate, is inferior to gold in every way that matters for this project. I refuse to compromise the integrity and superiority of our technology. It must be gold.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m back!¡± Elli called, waltzing back into the room with the sway of the newly-relieved. ¡°I heard some of what you two were saying too. Gold? Pah. You might as well tell us you need stardust. Is there anything else at all that we could get you that would work for this TUNI system?¡±


    ¡°Something else? I am working with such backward, resource-stricken tribals that gold doesn¡¯t exist? I find you humans to be quite vexing.¡±


    CD''s hologram flickered, lines of analytical scanning springing forth from his body to search every nook and cranny of the shop before stopping on my crumpled cloak lying in a mess at the foot of the bed. He leaned forward and pointed, a large shit-eating grin on his face.


    ¡°My cloak? How in the Boiler¡¯s Oven would that help you make your tech? He¡¯s messing with us, Elli.¡±


    ¡°No, you yeti. The clasp of your cloak is pure silver, and a sizable amount of it as well. With the proper reforging into a sheet, we can make all of the components necessary to put TUNI into a prime, if not appropriately technological, state of being. I need you both to melt it down and reform it at once.¡±


    Elli stared at me, shock written over her face. She knew that the wolf clasp was as special as the shirt and the cloak itself, a piece of my father, and something that may have even been within my family line for generations.


    I instinctively reached out to the pile, picking it up, and touching the clasp, feeling the cool metal under my fingertips.


    ¡°So, uh, gold you were saying?¡±


    Elli frowned.


    ¡°No, really not a choice. Unless you want to fight all the knights of Alnda.¡±


    ¡°Ooh, can we?¡± CD asked, his face a rictus of delight.


    ¡°No. Look, Al, if we are serious about this, we¡¯re going to have to make some sacrifices. And that includes, apparently, family heirlooms.¡±


    CD''s digital form leaned closer.


    ¡°Besides being pointless, this heirloom isn¡¯t just any piece of metal. That clasp contains the precise alloy composition and artisanal craftsmanship necessary for the TUNI system''s interface module. Its conductive properties are unmatched by anything else within this primitive workshop.¡±


    I looked at them, then ripped the clasp away from the fabric with a rending sound that made Elli wince. Her eyes were sympathetic as I set it into her hands and turned away from them.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get changed and ready for work. Elli, you should go do the same at your shop and then meet us in the workroom. We¡¯ll get the clasp refashioned and done, no worries. And when we¡¯re rich, I¡¯ll just yank the silver back out and get it refashioned into another clasp.¡±


    ¡°Your fabric¡ª¡± Eli started.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I cut her off, stuffing my feelings down. ¡°I¡¯ll store that away and get that fixed, too. No sweat.¡±


    Even as I spoke, I pulled my shirt off and tossed it in the corner.


    ¡°Seriously, just go get changed, Elli. This is all going to end up being worth it. I promise.¡±


    The door cracked open and shut behind me as I went through and stacked my night¡¯s fineries into a bin for a good washing later. Throwing on a simple shirt and pair of breeches, I put on mechanics overalls over that and checked myself in the mirror, before walking into the workroom.


    Elli burst back in through the front door a second later, and I found myself briefly thinking back to her sky-blue gown from the night before. It was strange but, honestly, she looked good no matter what she wore. Even it was a pair of constantly washed threadbare overalls covered with oil stains and grime that refused to leave the garment.


    Her hair was an untamed tangle, almost certainly tied up in knots, and I had to respect the enthusiasm she was showing in wrecking my clasp and getting this new TUNI device up and running.


    ¡°How did you get changed so fast?¡± I asked, rather surprised at her sudden appearance.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t take too long when you¡¯re just looking to get dirty,¡± she replied. ¡°How are you just done now?¡±


    ¡°He saw his reflection and spent a good minute preening and picking fleas from his mane,¡± CD replied. ¡°I believe it is a customary ritual among primates before meeting potential mates.¡±


    I grinned, despite the small pang of loss growing in my stomach. ¡°We can re-machine that silver back into the clasp, right? When this is all done and we are rich?¡±


    CD nodded.


    ¡°When you are emperor over the rest of the simians, you can do whatever you want.¡±


    In the muted light of the workshop, the task of transforming my father¡¯s silver wolf clasp into the lifeblood of TUNI began. Elli and I stood before the shop forge, listening to it cycle up, the coils under it all humming to life softly.


    Elli shot me a concerned look and I nodded, letting her know it was all okay. Taking the silver wolf in her strong hands, she held onto it, watching the mid-tech device¡¯s glow grow stronger and stronger until it illuminated the entirety of the shop in its warm, orange hue. She let the clasp drop, clicked a switch, and all three of us stood back to let the machine do its work.


    The forge whirred and clicked, Frankensteinian gears composed of old-tech and new whirring and crackling. A nearby printer ground and cranked, spitting out a compositional readout of the metal and the current conditions of the forge. As we watched, flames kissed the bottom of the crucible, the silver within now looking wet and infirm.


    It wasn¡¯t long before the clasp surrendered to the heat, melting into a shimmering pool of liquid silver. I grabbed the readouts, scanned the numbers, and moved in, clacking a series of toggle switches and manipulating the controls to ensure an even heat. I felt sweat bead on my face, and Elli dabbed at it with a cloth before stepping back to stand next to CD, who was watching the whole process with apparently great interest.


    Once it was fully liquefied, I cranked a lever and typed a code into the rune pad at its side. In turn, the forge cupped the molten silver and turned, pouring it carefully into a flat, rectangular mold I owned specifically for this purpose. The liquid silver hissed as it met the cool air, solidifying into a thin sheet.


    ¡°Manual labor is so much fun to watch. Will the monkey lose a finger? Will the hair on his arm catch aflame? How wonderful this whole thing is!¡± CD exclaimed.


    ¡°Har, har,¡± I replied. ¡°It isn¡¯t over yet. Elli, wanna prep the machining station?¡±


    Elli hurried over to the cutting and grinding table, clicking toggles and tabs, while I carefully moved the sheet over and set it into the machining tray. Once in place, the cutter clattered, cranked, then hummed to life. As the tray moved through the machine, rolling smoothly along a rubber thread, there came the sharp clink and slap of blades, all perfectly positioned assuming Elli¡¯s calibration was on target. There was a flash of light as a smattering of lasers coursed over the work, detailing smaller cuts over the surface. Thin wisps of steam and smoke rolled out of a small chimney spout at the top corner of the machine, rolling lazily in a corkscrew stretching out to the ceiling above.


    When the last of the silver was machined, cut, detailed, and bound, the machine released the tray and displayed to us the most important component of TUNI.


    It was time to get dirty and build the thing. I sincerely hoped it would do as advertised, or CD would never see the sun again.

 Chapter 19

    Putting together the TUNI wasn¡¯t so hard under CD¡¯s supervision. The wiring was rather straightforward, and the bits that Elli and I didn¡¯t understand were easily situated into their positions within the large plasti-steel box that was to serve as our ¡®comms server¡¯, whatever that exactly meant. It had its own sets of toggle switches and a keypad when we were finished with it, as well as a solar strip that we tore from an old calculation device and slotted to TUNI¡¯s side as a power plant.


    The moment we powered it on, the air in the workshop seemed to change, charged with the hum of something new, something alive. Elli and I exchanged a glance. This tech felt even older than old-tech. It was hard to explain, but there weren¡¯t many techs that made themselves physically known when turned on.


    ¡°Is that going to give us away?¡± I asked, rubbing my hand over the raised hairs on my arms and getting a little shock. ¡°It feels like witchery. Surely people are going to notice that something¡¯s off when they all start getting electrocuted?¡±


    CD shook his head.


    ¡°Congratulations, you''ve managed to follow basic instructions while simultaneously lowering my estimation of your intellectual worth. Its powerup sent out a blast of electromagnetic waves, but now that it is running, such phenomena will subside. Still, though the operational startup and expected running parameters are within the norm, it is time to see if your creation is more than a glorified paperweight.¡±


    Ignoring CD''s jab, Elli and I focused on the server. The keypad was more complicated than we were used to¡­ a rectangle full of old tech runes and digits. Attached to it was a foldable view screen on which a green cursor blinked expectantly, waiting for input. It was overwhelming, looking at this device from some other time, sitting in front of us and put together by our own hands.


    I shared a look with Elli.


    ¡°We, uh, CD, we really don¡¯t know what to do next,¡± she said, taking one for the team.


    We hadn¡¯t planned this far ahead, not even knowing what TUNI would look like when completed, let alone what to expect once the server was operational.


    ¡°So what do we do now?¡± Elli asked, her voice a mix of anticipation and nervousness.


    A mass of lines shot out from CD¡¯s hologram, painting a blue box on the shop wall, filled with old tech words.


    ¡°This is a user¡¯s manual for the device. Try out some commands to familiarize yourself with the system. I suggest you do not try to make the device order bananas, fire, or hides. It is not magic.¡±


    ¡°But you said¡ª¡± I started, grinning, but his annoyed eyes stopped any further jabs. I shrugged, looking back to the softly glowing screen. ¡°Can you translate that into modern tongue? I¡¯m all for playing with this thing, but it might be nice to know what I¡¯m typing instead of having to learn an entirely different language to run this thing.¡±


    CD nodded.


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    The blue box expanded, recognizable words appearing next to the old tech ones. I scanned through the list, quickly finding and inputting the ¡®TESTING MODE¡¯ command, then stepping back to see what would happen. Elli reached out her hand, grabbing my own and squeezing it firmly. The server hummed louder, lights flickering as it processed the input.


    Suddenly, the room was filled with a series of beeps and the sound of something whirring to life. The server''s screen filled with runes, displaying lines of code that scrolled faster than I could read. CD floated closer, its holographic form flickering.


    ¡°This bodes well. It would seem that the two of you haven¡¯t wasted our time and created a giant rock with which to club your enemies. Marvelous,¡± CD remarked. ¡°The TUNI system is operational. Now the real work begins.¡±


    Elli giggled and grabbed me in a full-on bear hug, squeezing me hard.


    ¡°We did it, Al,¡± she whispered, a smile breaking through her earlier apprehension. ¡°We actually reinvented old-tech.¡±


    CD gave us a rare smile.


    ¡°This is just the beginning. You apes haven¡¯t even experienced what it can do yet. It is time to start the chipping procedures.¡±


    We headed over to another worktable, this one full of bits of scrapped plastics, crystal residue, and silver shavings. In the center of it lay the chips we¡¯d pressed, incredibly peculiar trapezoids made of tiny silver circuitry, boneshine, and wiring that looked both awe-inspiring and terrifying.


    ¡±The chips should be functional. The monster crystal has hardened appreciably, and scans indicate a 95% chance that they will be accepted by your bio-processes without any signs of immune-suppressive response,¡± CD informed us, as I picked one up and turned it over in my hand.


    ¡°So, for this to work, we just put the chips in our ears and we can all talk to each other?¡± I asked.


    CD chuckled.


    ¡°Oh, never did I know I could feel such sorrow over the fall of such a formidable enemy. No, we will use an implantation tool, such as those that your soldiers use to gain their powers. I suggest injection into the part of your shoulder near the nape of your neck, though it could also function if implanted into any aspect of your nervous system. The boneshine aspects will extend tendrils into your spine, thereby allowing your own bodies to broadcast and receive transmissions over long distances.¡±


    Elli opened her mouth wide.


    ¡°Do you mean we will be psychic? Like, we can shoot each other dirty thoughts. Maybe even nude images?¡±


    Her eyes lit up on me as she finished her question, and I felt myself flush slightly.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°No, horny ape. You will still have to speak out loud. Just all of us connected to the TUNI network, while within its broadcasting range of 100 kilometers, will be able to hear and respond.¡±


    I looked down again at the marvel of it. The components that made it work were so small, an absolute masterpiece of engineering. Yet it could traverse the laws of physics and allow us all to talk and converse from unthinkable distances.


    This was going to be awesome.


    ¡°Think of them as a monster core upgrade for your mind,¡± CD said. ¡°With these, you''re not just human. You''re essentially a network.¡±


    Elli went over to a cupboard, rooting around noisily until pulling out an old and dusty implantation device. We¡¯d gotten it from the black market some time back and promptly forgot about it since we didn¡¯t actually know how the soldiers and nobles cored their own bodies. When she set it down next to the chips, a line of dusty webbing sailed off it, fluttering off the edge of the table and to the floor.


    ¡°That will not do, simians. The device will require a good cleaning, or else there will be a risk of infection.¡±


    I peered at the device pointedly.


    ¡°Are you saying that there is a chance that this will kill us?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Only if you let your ape brains run the show,¡± CD shot back. ¡°Get rid of the dirt. Soak the implanting tips with hard alcohol. Then, and only then, do you implant the chips.¡±


    We moved ahead, following his instructions, wiping away the dirt and grime before soaking it in alcohol. When CD noted that everything was at the ready, I took off my shirt and Elli did the same, smirking as my eyes and pupils widened.


    ¡°Do me first,¡± I said, turning away and showing her my back.


    ¡°Any chance that was innuendo?¡± Elli asked.


    ¡°It is getting late, and I would like to test the efficacy of the chips before apes mate and make smaller apes,¡± CD chided. ¡°Implant the chip and you can get back to your mating rituals.¡±


    Elli took hold of the cleaned device, popping the chip into a slot in the top before pulling back a lever on its side. Now at the ready, she slid up behind me and whispered into my ear.


    ¡°Stay still, Al. It¡¯ll be over in a second.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I bet you say that to all the boys,¡± I retorted.


    She chuckled, and I jumped slightly as I felt her press the machine against my skin. It was room temperature, but in my mind, a cold, electric anticipation coursed through me. I could smell the tang of the alcohol we had used to clean the device, and it revved up the feeling that CD was full of shit and that this was going to hurt.


    A lot.


    I heard a sound best described as ¡®choompf¡¯, a sharp burn like that of an ember lighting on my skin, then a strange tickling as the chip''s tendrils wormed their way through my skin to reach my spinal column. It didn¡¯t feel right, but the burn was already gone before it could really set in, and moments later, the squirming stopped.


    ¡°How was it?¡± Elli asked.


    I opened up my mouth to answer, then felt it hammer shut as electricity coursed through my body, throwing me backward onto the floor where I went ramrod straight, every muscle Charlie-horsing in the hardest manner possible.


    Elli¡¯s words became panicked and garbled while my vision went blurry.


    Had that bastard CD tricked me? Panic swam up my throat in the form of bile that burned at the back of my throat.


    All at once, my muscles relaxed, and I rolled to my side, spitting and coughing. A rush of newfound clarity flooded my senses, and everything suddenly made so much more sense. I shot my eyes up to Elli, her bosom heaving as she sobbed over me, screaming for me to be okay, and I reached out a hand to still her.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I choked. ¡°I¡¯m fine. It works.¡±


    ¡°Does it?¡± CD asked, staring down at me, those same words echoing somewhere deep in my mind. A quick burst of thought told me that he didn¡¯t actually have to do that; that he was just the electronic cylinder and that this hologram was a construction of light placed there for our comfort.


    ¡°Yeah, I think so. Talk again. I thought I heard your words inside me as well as outside.¡±


    ¡°The experiment has been a success. I congratulate you on your rise from simian to barbarian. Well done, Alaric.¡±


    The words echoed inside me, and I nodded, grabbing Elli¡¯s proffered hand and getting to my feet. I looked her over, seeing the tears still glistening on her cheeks, and I rubbed them off with my fingers.


    ¡°It¡¯s a hard start, but it works well, Elli. And, I¡¯m not sure, but I think it made me smarter?¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± CD confirmed. ¡°To be honest, that wasn¡¯t hard to do.¡±


    We repeated the procedure, this time with myself implanting the chip into Elli and holding her hand tightly as her mind and the chip formed their connection. After she recovered, we sat for a moment, dumbfounded by the constant echoes of our words in our minds.


    ¡°Is there any way to stop this thing from echoing?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Or to get it to read people''s most inner carnal thoughts?¡± Elli asked.


    CD turned to the blue box, eliminating a great deal of it until he found the command Listening Distance parameters ¨C All. A new light shot out, showing a symbol that translated roughly as ¡°Outside of organic listening range¡± and Elli went to work finding the keys and typing the command in.


    With a push of the input button, the echo was gone.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s a relief,¡± I noted, walking over to the TUNI unit. A quick glimpse at the shape and size of its box and peripherals told me that I could move the whole system under my bed. I picked it all up in one heap, moving it to my room. As I bent to put it under my mattress, Elli stopped me.


    ¡°Not a good place, Al. Just in case, uh, you know, the bed gets all shaky or something.¡±


    ¡°Barbarian impulses are indeed too unpredictable. It would be illogical to risk such a vital device to your possible nocturnal activities,¡± CD agreed.


    Scoping the room, we decided to wedge it into one corner and drape it over with the ripped fabric of my torn cloak. It actually looked rather artistic when we were finished and stuck out as decoration rather than as some illegal old tech device that we¡¯d built and were now about to set upon the world.


    ¡°Now that that¡¯s done, care to take this thing for a spin?¡± Elli asked, raising a single eyebrow.


    ¡°Don¡¯t mind if we do,¡± I replied with a wink.


    We stepped into a day well darkened into evening, giggling like children as we jogged in opposite directions over the cracked old-tech and cobblestone fillings.


    ¡°Can you hear me?¡± Elli asked, now out of sight and almost certainly over the neighborhood hill.


    ¡°Yeah, I gotcha!¡± I replied.


    ¡°Good. Now I¡¯ll be able to pester you whenever I want to,¡± she said jokingly.


    We spread further, testing the range of the TUNI. My first stop was the bustling marketplace in the central district, where the cacophony of vendors and the aroma of street food usually overwhelmed the senses. There I tried to think of the smells around me and send them to her.


    ¡°Barbar, this is a communications device,¡± CD scolded. ¡°Thoughts and concepts cannot be sent. At least not yet,¡± he added, words that made my new and enlightened mind tingle in anticipation of the next great technological hurdle.


    As the night deepened, we found ourselves on opposite sides of the city, sending messages with no problems at all. It was at this point that Elli came up with an interesting test of the system.


    ¡°It¡¯s hide and seek, but I¡¯ve got to describe to you where I¡¯m at every five minutes. Catch me if you can!¡± she said, sounding excited even over the TUNI.


    I launched myself into the chase, jogging through old-tech, middle-tech, and new-tech districts, under sputtering lights of electricity, often broken and jury-rigged to burn monster gas. It was a game of talk tag, and though it took much of the night, I finally cornered her near the main gate. She smiled and skipped to me when I called her name, and we headed back to my shop, exhausted but delighted.


    Entering the door, we saw CD standing there, waiting for our return.


    ¡°Sleep, barbarians. With TUNI up and running, I can be your ops manager. Tomorrow my words can lead you out of the city and into the battlefield without incident. And then the start of your ascension will truly begin.¡±

 Chapter 20

    Elli left and I went to bed with my head filled with high dreams and very unpeasant-like hopes. Everything was finally going right, I¡¯d have a surname again, just like my parents before they died. I¡¯d tons of creds and even open a guild of my own.


    All of us, together, were going to start a new era for the city. Just after the next night¡¯s trip to the old mech battlefield, and the collection of the treasures buried within.


    They were happy thoughts to dream about.


    In the morning, I got out of bed, throwing my sheets to the floor and pulling on a pair of shorts. Humming, I rolled out of my small sleeping chamber and into my pantry, grabbing some bread, cheese, and a piece of cured lamb. I sliced the bread and cheese, arranging them onto a wooden plate alongside the meat. Adding an apple from the basket on the counter, I grabbed my water pitcher, emptying its last drops into a clay cup.


    Taking a seat at one of my work benches, I set it all up in front of me and scanned the room for any sign of anything illegal or troublesome.


    Everything was looking good.


    Smiling, I unhooked and opened a nearby shutter, letting the light of the morning spill over my small spot by the window. And by doing that, I laid my eyes on an ogre-like goon that started banging on my door. Behind him stood two others, thinner and lankier fellows but standing in a martial manner. Short swords were sheathed at their sides. They turned to face me as the clatter of my actions alerted them to my presence.


    All of them were wearing guild badges, and I sighed. Narrowing my eyes, I noted the crossed pickaxe and sword of scavenger enforcers and I sighed again.


    Guild enforcers.


    The three men stepped onto my sparse dirt lawn and made their way to my window to confront me face to face. The hulking figure, the man who''d been pounding on my door, led the way. He stared hard into my eyes without blinking as he stopped just a step away from my face.


    I stared back, doing my best to show no fear despite the hard beat of my heart. Guys like him would eat me alive if I ever acted like a chicken.


    We stared at each other for a good minute before one of the lankier ones put a hand on his shoulder. He turned and I snickered, prompting him to look back at me with a rising scarlet blush over his face.


    ¡°I win,¡± I whispered, giving him a little wave, while simultaneously feeling my fear drain away. The worst of it was over. Now that they knew I wouldn¡¯t wilt like a daisy on hot concrete, the actual discussion could begin.


    The lankier and presumably more intelligent one took his place, a friendly face despite the faded crescent of a stab wound gracing his right cheek. He glanced at me, then at the food on my workbench.


    ¡°Sorry to have to bother you during your mornin¡¯ sup, but I bin sent to talk to one Alaric, a serf scavenger who I hear is lucky enough to run his own shop?¡±


    His eyes were sharp and assessing, despite the lazy drawl and happy nice-to-meet-you smile. I nodded, taking a slow-motion bite out of my apple.


    He glanced back at his companions.


    ¡°We have been sent here to talk about the matter of unsanctioned manufacturing. Seems someone saw a transaction in these parts, a few days back at most, dealing with a mech hand that was unquestionably tinkered and altered.¡±


    I set my apple down.


    ¡°I¡¯m well within my credited rights to do repair work. I already paid my work dues to the manufacturing guild and signed the independent labor tithe to Scavenger Master Boyerman. There¡¯s no devilry here, Enforcer--¡±


    ¡°Enforcer Radulf,¡± he answered. ¡°Now, see here, the problem isn¡¯t anything to do with your authorized work. It has to do with your unauthorized work. Word has been told that your work was quite obviously of the latter. Too good to be a straight fix. In fact, the word that was said was amazing, along with other words like newly wrought and master tier. Now, all that, that¡¯s a different beast altogether.¡±


    I frowned, my mind whirring in thought. The mech hands had been too good, obviously. Too changed, and now their eyes were on me. I¡¯d have to think of something fast, or guys like this would be looking over my shoulder for the next decade and all of our plans with CD would be effectively over.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    ¡°Enforcer Radulf, I understand your concerns,¡± I said, keeping my voice steady. ¡°Honestly, I had some help, is all. A friend of mine is an engineer and a good one at that. In fact, she¡¯s even done some one-on-one mech work for some of the knights. I fixed the hands then she added improvements.¡±


    I paused, watching their reactions carefully.


    ¡°If you¡¯re still not convinced, perhaps there¡¯s something I can do to make this right. I¡¯d hate for there to be any misunderstanding or trouble.¡±


    Radulf narrowed his eyes, but it was obvious that he was considering my words.


    ¡°Is she licensed to innovate?¡± he asked.


    I swallowed hard. They¡¯d be asking me for a name soon enough, and I didn¡¯t want to get Elli roped into whatever this all was.


    ¡°Listen, it seems clear to me that Master Boyerman sent you. We all know that side work usually gets overlooked. Including improvements. I¡¯m guessing we did too good a job and now he wants something from me.¡±


    Radulf chuckled.


    ¡°Something like that. You and your friend, you can keep on innovating, but you sell through him from now on.¡±


    I felt heat rise to my cheeks, and ice formed inside my chest.


    ¡°How much are we talking?¡±


    ¡°Ten percent.¡±


    Closing my eyes, I nodded. There wasn¡¯t any use in asking who¡¯d be getting the ten percent cut. Just like there was no use in trying to bargain, or in flat-out saying no.


    This wasn¡¯t an offer. It was an order.


    I opened my eyes and took another bite of my apple.


    ¡°The improvements required outside scavenge. Anyway, I can get a vault license to find some good parts, and maybe edge up the quality of the merch. I¡¯d love to make enough to keep affording quality breakfasts.¡±


    Radulf looked over my face and smirked.


    ¡°You¡¯re a big fit guy. Maybe you should get into enforcement, cuz that right there ain¡¯t no feast. Look, I¡¯ll pass it on to Master Boyerman. I¡¯m guessing he¡¯ll give you some leeway. It¡¯s more cred in his coffer, right?¡± He leaned closer, over my window ledge, his nose right up to my own. ¡°Just don¡¯t fuck around,¡± he said in a menacing whisper. ¡°Got it? Boyerman ain¡¯t happy that you tried to pull a fast one on him. And he¡¯s always watching. I know we just met, but I like you. I¡¯ll see if I can¡¯t get you that vault license fast, and get you moving back into his graces. ¡®Cuz I¡¯d hate to have to trash your workshop and break your legs.¡±


    He leaned back. The big enforcer smashed a hand into his fist, staring at me again but this time with a huge, gotcha grin on his face, while the other one just looked bored. I nodded, my mind still spinning chaotically as I tried to process it all.


    ¡°Yes, Enforcer Radulf. Understood. Thank you.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t thank me, Alaric. Thank Master Boyerman. He¡¯s the one giving you this grand opportunity.¡±


    I started to laugh but caught the suddenly stern and expectant look on Radulf¡¯s face. This was obviously another order.


    ¡°Thank Master Boyerman for this opportunity. I look forward to our partnership.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll let him know you said that. Except for the partnership part. You¡¯re a serf; he won¡¯t take kindly to that. Just do your dues, Alaric. I¡¯ll see you around.¡±


    With that, he raised his hand, his pointer finger extended, and twirled it in a circle. The three of them turned and left, leaving me to stare at my food, my face suddenly burning in a rash of anxiety and frustration.


    That was the thing about Alnda. Once you were down, you were never allowed to rise again. I balled up my right hand and smashed at my work bench, one, two, then three times, feeling the sting of it swarm through the meaty part of my hand.


    Standing up, I grabbed my shutters and yanked them shut, their closure booming through the confines of my shop.


    ¡°Fuuuck!¡± I yelled at the ceiling.


    I noticed that my half-eaten apple had fallen to the floor, and I booted it across the workspace, just in time to see it pass through the flickering image of CD, now a bearded man wearing a tunic that sported the exact same badge of the scavenger enforcers.


    ¡°CD, you heard all that?¡± I asked, my voice shaky with anger.


    ¡°Indeed. It would seem that the master ape wishes for more fruit and beetles for his dining pleasure. Would it not have been beneficial to have killed these three, in order to prepare for war with this Boyerman warlord?¡±


    I stared at him, watching him cock his head quizzically to the side that was just a bit too alien, and barked an angry laugh.


    ¡°Not a warlord, but he might as well be. He¡¯s got legal backing. He, well, he owns me. As much as someone can be owned anyways. I was hoping to buy my freedom from him, but this deal, it¡¯ll keep me under his thumb forever. How are we supposed to move and sell anything good if he gets to keep all the profit?¡±


    CD nodded.


    ¡°There are usually workarounds. Tell me more about this vault license.¡±


    ¡°It gives me salvage rights to any vaults that I might find and removes the serf bracer requirement for any vault expeditions I file for from the Scavenger¡¯s Guild. It also puts me on a list so that I can pick and choose missions when they become available. It¡¯s a good deal for most scavengers, but for me, it¡¯ll all have to get put into new fancy bullshit that the guild will now sell for a ton of money and leave me with peanuts.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes, peanuts. Truly the currency of apes. I understand, and I think I have a solution for our current dilemma.¡±


    I stared at him, expectant. After a minute of silence, I let out an exasperated sigh.


    ¡°And that is?¡±


    ¡°Oh, isn¡¯t it obvious? We will scrap the battlefield for later, and instead take a vault mission. We will find tech, wield it into something irresistible, send it to this master scavenger, and then boom, problem solved.¡±


    I sat down, the whole thing playing through my head, and began to laugh. Yeah, that could work. I laughed harder, imagining pieces of him launching in every direction. Yeah, that¡¯d definitely do.


    <h2> </h2>

 Chapter 21

    There wasn¡¯t much to do until the paperwork was sorted and I got word back from the guild master, so I sat back down and finished my breakfast. It didn¡¯t taste as good as it had, but I had a feeling that one particular breakfast in the future was going to make up for that.


    Finishing off the cheese, I stood and went about my normal morning rituals, leaving the shop to refill my water from the local pump and waving to my neighbors as I walked the broken cobble to and fro.


    All the while, my head was spinning, full of plans for the future. I¡¯d have to modify the workshop and make some hidey holes in which to keep the stuff that was too good to give up to the guild. The mech hand order would have to be finished, just to show Boyerman that I was playing ball. And Elli would have to be brought into the loop. After all, there was a chance she¡¯d get roped in regardless of what I did at this point. It wouldn¡¯t take much observation or asking around for the enforcers to peg her as the engineer I¡¯d been talking about.


    Then we¡¯d get the license and go exploring. We¡¯d have access to scavenge sites that had already been picked over a few times, assuming Boyerman approved the mission requests, and any new sites we found we¡¯d be able to dig through on first rights.


    On paper anyways. The guild master was an asshole, and quite a few of the nobles were as well. I¡¯d heard many stories about top finds being requisitioned by the state, or by the serf holder. Wouldn¡¯t expect it to go any other way, but a man could dream.


    When I got back, CD and I worked on creating the farmer¡¯s gauntlets, a process that was much easier and faster now that I knew what I was doing. And by the time Elli came around, they were finished and ready for delivery.


    I¡¯d just put everything away when she knocked, the sound of it making me jump out of my skin. I wheezed as CD cackled, and thoughtlessly reached out to grab his hand when he reached it out as if to help me.


    ¡°Haha, very funny,¡± I growled, my breath coming back to me.


    I got up off the floor and peeked out my shutters, seeing Elli standing there in her greasy overalled glory. She caught my motion out of the corner of her eye and gave me a wink.


    ¡°You gonna let me in, Al? Or am I going to have to get physical?¡±


    She slapped one gloved hand into the other, grinning toothily.


    I chuckled.


    ¡°Yeah, just a sec.¡±


    Locking the shutters back tight, I opened the door and gestured her in, securing the door behind her.


    ¡°Woah, you¡¯ve had a busy morning!¡± she exclaimed, looking over the piles of large mech hands that dominated one side of the shop. ¡°Glad I missed the extra work.¡±


    I stuck out my tongue, and she playfully made as if to bite it. Giggling, I put my hand in front of my face as a shield.


    ¡°Childish apes, now that we are together, isn¡¯t it time that we begin scheming?¡± CD said, his voice laced with a hint of excitement.


    He¡¯d changed form again, this time inhabiting the skin of some old grandfather dressed in an overly large shirt and pants that clearly were meant for someone much thicker and stronger.


    I raised an eyebrow, but he either didn¡¯t notice, or didn¡¯t care to explain.


    ¡°Scheming what?¡± Elli asked. ¡°We already talked about the future if that¡¯s what you mean. Drunkenly, and in style.¡±


    She smiled as she said it, but seeing the more serious look on my face, she pulled back as if afraid the news would hit her.


    ¡°What am I missing?¡± she asked.


    ¡°The guild paid us a visit today,¡± I informed her, ¡°And now expect me to do improvement work for them on 10% commission. Apparently, someone saw the new farmer gauntlets and squealed.¡±


    She took a seat and gestured for me to sit in her lap, which I ignored. Instead, I sat next to her and began to lay out everything that happened before diving into CD¡¯s plan, and everything I¡¯d thought of this morning on my way to and from the pump.


    When I finished, I could see the worry in her eyes, a small shimmer of extra wetness on their lenses. She reached out a hand and I took it.


    ¡°Good things are heard, Al. They¡¯re never give-it-to-me easy unless you¡¯re a golden crib baby for the rich. And even they have to bow to the Duke or the King. Good news is, you¡¯ve got me and I¡¯ve got a good brain in my head.¡±


    ¡°Do you?¡± CD asked.


    He waved a hand at the wall, and screens began to flip on, showing his search through the Coming of Age Testing Records.


    NAME, AGE, AND GRADE: Ellinor Nedare, 25, Free Woman


    BACKGROUND: Uptown Child born to accredited engineers.


    SOCIETAL ROLES: Accredited Engineer, Shop Owner, Licensed Scavenger


    WISDOM-ranked Attributes (As Scored by Officiate Mora Goddington Wils, Coming of Age year 27 of King William Karlington II):


    WIT: 9 - Ellinor¡¯s intelligence is reflected in her ability to innovate and improve mechanical designs, solving complex engineering problems with creativity.


    INSIGHT: 8 - Her perceptive nature allows her to excel in scavenging, easily spotting useful components, and foreseeing mechanical failures before they occur.


    SPEED: 9 - Ellinor is adept at parkour, which enhances her ability to maneuver through challenging environments quickly and efficiently.


    DEXTERITY: 8 ¨C Ellinor¡¯s fine motor skills and manual dexterity were on tremendous display during the wiring, disassembly, and assembly portions of the test.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    POWER: 5 ¨C She is strong for her gender, and comparable to many non-combat males as she demonstrated during her strength trials.


    MAGNETISM: 5 ¨C Ellinor has a reputation for being foul-mouthed, vulgar, and crude. Her status as a free woman engineer and merchant grant her respect, but her bizarre behavior lowers this ranking significantly. A woman of her stature should obey societal rules, not break them.


    PRIMARY TESTED SKILLS:


    ADVANCED MECH ENGINEER: Expert in designing, repairing, and innovating mechs and mechanical systems.


    SCAVENGING AND SALVAGING: Proficient in reclaiming usable parts and materials from abandoned tech and monster remains


    TACTICAL MOVEMENT: There is no doubt in my mind that she was trained in using her agility and parkour skills to navigate and escape from dangerous situations. It is likely that, were she given a military posting, she would succeed quite well. However, when I discussed this possibility with her, she declined, noting that soldiers are stick-in-their-ass peons who don¡¯t know their elbows from their armpits.


    We both read through the report, and I laughed hard when I got to the end.


    ¡°Go get ¡®em, Elli,¡± I said, and she punched my shoulder, laughing as well.


    ¡°This is amazing, CD. Can you get anyone¡¯s record?¡±


    ¡°I have noticed various levels of encryption on higher-level candidates, but yes, given the proper decryption devices, I could easily do this for anyone in the local database.¡±


    Elli let out a high whistle.


    ¡°That might be something we can capitalize on.¡±


    ¡°Indeed. Also note that previous non-TUNI ape brain numbers have almost certainly improved, taking your above-average intelligence almost certainly into the genius range, though well below that of any Toran infant, or the likely monster-core enhanced academics of your local scholar class.¡±


    Elli scowled.


    ¡°What you''re saying is I¡¯m dumb by your standards, and just good enough to get by?¡±


    ¡°Your words, not mine,¡± CD countered.


    She shook your head.


    ¡°Not a problem. We¡¯ll just get that fixed like how Al fixed his flabby, no-muscle piss-poor body. Hey!¡± she suddenly exclaimed, her eyes widening. ¡°Maybe we can find some brain enhancement mutagen out in the salvage areas?¡±


    ¡°Definitely possible,¡± I said with a wink. ¡°But I don¡¯t think mutagen is exactly common. Or safe. Let¡¯s just keep that as a secondary quest. We¡¯ve got a little time to wait here while Boyerman sorts his reply. How about we upgrade the shop, and start making hidden compartments? I¡¯m pretty sure they¡¯ll have people over to go through everything. What if they find CD? He¡¯ll be cut into tiny pieces and then--¡±


    ¡°Not going to happen! Get to it, go, go, and go!¡±


    Elli and I smiled and got up, gathering tools as CD scanned the shop, green lines rolling over every nook and cranny. His holographic form flickered beside us, now resembling a man of the night, dark leather and night camouflage rubbed over his face. A devilish little mustache clung to his upper lip.


    ¡°Really?¡± I asked.


    CD ignored me, and instead pointed towards my pantry.


    ¡°The earth isn¡¯t even beneath the deeper half of that chamber. It would be easy to raise the floorboards and dig a well-sized hole while pushing the extra dirt to the sides. With no leavings to dispose of, it makes for the ideal hiding place.¡±


    Elli stretched her arms above her head, the joints in her elbows popping audibly. Reaching to her overloaded tool belt, she pulled a mid-tech e-tool and unfolded it into a small black shovel.


    ¡°Alright, boys, let¡¯s get to it.¡±


    I followed along, a claw hammer in hand ready to torque loose the nails and planks. The other tools on my belt swayed and clanked together as I walked over to the panty.


    Elli and I reached the place at the same time, and we opened the door, scanning the cluttered space. I had stored a lot of cheap and resilient food here over time. Cheese wheels, hunks of rock-hard bread, salted and dried low-quality meats and fish; everything you could need if you wanted food in the morning and didn¡¯t care too much about what it tasted like.


    And now we were going to have to move it.


    I stepped within, hunching down and grabbing a basket of week-old apples, handing them up to Elli who in turn placed them next to the door. Moving forward, I started moving through the bread loaves, then the turnips.


    When all was finished, I moved to the dusty end of the pantry, looking for loose nails. A couple of the rusty heads stuck out, and I wedged the claw under them, levering them out and examining them in the palm of my hand. They were brittle and useless, well too aged, I decided, and I tossed them out onto the shop floor.


    ¡°You¡¯re gonna have to clean that up when you¡¯re done,¡± Elli scowled.


    I chuckled.


    ¡°Yeah, no doubt. Just don¡¯t go shoeless til we¡¯re done.¡±


    Next, levering the planks out of place, I was happy to see that they were still in good solid shape since having to replace them would be an obvious X marks the spot for any enforcers who decided to come and investigate. I set them against the wall, then peered into the hole beneath.


    It was like CD had said. There was a dip here, uneven silty ground. I pushed my pointer finger into it and felt hard clay a couple of centimeters within. It¡¯d be an easy job.


    ¡°Alright Lady Digger. Dig me a hole!¡± I said, stepping aside and throwing my arms out as if to present her with an amazing gift.


    ¡°Oh, Alaric, how did you know?¡± she asked, grinning and giving me a wink.


    As she walked past me, her hand slid around my hip and goosed me. I jumped slightly, taken totally by surprise.


    ¡°Oops,¡± she said coquettishly.


    I laughed.


    ¡°Alright, CD, while Elli¡¯s working on that, what else do you got for us?¡±


    CD crept past, low to the ground like a common cat burglar.


    ¡°Apes may be watching. We must be careful,¡± he said, motioning for me to follow.


    Not for the first time I wondered if maybe being stuck in the ground for too long hadn¡¯t crazed up some of his logic circuits. Nonetheless, I followed, and he led me to my word desk. It was a hefty oaken behemoth stuck against the wall, covered with half-assed drawings and designs, many of which I¡¯d never started, and half of which I¡¯d started but never finished. He pointed at it.


    ¡°This particular piece of furniture is very thick and quite capable of being hollowed out for smaller devices . . . and substances. I suggest cutting through the bottom and hollowing it out in these sections here and here,¡± CD said, pointing to the areas on which I was to work.


    I studied it briefly, then lay down, pulling a knife and a mini saw from my belt and getting to work.


    Wood dust sprinkled over my face and dropped into my mouth, but it was all good fun and soon I was past the initial thickness of the wood and into the softer, sweeter center. Working continuously, listening to the rhythmic hammering of Elli closing up the planks, and following under CD¡¯s tutelage, I soon had quite the inconspicuous hiding area.


    ¡°Hey, Al,¡± Elli called, coming out from the pantry and wiping sweat from her brow. ¡°Remember that time we tried to build a treehouse when we were kids?¡±


    I laughed, hammering a new plank into place to hide the hollowed-out space I¡¯d just created.


    ¡°How could I forget? We got halfway done before we realized we¡¯d built it in a tree full of hornet nests.¡±


    Elli snickered.


    ¡°Yeah, and you fell out of the tree trying to get away. Thought for sure you¡¯d broken your leg.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m happy to hear you didn¡¯t. Humans are frail and a broken leg would surely have impacted your Speed and possibly Dexterity,¡± CD chimed in.


    ¡°Thanks for the concern,¡± I replied, shaking my head. ¡°Let¡¯s hope this project turns out better.¡±


    After finishing both tasks, CD pointed out other minor aspects of the workshop that could be modified. He directed Elli to the studs in the wall and used his lines of light to mark out the dimensions for miniature hidden compartments. I¡¯d cut and gouge, then Elli would fill and finish, replacing the new sections with their old covering and hammering them all back into place.


    CD moved around the room, pointing out my shelves filled with technical manuals and diagrams and detailed instructions on how to install false backs into them, making sure they aligned perfectly with the cuts in the wall.


    Elli followed behind, attaching latch mechanisms and doing the tinier and more technical errata as CD explained, outlined, and diagrammed them to her.


    After a good while, we were finished. Elli lay back on one of the workbenches, letting out a long and satisfied yawn and stretching her legs and arms out like a turtle flipped on its back.


    ¡°This is going to work, Al. No one¡¯s ever going to find nothing here.¡±


    I nodded, looking around the place.


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s a good job of it. Still no visitors from the guild yet, though. Wonder what¡¯s taking them so long.¡±


    Just then, a heavy knocking sounded at the door, and the two of us jogged towards it while CD disappeared from sight. I unlocked it and opened it up a crack, to see Enforcer Radulf standing there holding a half-dozen scroll cases, and giving me his toothy smile.


    ¡°Good news, serf boy. You got your excavation license, and Boyerman¡¯s agreed to your terms. Time to sign some paperwork. Mind if I come in?¡±

 Chapter 22

    I stepped back to let him in, making sure to secure the door behind him while Elli stood off to the side, her arms crossed. She watched him with a gigantic frown on her face that just showed how welcome he was.


    I nodded, gesturing towards the workbench.


    ¡°Sit down, Enforcer Radulf. Make yourself comfortable.¡±


    Radulf sauntered as he walked, making a big show of his power as he casually surveyed the shop. His eyes lingered on the towering piles of mech hands, and he smirked.


    ¡°See you got down to business. Master Boyerman is going to like that.¡±


    Elli grumbled something and I moved to his side, gesturing for him to set the scroll cases down and get everything started.


    ¡°So, how¡¯d it go? Got more terms to go through? Extra demands for us to sign off on?¡± I asked, folding my arms.


    Radulf chuckled.


    ¡°Smart lad to know when you''ve got, boy. But there¡¯s nothing new here. As far as I can tell, Boyerman likes you. At least enough that he¡¯s not pushing any farther. Indeed, he was quite excited about the reverse-engineering aspect of your little operation. Using old tech to make new-tech masterpieces. So impressed that he not only approved your license, he even picked out a quest for you. A kinda welcome to the club sort of thing.¡±


    I stared, hesitant, a roiling bit of doubt burbling in my stomach.


    ¡°A quest?¡± I asked.


    Radulf stood up, rising up with a single scroll case in hand, its bottom situated as if it were the hilt of a sword.


    ¡°Yes! A grand and sanctioned quest! A pure and wonderful means of old tech resource extraction to give your new partnership the powerful start it needs to make waves in this city. Boyerman seems to expect a lot from this little operation, and so he¡¯s giving you a priority mission. One that had been slotted to a rising journeyman of the guild even! Imagine that!¡±


    I exchanged a glance with Elli, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing.


    ¡°And what exactly does this quest involve?¡± I asked, wary of any tricks.


    A sanctioned quest, right off the bat, with no petitioning or waiting involved just didn¡¯t feel right.


    Radulf leaned in, uncorking the case and pulling out the parchment from within.


    ¡°It¡¯s an armory, pre-fall. Teams found it in the ruins of a place that records say was called Chic-A-Go. There are pretty statues there if you are an art lover.¡±


    He was waltzing past the point deliberately, taunting me with the quest in a way that made me want to bust him in the nose.


    I growled and his smile widened.


    ¡°So, what¡¯s so special about it?¡± I asked.


    His eyes widened.


    ¡°About Chic-A-Go? Why, it was one of the great capitals of the ancients! There were songs and performers who took the name, so in awe were they of the place. It was the forger of great artifacts, the holders of something called the Deep Dish. Apparently an item so powerful that it was honored by food items made in its name. Have you never heard of it?¡±


    I frowned. The name was vaguely familiar, but more like something I¡¯d heard in passing.


    ¡°Can¡¯t say I have,¡± I responded, before turning to see Elli practically jumping out of her skin.


    ¡°That zone is forbidden!¡± she squeaked. ¡°Mutants, rad-zones, the works! No one but roving mechs allowed I thought!¡±


    ¡°Yes, without special dispensation,¡± Radulf said, nodding, spreading out the scrolls from the case.


    The first was a map, detailing where we were now, and the place that was Chic-A-Go. It was marked with skulls and crossbones, and the more detailed map underneath the travel map was chock full of hazardous curse marks and death traps.


    But it was also full of scavenge points. Places that had been scouted and pilfered, yes, but others that had simply been marked for further exploration. I noted in the legend that the quests here were for ¡®Level 10 or higher, special dispensation required¡¯ and my heart began to beat more quickly.


    ¡°Boyerman has a lot of faith in my capabilities it would seem,¡± I muttered, tracing the massive spread of the ruined city with my finger. I nearly swore when I saw the distance measurements ¨C it was more than a city. Size-wise, it was more like a nation.


    ¡°Take it as you will. He certainly has optimism in what you might be able to manufacture, given the right ingredients. It would seem that he has even procured permissions for a knightly escort. One Sir Alain Hembersworth. Says he cost a pretty cred. Which he will expect to be repaid upon return.¡±


    I grimaced, trying to imagine what it must have cost to hire one of the Duke¡¯s retainers on what was almost certainly a no-questions-asked backroom deal. It felt overwhelming.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°Can we keep any of the salvage for ourselves?¡± Elli asked. ¡°Or does it all have to go back into the sales operations.¡±


    Radulf shrugged.


    ¡°I guess that he wouldn¡¯t even notice if an item or two happened to fall into the cracks while you were making him some new merch. Just a hazard of the trade. Honestly, Chic-A-Go is a dangerous place from what I hear, but you¡¯ll have a mech knight with you, so it might not be so bad. It¡¯s definitely a better start than I¡¯d expected you to get. Go in, retrieve anything of value, and bring it back. Simple enough, right?¡±


    I snorted, thinking about the bunker that Techlock and I had knocked over.


    ¡°Simple, sure. Anything else we should know before we go?¡±


    Radulf¡¯s eyes gleamed with amusement.


    ¡°Not much else. Rads can be bad; the place was the site of some unholy battles, or so the legends say. Everything that lives there is dangerous. There are almost certainly other scavengers working for other bigwigs crawling through the place, so be careful of them. But, hey, mech knight. Sounds like you¡¯ll all have a fair chance to succeed.¡±


    Elli stepped forward, her eyes narrowing.


    ¡°Sounds kinda like a suicide mission.¡±


    Radulf shrugged again.


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t really tell you. Can say that he¡¯s excited. Seems to consider it a test. Prove your worth, and I imagine Boyerman will reward you quite handsomely.¡±


    I grimaced, thinking of my coming-of-age testing, and the notes at the end. He refused to let me have my freedom and move on to something better. I had no doubt all of this would work the same way.


    Still, we had TUNI now. Could work the place over, have CD piggybacking us on the network to help find the really good stuff, and to keep watch for the biggest dangers.


    I sighed, rubbing my temples.


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s see the details.¡±


    Radulf spread out the parchment sheets, letting us go through them at our leisure. Elli and I leaned over them, absorbing the details.


    Chicago Armory Salvage Quest #4BF7


    Objective: Retrieve valuable pre-fall technological salvage from Class 10 Chic-A-Go Armory.


    Location: Ruins of Chic-A-Go, identified by ancient records and scout reports.


    Coordinates: Latitude: 41.8781¡ã N, Longitude: 87.6298¡ã W


    Authorized Personnel: Alaric (Lead Scavenger), Elli (Engineer), Sir Alain Hembersworth (Knightly Escort)


    Timeline:


    Itinerary: One day of preparation.


    Fast travel is provided by Mech transport. Estimated ETA 3 days to reach Chic-A-Go ruins.


    Scavenging Operation time allotted: 4 days within the ruins.


    Expected Return Travel time: 3 days


    Estimated Time to Complete: 10-14 days total


    Mission Phases:


    Preparation: Provided Personal Gear


    Radiation Suits: One for each team member, complete with gloves, boots, and hooding.


    Protective Gear: Helmets, body armor


    Weapons:


    Melee: Short swords, knives


    Ranged: Crossbows, each with 60 bolts


    Tools for Navigation and Excavation: compasses and maps. old tech GPS Unit, shovels, pickaxes, crowbars, multi-tools, and screwdrivers.


    Lighting: Midtech torchlights, good quality. Hooded Lanterns, monster oil. Battery backups.


    Survival Supplies


    Provisions: Dried meat, fruit, and hardtack. Water jugs. Canteens.


    Medical Kits: First aid kits with bandages, antiseptics, and painkillers. Anti-radiation medication.


    Repair Tools and Materials: Spare parts for gear and protective suits, duct tape, and sealants.


    Portable Shelter: Tents, sleeping bags.


    Specialized Equipment: Midtech Radiation Detectors.


    Documentation: Parchment and writing supplies.


    Scavenging and Salvaging: heavy-duty backpacks and storage containers. Magnetic lift tools for handling heavy metal parts. Blacksmithing kits, midtech, for on-site repairs. Miscellaneous Supplies


    Miscellaneous Tools: Ropes and grappling hooks, pens. Matches, lighters, and fire-starting kits.


    Ensure all team members are briefed and ready for departure. Conduct final checks on all gear before transit.


    Travel to Chic-A-Go:


    Follow the primary route marked on the mission map. Establish temporary camps each night, ensuring safety and security.


    Scavenging Operation:


    Upon arrival, secure a base of operations within the safer zone of the ruins. Begin detailed exploration of identified scavenge points. Prioritize retrieval of advanced salvage. Document and map findings for future reference.


    Return Travel:


    Retrace the route back to the city. Ensure all retrieved items are securely transported. Maintain vigilance against any threats encountered during the journey.


    Reporting and Debriefing:


    Submit detailed reports and inventory of all retrieved items to Master Boyerman. Repay Sir Alain Hembersworth¡¯s fee as per the knightly escort agreement.


    Special Notes:


    High-value returns are expected from this mission. Any items deemed of exceptional value are to be reported. Cooperation and coordination with Sir Alain Hembersworth are crucial for mission success. His word is final.


    Emergency Protocol:


    Ensure all retrieved valuable items are protected and hidden if a full retreat is necessary.


    I felt myself holding my breath as I read over the gear and objectives. It seemed like a lot. Though, to be fair, Techlock had also brought an impressive amount of equipment with him for our own undocumented salvage run.


    ¡°I assume that we will be picking all of this up at the guild?¡± I asked.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be loaded into the mech¡¯s cockpit storage. It is beneath a knight to come get you, Alaric. But rest assured that he will check all of the equipment and have everything ready to go when the two of you meet him, tomorrow, at the South Gate.¡±


    ¡°When?¡± Elli asked.


    Her lips were pursed in a way that I knew well. She was both nervous and excited.


    ¡°Dawn.¡± Radulf stood. ¡°The rest of the papers, sign them and bring them as well. I¡¯ll be there to see you off, and to bring the contracts back to Boyerman.¡±


    I blew out a long puff of pent-up air.


    ¡°So, this is really happening.¡±


    ¡°Damn right it is,¡± Radulf said, walking to the door. He looked down at the locked latch quizzically, reaching down and releasing the bolts while muttering something under his breath.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Elli asked, her eyebrow arched.


    ¡°Just thinking,¡± Radulf said, sighing. ¡°You''ve been dealt a shit deal, yet I can¡¯t help but think this might really be something good for you two. Be thorough, follow the rules, and don¡¯t keep Boyerman waiting.¡±


    With that, he left, the door closing behind him with a resounding thud. I stared at the scroll cases lying on the workbench, waiting to be opened and signed, and I locked eyes with Elli.


    ¡°Looks like we¡¯ve got our work cut out for us,¡± Elli muttered.


    She sat down and uncorked the first case, while I stood there motionless, my mind awhir.


    ¡°You gonna help?¡± Elli asked, cocking her head at me and giving me a quirky side-smile.


    ¡°Yeah. Let¡¯s do this,¡± I answered, smiling. I headed to the door and locked it back up tight before coming to join her.

 CHAPTER 23

    Morning came with a characteristically CD crash, sending me out of my bed and right to the floor. His hologram stood there, smirking, a full-on white-plated mech knight clashing his sword against a large shield.


    ¡°What the?¡± I asked groggily, torn fully out of dreams that deserved their own play at the local theater.


    ¡°In the hunt, the first to fight, claim the prize by right,¡± he said smugly. ¡°Apes rise at dawn. Warriors rise at the sun¡¯s first inkling.¡±


    I shook my head, not at all liking this new martial take on things. Sure, it didn¡¯t seem wrong; but from what he just said, I could have gotten at least another half hour of shut-eye.


    ¡°What time is it, CD?¡± I asked, not bothering to even try to hide the annoyance in my voice.


    ¡°Does it matter? I¡¯ve scanned the city. Few have digital clocks, and all of those exist in homes of tremendous design. Some more water clocks and pendulum-based clocks, which makes me assume they are of this mid-tech variety. The new tech clocks are also rare and seem to be of the rock-in-circle variety that requires the sun to even be readable. And the majority have no devices at all! Like yourself, I might add.¡±


    I groaned. He wasn¡¯t wrong, but his whole big speech missed the point of the phrase completely.


    ¡°Alright. Yeah. So what are you waking me up for?¡±


    ¡°You have to be there at dawn, ape. And I would like to be sure that you are properly prepared.¡±


    I sighed and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes.


    ¡°Alright, alright. Give me a moment to get dressed, you slavedriver. Sheesh, you¡¯re even worse than the nobles.¡±


    ¡°Hah! I pity you if I¡¯m the bane of your existence, little monkey. Get.¡±


    I stood, suddenly self-conscious of the fact that I was wearing nothing at all. My hand flew to cover my privacy, and CD cocked his flickering head.


    ¡°Is this a protective measure? Are you preparing for combat against a being that is literally a flickering avatar of light?¡±


    I laughed.


    ¡°No. Just, I dunno. Seems weird to have you looking at my balls. Could you maybe turn around or something?¡±


    CD nodded, his hologram flickering slightly as he turned away. I ran through my meager supply of clothing, picking out the largest tunic I had since my body had expanded quite a bit, and pulling on breeches that I''d once considered roomy. Pausing briefly, I grabbed some cloth wraps for my feet and added a tool bit to the ensemble.


    After all, the last ¡°quest¡± I''d been on would probably have been a lot easier if I''d had my gear.


    As I dressed, CD¡¯s voice droned on, echoing through the room.


    ¡°You do realize that despite appearing to face the wall, I can still perceive your actions quite clearly? This primitive modesty is illogical. It is beyond me why you monkeys like to lick each--¡±


    ¡°Enough, CD.¡±


    ¡°No, it is not enough. Furthermore, your methods of clothing yourself are highly inefficient. A Toran would have¡ª¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± I muttered, fastening my belt. ¡°Spare me the lecture, CD. We humans do things differently.¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± he continued, ignoring my attempt to silence him. ¡°Your reliance on such archaic textiles and lack of automated dressing mechanisms is quite telling. A Toran would have had a fully integrated¡ª¡±


    I rolled my eyes, tuning out his ramblings as I adjusted my gear.


    ¡°I''m up and dressed CD. What''s next on the agenda?¡±


    ¡°Strong apes eat before the hunt. Forage some bugs and litter.¡±


    I laughed hard before heading to the pantry. There was plenty for a big hard breakfast, and his advice was sound. After all, who knew what we''d be eating once we set out? I grabbed bread, cheese, and some cured meat, devouring it quickly.


    I rummaged through the shop, ensuring that I had everything that might be useful and stuffing it into a rucksack. The pack was soon filled with essentials: several loaves of bread, a wedge of cheese, and some more cured meat for sustenance. I added a small clay jar of dried fruit, a flask of water, and an extra set of basic tools¡ªa hammer, chisel, a small saw, and a set of screwdrivers. A coil of sturdy rope found its place alongside a small pouch of coins, a piece of flint and steel for starting fires, and an extra set of cloth wraps for my feet. A compact first-aid kit with bandages and herbal salves went in next, followed by the saber I¡¯d found in the last quest. This one I extra-wrapped in cloth to ensure it wouldn¡¯t tear through my pack.


    ¡°You know,¡± I said as I was putting all my goods into my ruck, ¡°This quest sounds like it is well supplied already. Is there a reason I need to be over-prepare?¡±


    CD cocked his head, giving me a condescending look.


    ¡°This society of yours doesn¡¯t seem to be very meritocratic. I suggest that these many supplies won¡¯t often be open to you or your compatriot.¡±This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    I nodded. He was right. It was a good idea to look after myself as I never knew what the trip would bring. Besides, even though the knight escort wasn¡¯t a total asshole, he could be a three-quarter asshole, and that would be enough to make our lives miserable.


    Once ready, I strapped on my pack.


    ¡°Alright, let''s get moving. Metaphorically of course, since you''ll be holding down the fort. Is the TUNI going to reach far enough?¡±


    CD projected a globe on the wall, our planet as seen from the moon, I guessed. It was a beautiful blue and green, streaked through with pale tan and dark browns. As I watched, we soared down through the clouds, stopping at a point still well above the ground.


    A red dot appeared, with the words ALNDA popping up in caps beside it. I squinted, trying to make out the formidable walls that protected us, but from this height, our entire city was nothing more than an ant on the pavement. A dotted line, also in red, snaked out from our destination, moving through hills and forest, across a great and mighty river, to head into a much larger red dot that CD erroneously labeled CHICAGO. I marveled at how much larger and thicker it was, a vast forest of ruined buildings.


    I had a moment of tremendous awe roll through me as I looked on. The ancients, everything about them was simply unbelievable. It was no wonder that CD and his ilk had been defeated. That begged the question: what kind of treasures were there hidden in this vast world?


    Another thought hit me. How powerful must the Torans have been to destroy most of this world? It sure would have been a wondrous time to be alive, that¡¯s for sure.


    ¡°I will boost my signal,¡± CD said, interrupting my thoughts. ¡°Using the still-functioning satellites in orbit around your planet, I should stay in range for most of your travel. There will almost undoubtedly be times that the material of the buildings you enter will block our signal. But in those instances, I suspect you will be able to ape-bash anything you find without my help. At least for long enough to find a place to reestablish contact.¡±


    I nodded, not understanding much of what he meant, but knew it didn''t matter.


    ¡°Sure thing, oh mighty overlord. Got it.¡±


    I stepped to the door and reached out to open it. CD called out, stopping and surprising me.


    ¡°Alaric, be safe.¡±


    I turned, surprise overwhelming me and even showing on my face.


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    CD''s hologram shifted awkwardly.


    ¡°I would hate to be trapped here in the dark, without any sun to charge my batteries. It would suck having to go into standby mode because you and Elli did something stupid.¡±


    I snorted, waved goodbye, and stepped out of the shop into the crisp and cool air of predawn morning. He was changing, little by little, so I figured there was still hope for him.


    ¡°Heya Al!¡± Elli called out, already coming up the path to meet me. ¡°I was 95% sure I was going to tear those covers off of you and get you moving. What gives?¡±


    I smiled.


    ¡°CD. He''s way too much of a morning person.¡±


    She cocked a half-smile back at me.


    ¡°I bet. More monkey drum stuff?¡±


    ¡°A white knight this time. Sword-on-shield. But it wasn''t a big waste, he got me extra-prepped in case the nobles decide to screw with us.¡±


    Elli nodded, adjusting the straps on her own pack as if to draw attention to the fact that she''d prepped extra as well.


    ¡°Glad everything''s set. Ready to go? Or do you want to¡­go back inside and make out or something? I made sure to be extra fresh this morning.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, if there wasn¡¯t a sword hanging over our heads, I would probably take you up on that offer. Come on, let¡¯s go. I don¡¯t want the knight to give us crap for being late.¡±


    The sky began to brighten as we wound our way through the city streets of Alnda, avoiding the occasional pothole in the mid-and-new-tech cobble. Elli and I walked side by side, our breaths wisping out clouds as we walked. The city was still asleep, and I was glad it was. There was something perfect about just being alone and away from all the noise and bustle for a while. It had its charms, sure, but I preferred the peace.


    Even if we were possibly marching to our doom.


    ¡°Bet you wish you were still in bed,¡± Elli teased, nudging me with her elbow.


    I yawned.


    ¡°No way. I hate sleep. Sleeping is for suckers.¡±


    She giggled.


    ¡°Well, I wish I was in bed. Not the one I have now, though. A big one, with a canopy and columns on the corners. Set in a big old mansion. You could work there and bring me breakfast around noon. Maybe even join me sometimes?¡±


    I blew a raspberry.


    ¡°I bet I''d be tending your private gardens too.¡±


    ¡°You''d be tending something alright,¡± she winked.


    ¡°The two of you make me sick,¡± CD said through our TUNI. ¡°I will stop listening for a while so keep on¡­keeping on, apelings.¡±


    ¡°He sure is a handful, huh?¡± Elli chuckled.


    As we walked and talked, we passed through the city. The market district smelled like rising bread, I was surprised to realize, while many of the streetways smelled of freshly dumped urine and offal. Here and there echoed the clatter of wooden crates and barrels being moved, or the soft cursing of manual laborers up way before they wished to be. Once a dog barked, only to whimper away from whatever it''d been antagonizing. But as we progressed, the city began to wake, and more people took to the streets.


    ¡°You nervous?¡± Elli asked, her voice softening as she glanced at me.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I admitted. ¡°That quest I did with Techlock had some big surprises. I can''t even imagine what this Chic-A-Go is all about. I hope those knights do their jobs well and don''t just spend the whole time kicking us around.¡±


    ¡°I''m a free woman,¡± Elli scoffed. ¡°They''d be in for a lot of hurt if they disrespected me.¡±


    ¡°They''d knife you and leave you, El. Me too. So, let''s just hope they aren''t dicks.¡±


    Elli quieted after that, realizing that I was unfortunately right. We made the rest of our way in silence through the now ironically loud city. Things felt awkward, and I opened my mouth a few times to try to ease the tension, or maybe reword what I''d said. But there wasn''t anything I could put into its place without lying.


    I cast a look at her and saw her chewing her lip. I reached out my hand, taking hers.


    ¡°We''ll be fine. Even if they are dicks. No worries. Just profit. Everyone loves profit, right?¡±


    She swallowed hard and nodded.


    ¡°Credits, mansions, and gardeners,¡± she whispered, that familiar twinkle making its way back into her eyes.


    We passed a Guild collection station, its stone facade adorned with the logo of the Scavengers, and came into sight of the gate just as the very lightest edge of the sun began to peek over the horizon. Standing there, silhouetted by the red-orange orb, were the knights, their Cataphract and Toxotais facing out and away from the city. I drew in a deep breath seeing them standing there, and Elli did the same. The way they were framed, it almost looked like a painting.


    ¡°This is exactly how I imagined adventures are supposed to start,¡± I said, feeling the corners of my mouth rise in a smile.


    I caught Elli''s eyes as she caught mine, and we burst out laughing, realizing our shared thoughts on the matter.


    ¡°I might suggest that your demeanor with these warriors be more serious, simians,¡± CD advised us through the light crackle of TUNI.


    ¡°I thought you were going to give us some privacy?¡± I whispered.


    ¡°And let you get yourself killed because of that loud mouth of yours? Monkeys need a caretaker or they¡¯ll just run in circles and ask for a banana.¡±


    We both laughed even harder, stumbling a little as we walked to the gate guards. They looked at us, faces curious, but no words were exchanged as they waved us through and onto our mission. Another hundred feet and we were face to face with our adventuring group.