Sunstone: A Steampunk Reality

by Holly Barbo

  Quin shook his head. “You’ve been sleeping as you healed. The medicines I had were mostly topical. I had some in case you showed signs of infection, but that didn’t come up.”

  M’nacht took a drink and closed his eyes in contentment just for a moment. But when he opened them, they were clear with sharp intelligence. “Where are we?”

  Quin refilled the cup. “We are in the unfinished penthouse suite of the condo building you own on the outskirts of the Four Corners district. No one expects us to be here, and it was close enough to Paramount Hospital that the distance didn’t endanger you.” He paused and glanced toward the windows. “As long as we aren’t silhouetted against the windows, no one would suspect that anyone is in residence. Your foreman, Jordan, would walk through a volcano for you since you saved his home and helped his daughter get into that internship. He’s been ensuring our secrecy and supplying our needs. He should be here soon, as he swings by to lock up the building every night. I’m glad you’re awake. There’s a lot to tell you.”

  M’nacht ran his fingers through his white mane of hair. “I must get up and move. I’ll be helpless if I weaken more.” He sat up with a grimace. “Could you fix me some food while I go to the bathroom? If I recall, it’s down that hall, and I can lean on the wall if I must.” He caught the concerned look on Quin’s face. “I won’t fall. I promise.”

  By the time Quin had fixed a sandwich and some fruit, M’nacht was back. There was a visible tremor to his limbs as he sat down. He ate in silence as Quin filled him in.

  “Kes got our messages.” He nodded as M’nacht’s eyebrow went up. “Yes, I left him one, too. He knows you were injured and I assume he did whatever it was you told him to do. I don’t know where he is, and as far as I know our location is unknown too.”

  M’nacht sat back, replete. “Good, because I think that would be a safer scenario for all of us. I know some of the individuals who visited me, and I think I know what they want, but until the time is ripe we must stay out of sight.” He stood again and began to walk around the room. This time his movements were more sure. “The food helped. Don’t worry, I promise by the Goddess I won’t fall.”

  Quin shook his head in wonder as he watched M’nacht’s steps become more smooth and confident. He began fixing another plate of food. If fueling his old friend’s body helped him regain his strength that quickly, he’d better keep meals ready.

  There was a knock, and a man in his forties entered and closed the door behind him. He was strong and compactly built, as if he’d worked in construction his whole life, which wasn’t far from the truth. He currently managed several projects for the injured man, but one of his biggest assets was he was well connected to laborers all over Myrn and in that capacity gleaned information for his boss. “M’nacht! It is good to see you up and moving around. Don’t overdo it now. Have a seat.” He glanced at Quin at the kitchen counter. “You can eat while I talk.”

  Ignoring the bed that he’d been in for days, M’nacht sat in a chair near the window, but no one turned on the aether lamps and twilight touched the room.

  Jordan sat and, resting his strong arms on his knees, leaned toward M’nacht. “I’m glad to see you up and about. I’m not sure how much longer you’ll be safe here. Unrest is building. The numbers of people who have grievances are increasing, and there may be riots soon. They’re focusing on the Four Corners area as it is the financial center and also the home of some of our wealthiest families.”

  “Tell me what you know.”

  Jordan touched one finger. “Steam plant and factory workers have received pay cuts at the same time that prices for food and goods have gone up. Mercantile establishments belonging to those same corporations extend credit to them so they can feed their families. The next payday, the stores get their payment plus interest and the worker has even less. More and more laborers are now working for free. Their entire wage goes to the company store. They are trapped. They can’t leave because of their debt. They are owned, body and soul.”

  He pressed a second finger down. “Funding for education has been decreasing. Many families can’t afford to send their children to school, and because of my first point, there are more children working in the factories. It is a way to help their families have food. They are small and the danger to them is greater as they try to do tasks intended for bigger people. And it’s not just children. Teens and young adults can’t free themselves from their families’ debt and see no future but the continuing of the life they are in. Jobs in the factories and plants are hazardous but represent a wage.

  “The pickers and gleaners live an even rougher existence. They go through the garbage boxes behind every business picking out metals, food and sellable items. The trash dumps that feed the hot geothermal power smelters are also sites for these folks but there they are competing with the rodents and large scavenger birds who can attack. They live off what they find and can sell. If they are sick or injured, they can’t make money and get food. I’ve seen more gleaners scrambling through those smelly, dirty, germ-ridden mounds than ever before.” Jordan’s eyes were bleak. “And I’ve heard of some desperate families selling their children… their daughters… to get money, or to have a debt forgiven. Hope, that important factor for our human existence, is disappearing, and without that, there’s anger which can easily lead to trouble.”

  He pressed down a third finger. “There is a new illness showing up, mostly among the steam plant, gleaners and factory workers. It’s baffling the doctors. Because of the debt, workers can’t afford to take time off, so even if the health care personnel had a treatment, the sick wouldn’t get it in time. The death and injury toll is rising.”

  Down went a fourth finger. “The money flow for small businesses and the sciences is being tightened. Businesses are closing and more people are losing their job because of it. Lack of income means they can’t make payments, from doctor visits to home loan reparation. They are losing hope as they go from place to place looking for work. There is room in the steam plants and the factories because…”

  Pressing the fifth finger, he continued, “The regulations and inspectors for the steam and other industries have lost their funding, so the accidents are climbing in frequency and severity.” At this point, Jordan made a circle so the fifth finger now touched the first then touched the top of the shape with his other index finger. “I haven’t heard where the source is coming from but the news organizations are blaming the unrest on a radical sect of Navora’s people they are calling shaman. This is, I believe, an attempt to distract the people and focus their rage on any priests or shrine caretakers. The other group that is receiving blame are the scientists. The news reporters are saying that claims of sunspot activity is a ploy to secure more funding for the scientists, which is taking money away from the people.

  “The storm is building, and when it hits, it isn’t going to be pretty. Right now, it is being controlled. The word is out that any employee identified in an unruly crowd, at a meeting concerning work conditions or arrested for causing a disturbance will lose their job. Some bosses have said that all members of their families will be fired too. If it gets to the point that they have lost all hope, that won’t stop them. It feels like a volcano building. If I’m reading the situation correctly, we’re nearly there. We could have riots at any time… or it could be in a month. But when that happens, it is likely that the mob will break into this building and any others in this area.” He shook his head.

  The silence was so deep in the room that the three men could hear some pedestrians yelling at the loaded trolley cars as people returned home from their daily activities ten floors below. In the diffuse light of the gloaming, M’nacht stirred, his soft voice shattering the silence. “I know for a fact that the reports about the scientists are completely false. There are a few more sunspots right now, but nothing to get alarmed about. The departments have been losing funding and all efforts to reinstate the previous amounts have met with cold reception. My guess is that the C
ouncil of Elders has heard the phony news stories and believed them. I’d bet there is no shaman group at all, but the planted lies would cause people to distrust those sources of comfort and help. I knew some of this but not the whole. By the Goddess, I even sit on the financial syndicate board! I’ve heard none of this! Though I have several charities and support many programs, I’ve been insulated simply because of my wealth. How long has this been going on?”

  Jordan shrugged. “No one blames you or some of the other wealthy individuals. The clockwork tycoons seem to be more aligned with the welfare of their workers. The laborers in those factories are more specialized, engineering and detail machinists. From what I’ve heard, they call their bosses Cog-Kings. It is a friendly term. You are respected amongst the people, even loved.

  “Hindsight is clearer than regular vision. This probably has roots going way back. It has picked up speed in the last year or so. Everything is coming to a head. I’d like to see you active and speaking out instead of hiding.”

  Quin stirred. Jordan glanced at him but shrugged it off. “I know you are in danger. I don’t diminish that, as I can see the remnants of that beating. But because you are held in high-esteem by the people, they would listen, and perhaps you could also be heard in the Council of Elders, and you could diffuse this. I could put together some people that would protect you so well that even moneyed thugs wouldn’t get through. My concern is that if there are riots, this building could be firebombed. Every building in this area could be vulnerable except perhaps the old science building. That place has a patina of age that reminds people of another era when things were better. But even that building could go if a mob gets violent enough. There are no guarantees.”

  M’nacht took a deep breath and winced as it strained a cracked rib. “I appreciate everything you’ve told me. I think, for me to try to affect change, I have to be stronger, but more importantly, I need evidence to use as leverage. First thing I must do is to get to a more secure location. Then I have to find out whom we can trust and what information we can get our hands on. Do you think I have a few more safe days here?”

  “Take a look out the window at the crowd below.”

  M’nacht and Quin moved to the windows but stayed in the shadows of the casement. There were several small groups of people, but there was no sign of agitation.

  “My feeling is that unless security enforcement or the more military security forces shows up or something sparks the crowd, you’re safe tonight. I’ve told my wife that I’m staying on the job site. I have my steam car in the back garage and will take you wherever you need to go. Think about it.”

  M’nacht nodded. “Thank you for all you’ve done. You’re a good friend.”

  Jordan smiled and reached out to slap M’nacht on the shoulder as he had always done but checked the impulse at the last moment. “I’ll just wave myself out. Quin knows how to find me.”

  In the silence that followed Jordan’s departure, Quin returned to the kitchen and poured two cups of kris. Bringing one to M’nacht, he sat down across from his friend of many years. Meeting his friend’s eyes over the steam of the cups, he spoke in a quiet, restrained tone. “Now would you care to explain to me what is going on? It’s more than those thugs who beat you and left you bleeding and broken on the floor for the security enforcers to find. Then there is the fact that you set your clockwork bot in the dock of the dash-key and took a beating you could have prevented!” He closed his eyes and struggled for control. “What did they want, M’nacht? Is Kes in danger too? By the Goddess, don’t you realize you are my family? I would die for you and Kes!” He put his cup aside and leaned forward to rest his hands lightly on his friend’s knees. “You aren’t protecting me. I am linked to you in their minds. I’d be on their list next to Kes, so at least let me know what this deadly game is all about!”

  M’nacht nodded. “I owe you that. Ordinarily this conversation wouldn’t be necessary. People like me live their entire lives not being called upon to act. Looks like that scenario isn’t mine.”

  Quin’s eyebrows rose and the words burst from his lips, “What do you mean, people like you?”

  M’nacht sighed. “Hosts for three very special navorites called Sunstones. A sacred responsibility from the goddess Navora. It’s a long story.”

  Nothing to Worry About

  The pretty woman strolled down the street with the small feminine steps that she had been taught since birth. She stopped before the large windows of the navorite shop, not to admire the sacred fossils but to check her own appearance in the reflection of the glass. She adjusted the hat on her honey-colored hair and straightened her favorite embroidered corset. Pleased that the trip to the city in her chauffeured steam car had not disturbed her fashionable ensemble, Pos’et continued to the milliners’. Her steps quickened in excitement as the shop came into sight. She’d been thinking about the darling hat she’d seen with gold embroidered navorites in a sea of velvet roses. It would be just the thing to wear for the Petal Day celebrations coming in a few days’ time.

  She grasped the shop’s brass door handle and pulled… but it didn’t open. Confused, she pulled harder before she noticed the sign pasted to the inside of the door. It was written in pretty script, but the message was tragic.

  Our dear treasured customers,

  We regret to inform you that, unexpectedly, we’re forced to close our business. All of your current orders have been completed and delivered. We are sorry for the inconvenience.

  Sincerely,

  Mahrie

  Owner of The Crowning Touch

  Pos’et stared at the sign for long moments in stunned silence. She loved this shop. With reluctant steps, she turned and left the empty store front, her mind whirling. What could have happened? She had just stopped in last week! She’d admired that darling hat and had told Mahrie she’d be back this week to get it. The friendly proprietress had assured her she’d hold it for her.

  With a determined lift of her chin, Pos’et quickened her steps to her husband’s business. Perhaps he would know what had happened to Mahrie. Within half a block, the young woman paused at the big brass doors of Therad First Financial as the doorman swung them open and bowed her into the establishment.

  With a nod to him, she breezed past the clerks with their sleeve garters and green-colored visors, their pens making soft scratching noises in their ledgers. Her long skirts swept across the marble floor as she made her way to the staircase. The silken ties of her corset swayed with her steps.

  With the barest of knocks, Pos’et opened the door and stepped inside. “T’flon!”

  Her husband lifted his head in irritation at the interruption but his features smoothed when he saw that it was his pretty wife. His assistant stepped back from the desk where they had been discussing reports and, picking up the bound registers, moved for the door.

  “Don’t go far, Steven. We need to complete those today!”

  The young man touched the rim of his green visor in a salute and stepped out into the hall.

  Rising from the desk, he approached the woman with open arms. “Pos’et. To what do I owe this unexpected visit? Your beauty brings warmth into a dreary business, but this isn’t usual for you. Is there something wrong?”

  She nodded. “You know everything that happens in Therad. Why did my favorite milliner close her business?”

  “The Crowning Touch?”

  “See! You do know! I was just there last week and she didn’t say or indicate anything wrong. What happened?”

  “Now, sweet, calm down. You know I can’t discuss someone else’s business with you. But I did see her a few days ago when I went in to get you this.” He reached behind his desk and pulled out a small hat box.

  The woman smiled at the gift and opened the lid. “Oh!” she squealed and threw her arms around his neck in a quick hug. “That’s the hat! Isn’t it perfect?” She danced a couple of steps in delight then sobered with abruptness. “Why were you in her shop, T’flon? Were you giving
her some news about her business account?” Her eyes narrowed as she studied his face. “You were, weren’t you? Oh, T’flon, you have to stop this. Too many of my favorite shops have closed. Why, just the other day I saw little Tommy, son of Babs, the florist, in the line of workers filing into the steam plant at shift change. He’s only eight! What is happening?”

  Her husband patted her shoulders reassuringly. “It will be all right. Myrn is just having a rough patch. I only follow the directives of my shareholders, and right now capital is tight. Things will work out. Don’t worry your pretty head about it.” He gave her a quick kiss, then set her at arm’s length. “Weren’t you going to have lunch with Sh’ar today? You’ll be late.”

  She nodded and turned to go. “Thank you for getting me this delightful surprise. I really wanted the hat from the time I laid eyes on it. I’ll see you at dinner, and you can tell me more about the decisions of the shareholders.” She leveled a glance at him, then, with a flounce of her skirts and a nod to Steven, who was waiting in the corridor, moved gracefully toward the stairs.

  The aide kicked the door shut behind him as he entered, and it swung closed but didn’t latch. He laid open the financial records on the desk and pushed at his sleeve garters nervously. “Sir, we really need to loosen some capital for our depositors.”

  T’flon grunted, dismissing the comment, and picked up his pen. “The money is tied up right now.”

  The young man pointed to a column on the open ledger. “But sir… it’s their money.”

  The head of the First Financial of Therad gave an abrupt shake of his head. “It’s our money. They borrow and use our money. Let me make this clear to you. The Council of Elders creates the money, which they sell to us at a very cheap price. We lend our money to the corporations, businesses and people at variable interest rates. The corporations pay a lower rate because they borrow more. Right now, most of our money is tied up in a big project the Pharma group is working on. When that project reaches maturity, we’ll make a bundle. Our business is to make money.”