by Han Yang
“Ah, so close range fighting,” I said and she nodded. Joana let out a grunt. “You okay?”
“I… I’m not a big girl with augments to my shoulders. Firing the bussies are tough for me.” I understood her slang to mean blunderbuss. “I -”
Ginli shook her head. “There are variations. Look. You get some perks being Huntas with the boss's daughter. We go in a steam carriage, we get steambots to do cleaning, and heavy lifting. All you need to do is ensure nothing attacks me from behind and listen to my orders. Don’t overthink it please.”
“I’ll adapt, we all will.” I kept the positive attitude going
Ginli smiled, leading us to a big store called Kill ‘em Good. “Tarco owned this place, never see him here though. His son is a favored toy of mothers. Even though there are other factions, the Mistress reigns supreme.”
A guard in a top hat with a monocle inclined his head, opening the glass door for us. This shop was huge, going far deeper than it was wide. Unlike Leon’s shop where everything was compacted to get the most items on shelves this was laid out evenly.
Signs buzzed, flickering their lights to tell me each section of items for sale. Ginli led Joana over to a ladies section that was labeled for blunderbusses.
I was in awe, taking in my setting.
“You’re crazy,” a middle-aged man who wore a fine suit with extra bronze buckles and buttons said. He had four pocket watches and a pen with a pad in his vest pocket. “You okay?”
“Yes, sorry. I hit my head recently. I’m afraid I’m new to such wonders,” I said, sticking out my forearm. “Bradley.”
He clasped my arm in greeting. “Tarco.”
“Uh… Ginli said you were never here,” I admitted and he smiled.
“The mistress sent me to greet you. Not every day Gearnix tells her to stop torturing someone,” Tarco said, making me nervous. I rubbed the back of my neck. “You need to be careful. The Rooki are angling to make a move on the Mistress. You might be their target since she is seen as favoring you.”
“Ha! Oh right…” I grumbled, remembering I couldn’t talk about my torture even if Tarco knew. “Perception is everything when the truth is absent.”
“Why are they suddenly so friendly? Ginli hates… everyone.”
“It’ll cost ya!” I smirked and he chuckled. When he nodded I said. “I told them they had to treat each other like family while they were paired with me.”
“Incredible. Not in a million years I’d think she’d agree. Or the black listed one. She was so pitiful. Wanted to be an adventurer so badly and literally hit a ceiling everywhere she went.”
I shrug. “Call me silly, but I plan on helping her break a lot of em. I’m a fan of an underdog you might say.”
“With Ginli being all nice and proper, well, you stand a good chance. What brings ya to my store?”
“Kill em Good! Love the name.” A little flattery never hurt. “I need an empowered sword and a bussie. I got this one in my pack to trade in too.”
“Keep it, honestly backup basics have saved more lives than I can count. Trust me, worth the effort to haul a backup. That’s it though. A sword and a blunderbuss?”
“Oh, for now. I want to get a venturebot, a steambot for my apartment, a longrifle, a travelcart, and so on,” I said and he nodded.
“Starting a small company then. Faction Mistress?” he asked and I shrugged.
“Yeah. Haven’t looked into hiring because people aren’t very trustworthy in Langshire. Hell, Leon and Joana coulda killed me a dozen times and thankfully didn’t.”
Tarco said, “Well… kinda why there is a blacklist. You screw an employer or partner and you get on the list. You die to a bullet instead of claw marks the guilds and companies will realize what killed you.
“Wish I could load ya up, but while I can play favorites I can’t tip the scales. Mistress’s discount is the best I can do.” He motioned for me to follow him deeper into the store. “How much ya got?”
“Five bronze and a few in the bank. Make it six and I’ll keep the rest in reserve,” I said, coming to a conclusion.
“Well, I’m here to give you a tour. Let's start with the longrifles.” he said, leading me to a section of weapons that were all longer than my arm. Some were a Winchester type without a scope, and others had triple scopes.
“Left is cheapest right is most expensive. Everything from here on is purchased by bank notes. Now is a good time to pick a cheaper, more stable job. Nothin wrong with working a counter and it’d keep you out of the spotlight,” Tarco said, and I could tell he was warning me.
“I think I’d rather be a Huntas than a bank teller. Call me crazy but shooting rabid animals for a living is pretty epic,” I said and he chuckled. “What do you recommend?”
He went to the right side of the rack. So far it was the last weapon. He hoisted up a single scoped rifle. The buttstock was glass and when he handed me the weapon, I saw the glass was actually crystal. I bounced the weapon lightly, getting a feel for its weight.
“This is a custom made. You can fill this back canister up. It's so pricey because the crystal is actually a solid piece, has to be.
“And then the weapon needs about every piece upgraded to help balance the weight. Also why it’s a touch long. A thousand bronze and worth every coin,” Tarco said in his best salesman’s pitch.
While I was in love with the weapon, I wasn’t in love with the price. “And the five bronze one to use until I get here?” I asked and he set the weapon back.
His hand waved to the back half. “If you give me a downposit yer welcome to test them all at the range. Worth the hassle to find the right one. Might be better to modify a weapon on yer own. Most Huntas buy medium and then piece it together. But that beaut, she’ll be nothing but leveling with a deadlier punch for less H consumed.”
I hadn’t thought of that. Buying a high end advanced rifle and then modifying it would be interesting. He continued the tour when we were halted by a younger version of Tarco. The man had zero modification, soft features, and a warm smile.
He deftly used a measuring tape to quickly figure out my sizes before he left. I noticed he never wrote down a single number. Efficiency at its finest.
“Pablo is gifted. Ginli is probably wanting you in matching outfits. It will be an expense covered by her, paid for you by you later. Alright, this aisle is wooden replicas.
“I have the actual items of these carvings in the back and you can see the astronomical prices to drool over later. Relics of a forgotten time when the wilds gave more per kill than they do now.”
Yeah… the steam bull was twenty thousand cubes of hydrox. I didn’t have enough fingers on my hand to figure out how much that was in bronze.
I did get to see a bull, lion, tiger, and bear, oh my. The mechanical mounts were certainly for the wealthy. At the end of the aisle, he went left. I, however, saw a glow on the right.
A door seam illuminated an orange glow instead of the dirty yellow. A sign above the double door said spare parts.
I felt odd. As if there was something calling to me.
Tarco said something but I went into the room and gasped.
The small warehouse-sized room was a cluster of epic proportions. What had to be billions of parts were simply piled onto piles on top of piles. Shelving units had been converted into land bridges with ramps for workers to dump parts.
I was in dismay at not only how wasteful it was, but with how it simply existed.
“Did you not hear me?” Tarco asked. I walked for the left ramp that led to metal planks above the piles of discarded small parts. From up high it looked like an angry child had dumped a thousand piles of metallic legos.
“No.”
“This is where the crafters come. Mistress gave me your stat sheet. You're a whopping zero in crafting.”
“Gotta start somewhere,” I fired back, walking the plank for the orange glow.
There were so many parts. Gearnix, and the Gearnix System purchasing pro
cess was about a billion tiny pieces coming together to form a whole object. I liked the system for it did give the world a neat twist.
But this is what happens when a blunderbuss is stripped of parts and the trigger kept. The vast majority of the spare parts were exactly that. The worst thing was, you’d never know what went to what in this pile.
“It’d take years to sort this. Can’t you return it to the Gearnix Stations?” I asked, hopping off the planks and into the parts. My feet sent an avalanche of metal pieces cascading down.
“Huh? Oh, that’d be fantastic. But no. Every thirty years or so I smelt this down and sell the bars of metal to the crafters. We always try to keep it organized, I swear.
“Honestly, it’s kinda overdue. Just haven’t fallen on hard times and some of the tinkerers love this room. Spend days finding parts that give them ideas. Kinda like talkin with them about their trials in here over tea or coffee. Whatcha doin in here anyway?”
“Give me a moment.” I headed down a large dump point. I uncovered parts, seeing the leak of a glow. “Hey what does it cost to keep a secret with you?”
“Uh, I can’t. Not from the Mistress and especially not about you,” He said and the door swung open.
“What do you need kept secret?” Ginli said in a commanding tone.
I huffed digging at the parts and not getting any closer. “I need a bucket or something. Actually,” I changed my tone to something official, “ladies I require your assistance on my quest.”
“A quest!” Joana said with glee, racing up the ramp.
“Sold. A Gearnix blessed is on a mission in the junk room.” I glanced over to see the fiery redhead beaming a smile. “Yeah… I’m so in. Here, go settle my tab.” Ginli handed him a carry cart of items. “Yes, I know… it is yer store. We require privacy.”
I was kinda surprised he left.
“Was that a blunderbuss in there?” I asked.
“Yea, and we picked out a new outfit or two for you. I’m excited to decorate your place,” Joana said and I frowned. “Come on, not like you were going to give it that Langshire appeal.”
“Uh… A single chair to sit on the balcony to ponder my forgotten past was more than enough. I got -” My mind caught up to what they were saying. “Why would you be wanting to decorate my place?”
“New life, new you.” Ginli laughed while fetching some carrying trays. “The blunderbuss I got you was seven bronze but it is that good of a find. A custom adjuster that I’ll teach you about on the ride out. It’ll need leveling but you’ll love me for a long time because the weapon is a rare treat.”
“Uh… and the sword?” I asked, returning to digging. “Kinda need a sidearm too.”
“Loaners from the shop at base level and if we do good I return them and get a cut on the value increase. If we die they get to take money out of my account.” Ginli handed me a tub to fill. “Yeah… Chew on the fact I’m sticking my neck out fer ya.”
“I take it you want me to trust you?” I said and Joana winced.
“Yes, Bradley. I do. I can… I’m sworn to my mother, just as Tarco is. Except… I’ve hidden stuff from her my whole life and if I hide something else from her, and get caught… I don’t disappear.”
I paused my digging. I noticed the orange glow getting brighter. “What do you see?” I asked them both, and they both shrugged. “Again, notice anything at all?” They shook their heads. Joana bit her lip, holding in what she wanted to say. “It’s okay if you think I’m crazy. I do too right now. I… I do see an orange glow. I can’t say more than that. Will you help me?”
“Darling, I’m on my knees for you in this fine outfit in a dank pit of greasy parts. Of course, I’ll help ya.” Ginli giggled and Joana nodded her head in agreement.
I dug, shifting the metal bits with a renewed focus. As I uncovered, the ladies helped the pile of parts from falling back into the pit I created.
Joana hummed a song to help the process. I was shocked how deep this pile went.
Then I found the golden shine that caused me to shield my eyes. The ladies saw my reflexes and tensed.
In the uncovered section of the pit rested a head. There was no body or even a lower jaw. Even an ear was missing and a rent in the side of the metal was on display.
I fished the head out of the pit, handing it to Joana. Ginli neared, close enough to whisper in my ear. “Is that what the quest was?”
“I think so.”
Joana frowned. “I don’t recognize the style.”
“Cause it’s a custom,” Ginli said, taking the head. “He or she… is definitely a custom. Wonder why it found you?”
“Please tell me I don't have to sort the billions of pieces to rebuild that thing?” I asked with a grunt.
“Uh no. We will stick the head on a steambot for now, and make some repairs. Might even get you a few points in crafting. Well, by now, I mean after our mission.” Ginli patted my back encouragingly.
I dug around the pit trying to find any parts that went with him. After a few minutes I gave up, mostly because the alluring shine had vanished. Feeling good about the find, and a potential new friend, I left for the exit.
“So, what kind of mission did you decide on?”
“You’ll see. We leave the second you’re both in your new gear. I hate borrowing, and I hate being with family who are poor. We’re going to change that real quick,” Ginli said in a confident manner, leaving for the door.
“Um… Thanks for the help Ginli, and thank you for trusting me, Bradley. Is the mission dangerous?” Joana asked hesitantly.
When Ginli didn’t answer I grew nervous. Or maybe the butterflies in my stomach were excitement at going into the unknown to hunt for hydrox…
CHAPTER 11
“You confound me,” I muttered from my comfy spot in the carriage. The luxurious carriage had tall, wide wheels that rolled smoothly over a partially overgrown road.
I sat on the back bend, a book in hand nestled in comfy pillows. Joana was on a right bench asleep and Ginli was on the left bench jotting notes into a journal.
Ginli looked up to scoff. “And you confound me. Smartarse thinkin big words aren’t known by us Langshire folks.”
“Huh? No, this isn’t about me judging your intelligence… Oh, I see what you did there.” She smiled with a mischievous grin.
It almost had me forgetting what I was trying to figure out. “Joana is sleeping from pulling guard all night. I thought this was a quick mission.” I sat up, sliding a peephole open to view the exterior. The forest canopy slowly passed by. “Instead we have three wagons behind us. All being pulled by horses, traveling a trail that appears ancient. Add in that I'm baffled there hasn’t been an attack and...”
“We need the space and the moment we get there, I’ll tell ya the plan.” This is what she said every time I asked her since yesterday. “The best stuff isn’t close to Langshire. You study that weapon yet?”
“Darcy?” I asked and she groaned.
“Yes, Darcy. Mind you, naming both the busses you have Darcy makes no sense,” she teased.
“I’m a complicated guy.”
“Indubiously. Bradley, come sit by me?” Ginli patted the spot beside her.
Up to this point, I’d been keeping the ladies at length, focusing on learning from my books. I had the three about the basics of Gearnix, and then I bought one on steambot crafting. While I was missing the parts to finish the head I had uncovered, I wanted to learn everything I could.
My current spot in the book was breaking down key components, and actually was riveting stuff.
Ginli, she wanted attention and her pout was endearing, so I left my comfy nest, carried my pillows over, and snuggled into her side. She ran her fingers through my hair while I went back to reading.
A steambot and venture bot were the same in concept, just constructed in different ways. They both had a brain box in the head. The larger the head, the larger the processing box you could build. There were diminishing returns else a m
echanical bull would be a genius.
I thumbed the next page. A processing unit was a summation of tiny parts and those unique bits were different. As in, two new parts from the Gearnix Station would result in two robots never being the same in their mannerism. Their abilities to perform tasks could be replicated.
“Want me to summarize? We’re nearing our destination,” Ginli asked.
I quietly closed the book, setting it on my chest. The thing that was getting to me was how much I enjoy her nearness. I… I was never big on intimate moments of affection and yet, this felt not only good, but great.
“Yes please.”
Her tone was low and sweet. “That head is the head of a venturebot.”
When she mentioned this, it confirmed my theory. The damage did too, but the head was larger than many I saw on the working class of robots.
Ginli continued, “It can go on a steambot, and assuming the memories are intact, which they may not be with that head damaged, and then it will adjust for the smaller frame. I will warn you now. Building anything from scratch takes tedious amounts of time.”
“How come I don’t see all the screws? A lot of parts look flawless but in reality -”
She giggled lightly. “Are thousands of tiny pieces assembled together. Yeah. Gearnix works in mysterious ways. Unassembled, the slots show. When assembled, they are covered to appear as one part. It takes a Gearnix tool hovering over the screw spots to find them.”
“We have a dozen workers in this caravan. I feel like a kid with a toy he can’t play with,” I grumbled.
“In due time. You’re broke, and this adventure will change that.” The carriage rolled to a stop. A front slide flap opened and I adjusted to see a steambot poke his head in.
“We’re here, Goddess,” the robot said from a speaker within its mouth.
I rolled my eyes with a chortle.
All of her steambot referred to her as Goddess and everyone else as a peasant. Instead of dwelling on the fact, I left my comfy spot to wake Joana. Her long stretch tricked me because I was wrapped in a warm hug as she left the side bench bed.
