Spinning Wheels: Mecha Origin 3

by Eve Langlais

  “More like losing your shirt again.”

  “And so what if I did? I have another on the ship.”

  “What if I said I had a way for us to find riches that would ensure you could gamble and never have to do the walk of shame back to the ship?” It should be noted Ray never acted ashamed when he strutted, naked as the day he was born, after having lost everything in a game of chance. Ray had no problem giving every last stitch of clothing, saying the sight of his body usually encouraged those of feminine persuasion to invite him into their beds for a freebie.

  He and Ray hadn’t exactly settled down yet with a permanent partner. And maybe they never would. It wasn’t as if they had much time for a relationship, given they spent most of it hunting for new mechanical parts.

  Ray no longer had to be dragged. “That much money, eh? I’m intrigued. Tell me more.”

  “Not out in the open where anyone can hear us. Let’s get somewhere private first.”

  That entailed going back to where he’d docked his ship, the only truly safe place Zak knew. But he didn’t immediately reply when the door sealed behind them and Ray barked, “So, what’s the scam?”

  “Hold on, let me check for any listeners.” Having a ship docked didn’t protect it from spies. Most ports had an extensive spy network that sold information to the highest bidder.

  Zak ran two scans to see if anyone had planted any electronic devices or surprises. Then he did a check for biological entities before he finally gave in to Ray’s snapped, “If I’d have known it would take this long, I would have stayed and played a while longer.”

  “Patience. I’m almost done.”

  “Frukx that.” Ray slammed into Zak and pinned him to the floor, an arm braced over his neck, his knee jamming into his stomach. “Speak now.”

  He could have tussled a while longer, possibly even won, but Zak knew Ray only jumped him because he couldn’t contain his excitement. Zak finally told his partner his epic plan. “We are going to buy ourselves a woman.”

  Ray blinked a few times, his eyes a very pale blue. “I thought we didn’t believe in slavery.”

  “We don’t. And she won’t exactly be a slave. My plan is to give her freedom so long as she helps line our accounts with credits.”

  “I don’t know if I’m comfortable whoring someone out to get rich.”

  Zak gaped. “What? No. I would never—Why would you—?” He shook his head. “We aren’t selling her to other people for sex. The woman we’re going to buy is the answer we’ve been looking for. The solution to all our financial woes. To maybe even joining the ranks of the super elite as Mechanized Icons.” The superstars of the Siyborgh race.

  From birth, they were taught that the more metal you bore within your body, the closer to a god you became. The most adapted were revered in their culture. Worshipped, especially by females.

  Ray’s brown skin crinkled in confusion. “How is buying a slave supposed to accomplish this impossible feat?”

  “Because she is not just any slave. The one we’ll buy is a seer.” Which took a moment to explain as Zak laid out his wonderful plan. Brilliant really.

  Ray, overcome by the beautiful simplicity of it, said nothing for a moment. Then exclaimed, “You’re insane.”

  “My mental health cog is spinning perfectly fine.” Zak tapped his temple.

  “You need to get it checked because there is a lot of crazy in your idea. You want us to visit the Obsidian slave market and bet all our money on some seer you’ve never met because of a rumor you heard in a bar that made you think, if we ask her to look into the past, back when the Mecha Gods existed, she can lead us to the lost temples and a treasure trove of gears.”

  Summarized in a way that only showcased the elegant nature of his plan. Zak beamed. “Exactly!”

  “It’s insane.”

  “You only think that because no one ever thought to do it before. But I did. And we”— Zak pointed to Ray then himself—“are going to reap the reward.”

  “Exactly how do you plan for us to buy her?” Ray arched a brow. “Or have you forgotten we’re both low on funds.”

  A valid point. Ray had his gambling and fashionable tastes siphoning at his savings, whereas Zak enjoyed upgrades. Not just to his body—although he did have quite an intricate set of gears and cogs spinning within. His passion for spending started with his ship, a modernized marvel full of every possible convenience. Where his sister preferred old mechanical engines and drove a very retro zeppelin without a single microchip or computer on board, he embraced technology.

  Everything on his ship could be controlled by the simple press of a button, or—if having a day where all he wanted to do was lie in bed—a voice command from him or Ray would also do the trick, so long as they were very explicit in their instructions. Telling the ship to fly itself required coordinates. The time they spent caught in the dust galaxy, unable to see and even the finest filters unable to prevent all the silt particles getting into the ship, had led to them being more concise.

  “I can take out a loan against the ship.” And he’d get a sizeable sum, too, given the upgrades.

  “Use the ship as collateral? Oh no.” Ray shook his head. “I thought we said that was the one thing we’d never do.”

  Because if they lost the Solar Eclipse, their gear-hunting days would be over, and Ray would have to ask Ursy—his bratty, annoying younger sister—for help. If it came to that, he’d rather retire.

  This opportunity was too good to pass up. “Just this once, we’ll make an exception.”

  “It’s a big risk,” Ray warned.

  “It is. So, what do you say?”

  Was it any surprise Ray, the consummate gambler, grinned and said, “I’m in!”

  They had a few full turns of the cog before the auction for this supposed seer. Given the market always tried to fetch the best price, the sale of goods, including live ones, had some lead time to ensure the right buyers were present to place a bid.

  Spending most of the time on board his ship, Zak did his best to plan while keeping an eye on the thick traffic arriving and departing in a near constant stream. Catering to vice was big business, and the Obsidian Market excelled in offering the illegal and corrupt for a price.

  It proved only too easy to secure a loan against his ship, the staggering amount of credits in his account nerve wracking. Zak loved the Eclipse. Like loved as in he’d marry it and have its little ship babies if he was allowed. But there were laws against that in most galaxies.

  The affection for his vessel was part of the reason why he’d never used it in a scheme before. However, this chance couldn’t be ignored. If he could find an ancient Mecha God temple…Maybe, he could adopt a little ship or two and have a family. Not that he was orphaned. Living parents and a sister, plus the friends he’d known since his youth, meant he wasn’t technically alone.

  But his life still missed something. The only true thrill he got was from improving himself and the Eclipse. If one vessel made him happy, then surely two would fill the hole within.

  With the auction yet to occur, Ray spent their waiting time playing the odds, and losing badly, returning to the ship on one occasion with just his boots. Nice boots, with a glossy shine.

  Too soon, not soon enough, it was time for the auction. Time to put his plan in motion.

  Zak could barely contain his excitement as he headed for the auction floor level in the space station housing the Obsidian Market. An abandoned mining station, it was converted into a multi-level market catering to every imaginable vice.

  Once there, he signaled for Ray, who joined him with a scowl.

  “What’s wrong?” Zak asked.

  “I ran into Wulff on the way here.” A friend of theirs.

  “Was he with my sister?” Ever since their last mission as a crew, Wulff had been tagging along with Ursy, making him either the bravest or dumbest male he knew. His sister could be a touch acerbic.

  “Nah, just Wulff. He wanted to know what I wa
s doing here.”

  “Did you tell him?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Good, because last thing we need is for him to tell Ursy and have her march in here to give us a wire lashing.” Zak was in no mood to deal with his sister. She’d hate his plan on principle, and he didn’t need a lecture, especially since she liked to talk with her fists.

  “Why do you think I kept my mouth shut? But we’ll have to tell them something if it works.”

  “Don’t worry. If we pull this off, I’ll honor the pact and split the proceeds.” Zak referred to the agreement they’d come to after raiding the workshop of Marius Snype, a creator of specialized cogs. During that mission, the treasure they targeted—known as the God Gear—escaped in the belly of fifty drones. As a group they’d sworn to hunt them down and share the profit. Thus far, they’d found only one.

  “We’ll share, but only if we find pieces of Snype’s creations. Anything else is finders’ keepers.” Ray grinned, and Zak matched it.

  “Although, if we find as much as I hope”—say like a temple full of treasure—“then we’ll have enough to be generous with our friends and family.”

  All they had to do was get their hands on the seer first.

  The main concourse for the slave auction consisted of a large open space ringed in thick pillars rising from the floor, the better to put merchandise on display. It took only a moment to orient himself and figure out which pillar they wanted. He and Ray took up a position near to the wall with an excellent view of where the action would play out.

  Their first glimpse of their target proved anticlimactic. She emerged from a beaded curtain without music or fanfare onto a pedestal. Her frame slight, features hidden by the deep cowl of her white robe. The hem of it touched the floor, just like the sleeves hung over her arms and hands, if she had hands. Could be claws or pinchers for all he knew.

  With little to see on the outside, Zak dropped his goggles over his eyes from their spot in the brim of his bowler hat to get a deeper look, the filtering lens searching for signs of metal, the shape of a weapon perhaps strapped or even embedded within her body.

  None on the female, or even the rotund figure that waddled out by her side. Glancing lower showed the crowd proved mostly armed, which was expected in a place like this. The Obsidian Market had a tendency of gobbling up the weak.

  By his side, Ray showed several blotches of metal on his person, his gun and knife being only two reasons. He also had glowing green chunks in his ear, throat, chest…the cogs he’d taken into his body to enhance and bring him close to mechanical perfection.

  If the gamble with the seer paid off, soon they’d both be Mecha Icons with privileges in the temple.

  “Bidding will begin on Item XXYICC994,” boomed a voice, quieting the crowd.

  Zak only paid the slightest attention to the auctioneer. He’d already read the sales pitch and memorized it.

  Race: Unknown.

  Possibilities: Albino Arresotle, Siyborgh. Human from Earth or a slave colony.

  Given the lack of cogs in her body? Definitely not Siyborgh. Everyone took at least one cog when they came of age. A barbarian human? Also seemed unlikely, given the ability to see was an ability held by only the more advanced races.

  Galaxy of Origin: Unknown.

  Which proved interesting. Was it because she refused to tell, or had she come from an as yet undiscovered area? Alternate universes with entirely different sets of galaxies had a tendency of suddenly appearing.

  Age: Undetermined

  Age only mattered when it came to meat. Some chefs preferred young flesh for their recipes. Others didn’t care, but the stringiness of something past its prime would affect price.

  Characteristics: Female as defined by the standard of carrying of progeny. Bipedal in motion. Mostly hairless. Non-hypoallergenic. Dual appendages with adept fingers. Genetically unmodified. Parasite and disease free.

  Nothing about the fact that she could see the future, decipher the past. Yet, obviously he wasn’t the only one who had heard the rumor. A buzzing crowd surrounded her pedestal, sometimes snickering, mostly as they bandied around one particular theme. “If she’s truly a seer, then how did she get captured?”

  Having done his research on seers while waiting on this moment, Zak knew that often those with the ability to view the future couldn’t see their own. Or did they manipulate it to their own ends?

  Looking at the frail form hunched on the dais, he couldn’t see that being the case. Surely, she would never have chosen to be sold like mere chattel.

  “The bidding will start at five million credits.” A very high price that sent a few beings grumbling as they left the area.

  “Starting at five? That doesn’t bode well,” muttered Ray.

  “We’ve got the credits to bid. Don’t worry.” Brave words, especially since Ray’s ominous prediction proved true. The price went well above what they could afford. The amount she eventually sold for could have bought a small galaxy.

  The gavel banged one final time, selling the seer to an Ymp, who sauntered past, his ruddy skin mostly denuded, his genitals barely covered by his fur loincloth. Where there was one, a legion usually lingered.

  Zak put his hand over his wrist, covering his identity chip, preventing access to his funds. The Ymp were known troublemakers.

  And so was Wulff apparently. Their friend waylaid them after the auction, trying to discern why they’d been interested in a seeress. They lied. But in their defence, so did Wulff.

  Ray eyed their big friend as he left the auction area. “He’s after something.”

  “So are we.” Zak eyed the door through which the woman disappeared.

  “Not anymore we’re not. We’ll need to hunt for some new clues. At least we still have the ship,” remarked Ray.

  “Giving up already?” Zak angled his head.

  “We lost the auction.”

  “True, buying the seer didn’t work, which means we’ll have to move on to the backup plan.”

  “We have a backup plan?” Ray murmured with surprise.

  “Of course we do,” Zak said as he walked toward the now empty pedestal.

  “Care to share that plan?”

  “We’re going to steal that seer.”

  4

  Steal that seer. Zak uttered it with such nonchalance. Right then and there, Ray should have said no.

  He’d not been comfortable with the idea of buying someone and using them. Relief had filled him when their original plan failed.

  But Zak wasn’t about to give up. “All we need is to get backstage and cause a distraction.”

  Ray hustled close to his friend’s back and murmured, “This is not a good idea.”

  “You haven’t even heard the details yet.”

  “I don’t have to because this is doomed to fail.”

  Zak offered a grin that got him into trouble more times than he could count. “Have some faith. The Mecha Gods won’t let us down.”

  The claim brought a groan. They were so screwed. Yet he still didn’t leave Zak’s side, not even when they approached the sealed door leading to a market employee-only section.

  A guard stood by it, a tusked fellow who would probably do more damage with those sharpened tines than the sword by his hip. “You don’t have permission to be here,” he grunted.

  “Excuse me, but given how much my master just paid to buy that last item, you are mistaken if you think I’m letting her out of my sight.” Zak snapped his fingers and gave a quick jerk of his head.

  Ray hastened to add credence. “Our mighty Ymp lord is not someone you should mess with.”

  “Clients and their staff are to go that way.” The guard pointed to a crowded entrance that required passing a checkpoint.

  Zak sighed. “I really wish you’d just opened the cogged thing.” He moved away from the guard and eyed Ray as he whispered, “Did you get that thing I asked for?”

  “Yeah.” Despite the oddity, he knew better than to ask que
stions. He retrieved the small box from his pocket, the stone on it warm to the touch.

  “Get it ready.”

  Ray slid open the lid on the stone box, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. From it oozed a clear jelly blob. It was just the size of a finger, a chunk trimmed off an adult Glub and not yet full power, but hungry.

  “Don’t touch it,” Zak warned as the glob puddled in his palm.

  “I know.” Ray flung the jelly chunk at the guard, and it hit him in the face.

  Not hard enough to harm, but it immediately brought a yelled, “What the…Ohh. Ohhh.” The groan deepened as the guard sank to his knees, the blob inching across his flesh, the enzymes it excreted leaving erotic pleasure behind. A full-grown Glub could cause an instant orgasm. More if you immersed yourself in their gelatinous aphrodisiac flesh.

  The guard’s distraction allowed Zak to approach the door and place his hand on the access panel while Ray kept watch for anyone else who tried to interfere.

  Zzzzz.

  The panel glitched as Zak sent a jolt of electricity through it. The portal slid open, leading to the staging area of the slave auctions. In public, the sales might appear organized, but the scene behind the closed door and away from the display pedestals proved a different thing.

  Entering, they found themselves amidst pandemonium with auctioneers booming as they practiced for their next sale. Bonuses were paid to those who got more than the expected price. Those who got less? Their tongues made up the difference when sold to a chef for a prized dish.

  The cages of those about to be put on the block lined the hall on the left, varying in size depending on the occupant, while on the right were penned those who’d just found new owners. The living merchandise moved up or down a conveyer belt, depending on their status of pending or sold. Those who’d found a buyer headed for the checkout, where the credits paid would result in the handover of the merchandise.

  A cold way of handling the life and freedom of sentient beings. It made Ray’s skin crawl to see the bodies behind bars. Some of the cells were crowded by those who knew they’d outlived their worth and now waited with their heads bowed, resigned to a fate that would result in them becoming a part of a stew pot. Given their low value, older slaves tended to be sold in bulk to whatever chef happened to want cheap, sentient meat. There were many who would pay dearly for that outlawed practice.