Sunstone: A Steampunk Reality

by Holly Barbo

  “Sir, take a moment and sip some of this. You’ve been working too hard. Perhaps you should go home and rest in the presence of your pretty wife. Please take a breath and relax. I would never change interest rates without your authorization. You sent me a message through our secure system within the bank. No one but you knows my private code. The directive came in three nights ago on my dash-key to lower the small business and private loans to the same rate as our corporate clients. I followed your instructions.”

  The president of the company wheezed. “Do you still have the recording?”

  “Of course, sir. The packet bot collected it and stored it in your vault.”

  The older man took a handkerchief out of his vest pocket and wiped his face. “I’ll check that in a minute. Can you tell me what major transactions have occurred in the last two days?”

  “Yes, sir.” Steven reached for the open ledger he’d been working on when T’flon had burst into the room. “Only one hundred and forty-seven people came in and paid off their loan with their savings. Each mentioned that, without the lower interest rate, they just wouldn’t have had enough to do it. Most cleaned out their savings, but the loans are cleared. Two depositors came in and withdrew the money in their accounts.” The young man frowned. “Those were sizable withdrawals and had nothing to do with the interest rate change.”

  T’flon’s face now became chalky. “Who withdrew their money?”

  “Ver’in and Sh’ar of the Chemedco family.” Concerned, Steven stepped to the door and called for someone to get a driver. “Sir, you really need to go home and call a doctor. You aren’t looking well.”

  It was midafternoon before Kes had time to read the article all the way through. The writer made some very logical points. It began by cautioning against violence and commended the gathering and protests that had been peaceful. Kes agreed with Thom, though. The people he’d seen gathering at night were becoming increasingly fractious. He could feel the tension in the air almost like just before lightning would strike. It was an unsettling analogy.

  The second paragraph gave focus to direct the people’s energies.

  Our government was formed to facilitate the protection, safety, pursuit of happiness and prosperity for the common good of the people, not for the profit or private interest of any individual, family or class in our society. The people have the incontestable right to form a government and to reform the same when their protection, safety, pursuit of happiness and prosperity require it. This is where we need to shine a light in this hour of darkness. Reforms are needed, and too long has the good of the people been ignored. Change doesn’t happen until the people demand it. I urge you to do so without violence. If our voices are loud, insistent and forceful enough, we will be heard.

  Demand truth from our newspapers and the elders in our Council. Are there really rogue shaman groups and are they in league with manipulative scientists, or are these things just fabrications to distract attention away from what they do not want you to see?

  Demand reforms of the Council of Elders: Stop the contributions, gifts, favors and lobbying above the amount of five kronots. The elders were elected to serve and represent the people—not to get wealthy. Regulations need to have teeth and inspectors to oversee safeguards in our factories and steam plants.

  With all the strength in your voices, insist on repairing the broken banking system that has given us predatory practices such as high interest rates, hidden fees and terminating loans without due process. Close the loophole of the default insurance. It allows the financial syndicate to operate without risk. We all have risk. It is what sharpens our judgment and encourages our honesty.

  There are many businesses and individuals who are decent and trustworthy. Waves of violence would injure the innocent as well as the corrupt. Do not be guilty of harming the virtuous or you are no better than those who have hurt and destroyed your hope. Restrain your anger but not your voices. Yell at the top of your lungs. Demand to be heard.

  “Whew!” muttered Kes as he folded the paper. He finished the small bottle of juice he’d had with his late lunch.

  Jordan sat down beside him on the step. “I see you read the article.”

  Kes nodded. “I have a feeling I know the author of it. Everything in this piece,” he slapped the paper in emphasis, “is accurate. I’m not sure if he is diffusing or inciting, though. I sincerely believe he was trying to focus the people’s energies but there are many ready to burn everything down just because they have so much fire inside them. The word on the street about the drop in interest rates has helped, but some have already lost everything. The lowered rate means nothing to a man without hope or a woman who has lost her child to the grinding gears of the steam plant. Jordan, I fear this may have come too late.”

  The burly man slapped his hand on Kes’s shoulder and squeezed. “There are more things in the works, but you’re right, timing is everything. Navora gave you three special tools, but that’s all they are. As marvelous and magical as those gifts are, when all is said and done, it still comes back to the fact that she also gave us self-determination. We have to try and pray for the best.”

  Kes nodded and stood. “I’m going to be circulating amongst the people in the evenings. Hopefully, I can encourage the reasonable part.”

  “Good idea. I’ll be here too.”

  Ignition

  The day had been hot under a cloudless sky. When the shift workers emerged from the dark holes of the factories into the evening air, there was no relief from the oppressive atmosphere. Not even a hint of a breeze stirred the steam that puffed from the factory stacks. City buildings which had stood all day absorbing the heat now radiated it back into the twilight. In the muggy evening, clothing clung to sweaty bodies and hair stuck to faces. There wasn’t one person who was comfortable.

  The night security man let Kes out of the old science building and locked up. His tarnished goggles hung loosely around his neck, and the sweat band on his forehead was damp. Slinging his pack over his shoulder, he headed back to the workers’ dorm. The young man flexed his shoulders under the strap of the bag and felt sticky sweat trickle down his back. Oh, what he wouldn’t give for a ten-minute swim through the cool waters of the coral reef. He grimaced. He’d probably leave a grease and sweat slick on the surface, but it would feel wonderful.

  Pulling his mind away from the discomfort, Kes went in search of a food cart with juice or ale, mindful of Thom’s cautions. He was standing near the wagon, drinking his second lukewarm ale, when the spectacled gleaner stepped up to his side. “What’s your read on the crowd? Do you think that article helped settle people down?” Kes asked the older man.

  “It doesn’t feel good. This heat is making everyone irritable.” Thom took off his spectacles and fished around in his tattered vest pockets for a relatively clean handkerchief to wipe them. “Yeah, it helped in a way. It focused some of the general anger. It’s a logical and rational piece of writing. But the mood on the street now… it’s neither of those things. This heat… it makes people itchy. Watch out for yourself tonight. Don’t do anything heroic and stupid!”

  Kes finished his drink and handed the empty cup back to the vender. Stepping out into the street, he approached the first cluster of people. The groups were mixed: light-colored shirts, vests and sleeve garters of the clerks and accountants, newsy caps or sweat bands over grubby work wear with suspenders and goggles for the factory workers. Women were present, too, wearing much of the same as the men but with corsets.

  He listened to the grumbled, anger-filled venting. When he could, he brought up the points of the article. Everyone had read it but many were expressing doubt that any change would happen without something radical to make the Council pay attention.

  As he drifted from group to group, he could feel the anger feeding on itself… building… He was near the edge of the crowd when he spotted Jordan talking earnestly to another group close to the center. Reversing his direction, he worked his way into hearing distance
.

  “Babs, I heard about Tommy. There are many things wrong that have to be fixed. Burning things down won’t bring them back. That last bit in the article said it all. ‘There are many businesses and individuals who are decent and trustworthy. Waves of violence would injure the innocent as well as the corrupt. Do not be guilty of harming the virtuous or you are no better than those who have hurt and destroyed your hope. Restrain your anger but not your voices. Yell at the top of your lungs. Demand to be heard.’”

  Babs shook her head. “We tried protesting outside the Council building. Nobody listened. We asked to get inside to see the elders. We did elect them to represent us and we pay taxes, but that doesn’t matter. Jordan, I respect you, but I don’t care anymore what happens to me. I have nobody left. They’ve all died.”

  There were voices in the area. “Yeah!”

  “I agree. We have nothing left. Not even hope. I stand with Babs.”

  “Jordan, I don’t know who wrote that piece. It was good and I’d like to shake their hand, but Babs is right. The Council isn’t listening to us.”

  Kes stepped a bit closer and said, “But if we riot, there are good people and decent businesses who will be hurt.”

  “What do you know about it? We’ve already been hurt. Can’t get any worse!” said a voice.

  Kes kept his voice calm even though he was getting frustrated. “I, too, have lost family members. Some are dead and others are missing. My father knew M’nacht. He’s a good man, and what about the cog-kings? They treat people well. Even inside some of the companies that we don’t like, there are individuals that are trying to make changes such as what the article outlined. If we see things as them-and-us or black-and-white you are discounting—endangering—the people who are risking everything behind the scenes to set things right!”

  The last word had barely left his lips when glass shattered off to his left. The brittle noise rippled through the crowd and in its wake a growl built. The simmering anger exploded and, within a heartbeat, the small clusters of people became a mob. Bodies surged together. Pushing. Crushing. Kes battled against the current, struggling to get free. The human flood carried him farther down the street. Frantic to get away, he fought the crush but it was inescapable. Raised fists. A roar of confusion. He tripped on something soft and knew he was trampling a person, but it was too late. Falling… his head was below the shoulders of the crowd. He was being sucked under.

  Kes felt his left arm being grabbed. He struggled to get his feet beneath him against the push of the crowd. His left arm was pinned against someone. The clamor was deafening. More glass broke. Aether lamp globes shattered, hiding faces in shadows. The smell of smoke. Fire flickering to his right. Harsh shouts from somewhere ahead. He flowed with the mass of people and glanced to see who had his arm. Firelight glittered on spectacles. Thom’s face didn’t resemble a school teacher’s anymore; cuts and bruises painted his face. Kes couldn’t hear anything over the faceless swarm. He was in the current but now leaning toward Thom. Their elbows were locked together. Slowly, they were being carried to the edge of the teeming mob. Suddenly, his right arm was seized. Jordan had made it to them. They weren’t free of being crushed, but closer to a wall. A doorway was ahead. Thom’s hand grabbed the curve of the handle as the rush of people pushed forward. Anchored, the three stayed and the flood surged away.

  Ahead of the bricked entry they were taking refuge against, a building was burning. Across the street more windows shattered and soon the flickering light of fire could be seen behind the jagged glass.

  Breaking contact with Kes, Thom leaned forward and put both hands on his knees, sucking air.

  Jordan tapped him on the shoulder. “Breathe later, Thom. We’ve got to get out of here.”

  The gleaner nodded and stood. “Where’s that place you manage for M’nacht?”

  “Next to the one that just got its windows broken. If we’re going there, we had better start before we are spotted. Walk casually. Don’t run. We’re going around back. Follow me.”

  “Better walk fast,” Kes insisted, “They’re bringing in some kind of big clockwork engines.”

  They began to cross the wide boulevard. Halfway to their refuge, the mob’s roar changed. Screams of pain and outrage colored the cacophony. A heavy fog seemed to obscure the individuals within the surging human mass.

  Jordan picked up speed.

  Kes growled, “Put your goggles on and move! Those machines are lobbing tear gas!

  “Cover your nose and mouth!”

  They just made the wall of the building when tendrils of the stinging mist reached them in the wake of escaping rioters. Jordan ducked into a side door with Kes and Thom on his heels. Where the gas touched their skin, it burned. They tried to move quickly while barely breathing as it seared the membranes of their nose, mouth and throat. Thom, who didn’t have goggles, was blinded by the burning pain in his eyes; all three were choking and snot ran out their noses as their sinuses reacted. Each fought the urge to retch. It was imperative they get away from the gas which floated it their wake!

  “Jordan, help me lift Thom. We need to get away from this door.”

  The two men each grabbed an arm and carried the blinded man to the lift. The gleaner collapsed on the floor while Kes worked the crank to the gears and pulleys. Following Jordan’s direction, they arrived at a small apartment in the upper floors of the building. They could hear the battle continuing on the street as the maddened rioters fought security forces. Kes got some soapy water and washed Thom’s face and hands repeatedly to remove any of the burning chemical. Jordan found a bottle of saline that Quin had forgotten when he and M’nacht left and rinsed the gleaner’s eyes.

  Once he could see, Thom waved the two away brusquely. “Fine. Fine. I don’t need your mollycoddling! See to yourselves. Make sure you get that off any exposed skin.”

  Kes reached into his pocket and tossed the gleaner a tube. “Spread this on your cuts, bruises and any burns you have from the tear gas.” He followed Jordan to the shadows of the window and looked down.

  The security police were all in black. They wore hoods and goggles to protect themselves from the gas but the anonymity of the clothing made them seem alien. They were subduing any recalcitrant rioter who hadn’t run off. There were bodies lying in the street—those who had been trampled and some writhing in helpless pain from the chemical burns. One of the fallen was a woman.

  Jordan spoke. His voice filled with sorrow. “That’s Babs. I recognize that striped corset.” He looked into Kes’s eyes. “She used to be the chaperone for Elder Rune’s young niece, Marova. When she fell and broke her leg, she was fired. She worked hard and built up a floral business, but when Therad Financial pulled her loan unexpectedly, she closed her doors. Two weeks ago her husband died of burns from an accident in the metallurgy plant. She buried him the day her son was crushed at the steam facility.” He shook his head. “Such a tragedy.”

  On the street, teams were working on putting out the flaming buildings, hoping to prevent the fire from spreading.

  Thom walked up to the men. The damage to his face was already healing. “What is that stuff?”

  Kes smiled and, taking the tube from the gleaner, spread the cream on his cuts before handing it to Jordan. “It’s something my department has been working on. It’s a secret.”

  “You’ve several secrets, don’t you? Such as, I don’t think your name is Rus and you aren’t a young laborer from the countryside, are you?” Thom glared at him.

  “No, I’m not. I’m sorry to deceive you. My name is Kes. I’m M’nacht’s adopted son, and if certain people learned my true identity, I would be dead.”

  Reaction

  The next morning, all of Therad and the nearby communities had heard about the riot. The reactions were mixed: outrage with the thirst to find the perpetrators and punish them, fear of the lawlessness and concern about the safety for the regular citizens and businesses, acceptance that the rioters had taken the first step with th
e hope that the Council would now listen, and solidarity combined with a desire to join in the movement to be heard.

  The flames were out and building owners had crews repairing the damage and replacing the windows. Some businesses were closed because the fires had caused significant loss. A pall hung over the area. The old science annex closed for the day. No one wanted to come into the Four Corners, so after a check for damage, Kes’s supervisor paid him for the work he’d done that week and sent him away with the admonishment to stay out of trouble and return after the twi-day cycle.

  With the unexpected freedom, Kes stuffed his soiled sweatband into his pack and, slipping the newsy cap on, he started the walk across the sector to M’nacht’s office. Last night, as the three men eased into the shadows of the street to disappear in their separate directions, Jordan had remarked how Kes was still unrecognizable as the young scientist. His identity as Rus protected him. Not wanting to press his luck, he stopped at a street vender and purchased three used books and a newspaper. While the vender tied his purchase together with string, he read the front page, looking to see what was said about the riot. He thanked the bookseller and continued down the street with his acquisition.

  When he arrived at the office building, he removed the cap in respect as he asked to see Dylan. Frea, with her long red hair braided back from her face and multi-lensed goggles perched on her head, met him at the counter. Before she led him to her boss’s office, the young woman gave him a scrutinizing look. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t place a name on him. At the door, she leaned in and said to her boss, “There is a young man here who would like to speak with you.”