Chapter 5: Orientation, Yay!

A dark, old, wrinkled man gazed through the window and down towards the gate. Just beyond a chain linked fence was the procession of new arrivals; This time, it looked like three men, a young boy, and a younger girl.

‘Was it that time of the year already? Time goes by quickly these days,’ he thought.

The old man started humming a tune as he returned his focus. A few others joined in and one even started singing. A click here, sparks flying there, push, pull, and done!

He held up the creation to let it hit the light. It was gray, metallic, and dull. Two ball joints connected by hydraulic tubes, ending in a C-shaped pinchy hand. A mechanical arm. He powered it with mana and made it wave at himself. Satisfied, he put it in a basket, next to a number of similar quality prosthetics.

He picked up the basket and headed to the counter. He submitted his quota to the guard, and went to the courtyard, joining a few older slaves.

“Sup, Taye. We was ‘boutta get a game goin’. You down?” one of them asked. He was large and bulky, but had a soft face. His skin was hard and leathery, and his white shirt and blue shorts were worn down.

“Yeah, alright. Mancala again?” Taye asked.

“Yeah, Marcel here wanted a rematch. Old coot thinks he can still get better.”

“Oh, can it, Robert.” Marcel spat. This slave was a little shorter than the other, but much more lean. His clay colored skin was decorated with numerous scars, and his artificial left eye glowed incandescently.

“Cheh. Yeah? Your crackbrain ain’t learn a thing for twenty years. Still stuck in them caves, even when you’re outside.” Robert said, smirking.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m pinnin’ to win anyways.”

“Fellas, fellas.” Taye interceded, putting his hands on the table. “Before all that. How’s our little project going?”

Marcel smiled. “Oh, here we go again. Taye always wants to talk business and act all important before having some fun.” Marcel crossed his legs and interlocked his hands and covered his mouth.

“Fine, I’ll indulge you. Two words. Ancients and worms.” he said in a gruff tone.

Taye raised his eyebrows as he began to speak, but Marcel interrupted him again, uncrossing his legs and waving his arms around.

“Only two words! You get an explanation if you win, otherwise you gotta wait ‘til next week.” Marcel said, slamming his hands on the table and rattling the mancala stones.

Robert scoffed, and Taye crossed his arms and relaxed in his chair.

‘Fine then. I got time to kill.’

Jordan and the others were loaded into a large gondola car, along with a few heavily-armed guards and some cargo. With a worrying screech of metal, the gondola started its way up. Jordan appreciated the nice view. There was something soothing about watching the world move around you. When they made it to the top, they got an even better view.

The mountain had a large crater in it, making the Summit more of a really tall caldera, without any water. The ground in the middle rose into a bowl-like shape as if something was coming out from the bottom, and the edges grew into deep trenches, with bits of stone bridges supporting the walls.

In the center was a giant statue of a man carrying a large ball on his back. The ball was incomplete though, so Jordan thought it looked more like a bunch of goo coming out of someone’s back. If he squinted hard enough, he could see miniscule scaffolding and construction materials around the statue.

Just next to it was a large central industrial building, with smaller buildings branching off of it. It could be compared to a maple leaf. The ground was lifted to make sure the buildings were all level. Jordan assumed that was the main prison building, and probably where he’d be living for the rest of his life. The slaves looked on with mixed expressions.

Finally, next to the walled off prison was a small medieval castle, complete with two towers and a large symbol of the sun. Jordan guessed it was the church.

After the checkpoint guards went over the slaves and cargo, one of them slapped all of the slaves on the head, just for fun it seemed. The gondola then continued on downwards.

“So, this is home now, huh?” Devon muttered. “We’ll be smashing rocks ‘til the end of our days. At least we got each other, ey Gaston?”

“...”

“Gaston?”

Jordan heard a sniffle and couldn’t bring himself to turn.

Sofia leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Why is he still crying?”

Jordan shrugged.

Cotis whispered something to Gaston, gesturing towards the kids, and Gaston tried to pull himself together. He stood up straight and began to speak, but immediately voice cracked and burst into tears again. Jordan swore the guards were suppressing laughter.

The gondola reached its destination shortly, and the cargo was shortly offloaded. Looking up from ground level to the statue, Jordan was able to grasp how huge the stone titan really was. It covered up a good portion of the sky. If Jordan had to guess its height, he would say about 1500 feet. And it was kneeling.

The slaves were led towards the entrance of the prison complex. The man in white robes stood in front of a large gate. He pressed a button on the side.

“This is Joseph Fotos, Level 3 access! I’ve got cargo from this month’s trade run, and this year’s slave import. Open gate 1.”

A staticy reply later, and the gates swung open. Immediately, they heard the sounds of slaves working, yelling from guards, and the roar of heavy machinery. As they were walking, slaves cheered and hollered at them from beyond the chainlinked fences that separated the entrance from the courtyard.

“Aye! New blood!”

“Welcome to the dining table, chef!”

Sofia held Jordan’s shirt as she looked around anxiously. Jordan tried to stay calm as he walked along.

“Lookin’ real shiny, brother!”

Jordan checked on Gaston and saw the most depressed look he’d ever seen on the man. Or anyone, for that matter.

Two guards opened the front doors of the large building they were heading to. Most of the guards filed out, leaving just the man in white and the two men guarding the door.

The interior of the building was quite spacious, and the lobby they were in had a few chairs and end tables. Of course, the slaves were lined up and not allowed to sit down, being chained together and all. In front, a large counter was staffed by two men, both in white robes. To the left and right were simple metal doors. Behind the counter was a large set of stairs, decorated with chiseled engravings. All in all, it was a nice and clean room.

After about five minutes, a man in decorated gold and white robes accompanied by a platoon of guards appeared. His sleeves were cut short, and his arms were decorated with gold and silver jewelry. He had a sharp face and narrow eyes. His dark skin glowed with a golden radiance, and he took each step like he had somewhere to go. His hair was braided, raised into a topknot, and tied with a golden band.

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“Good evening, slaves!” he yelled. “Welcome to the Sol Co. Summit construction camp!”

“Good evening, Sir!” Jordan replied, bowing. The other slaves, at first mortified, flusteredly returned greetings and bowed as well.

“Ha! Aye, these slaves ain’t half bad this time. Got manners, yes sir, they do,” the man said, walking down the stairs. Joseph Fotos handed him the slaves’ information when he reached the floor.

“Now then, you must be wondering who the hell I am? If my illustrious robes didn’t tip you off, I’m a big deal! In fact, I’m probably one of the top 5 people you want on your side during your stay here.”

He paused in front of Gaston.

“Ask me who I am, bald bitch.”

“Uh, y-yes. Who are you?”

“I said guess, stupid!” the man answered, punching Gaston in the stomach.

“T-the warden?” Gaston answered, groaning.

“Good guess, bald bitch!” He yelled, rubbing his head. “And wrong!” kneeing Gaston in the jaw.

“I am the vice-warden! One of two, actually! I’m vice-warden Lamar. The other vice-warden is named Anthony. The two of us oversee the slaves and guards respectively. The warden himself oversees the prison. Y’all probably won’t meet him. Ever. Likes to stay in his lab, that one. He’s named Yang.”

“Now then,” Lamar paced in front of them, stopping in front of Sofia. “Can you repeat to me what I just said?”

“Y-Yes!” Sofia answered. “You are vice-warden Lamar, and you oversee the slaves. Vice-warden Anthony oversees the, uh, guards! And, and Warden Y…..ang?” Sofia dragged, glancing at Jordan who nodded affirmatively. “Warden Yang oversees the prison.”

Lamar puffed, making Sofia blink and flinch. “You a smart lil’ bunny. I like you. That’s correct. But.”

Lamar turned to Jordan.

“Who the hell are you, Jacky? Why she look at you, huh? You beat it so hard, your arm fell off? Huh?”

Jordan gulped and said, “My name is Jordan Valencia, Sir!”

“I asked you what the hell happened to your arm, yah crippled wacko!” Lamar yelled, kicking Gaston who just got up.

Jordan wondered what Gaston did to make everyone so mad.

“I…I think a slaver cut it off, sir!”

“You think!?”

“Yes!”

Lamar went silent, and stared at Jordan for a few seconds.

“Well. I guess that’s what happened then,” Lamar said, in a completely relaxed tone.

“Anyhow, slaves. You’ve gotta tour your new home don’t you? Follow me y’all.” Lamar did a double take, and told Cotis and Devon to pick up Gaston, who was still clutching his shin on the floor.

Lamar led them to the left door and opened it. Six slaves looked up from their workbenches, and quickly resumed their work when a guard yelled at them. Stairs leading up lined the back wall.

“This is the crafting branch. We usually make whatever we need here, including our tools, equipment, and medical supplies.”

Jordan couldn’t help but notice Sofia look around curiously, before they were led to the next room.

Inside the room was a bright and sterile feeling room, with clean beds, a check-in station, and a door in the back.

“This is the medical ward. It also doubles as our medicine production room.”

They were led to the far right room, and Lamar opened the door excitedly, revealing… a warehouse full of boxes and empty space.

“This is our storage room. We use it as parking for our mining and building vehicles too, which are being used.”

Next, the slaves went up the stairs and entered the room on the right. It was full of hundreds of beds, and not much else.

“These are the slave quarters, and don’t worry about picking a bed. We assign them for your convenience.” Lamar said, winking. “There’s bathrooms with showers just outside the backdoor.”

Jordan felt worried. He was a fifteen year old boy who needed his privacy after all.

Moving to the room in the middle, the doors were already open. It was another long room with a bunch of benches and tables lined up in rows. In the middle was a large kitchen area.

“Welcome to the mess hall. Slaves get the backside of the room, and guards get the inside. Don’t mess that up, or you’ll be eating your own teeth,” Lamar chuckled.

Finally, the last room upstairs on the left was the guards quarters. It had actual rooms, as well as slaves cleaning them.

“Alright! We’re done with the tour. How was it, everyone?” Lamar asked.

“Very good, Sir!” Jordan replied, unsure of why he felt so sure about himself.

“Good, Sir,” the other slaves replied quickly.

“Good, good. If you’re still confused about what you’ll be doing here, well… just do what the other slaves are doing. Anyway, it’s time to assign jobs.” Lamar glanced at the stat sheet, and began.

“Marcus D. Cotis, Devon L’Essex, both of you’re joining the orderly team.”

Cotis and Devon glanced at each other, before leaving with a random guard towards the storage area.

“Gascony White, building team. Heh, good luck baldie.”

Gaston winced, and followed a guard towards the kitchen.

“Sofia Zoloto, crafting team.”

Sofia glanced at Jordan before leaving with a guard to join the crafters.

“Jordan Valencia, mining team.” Lamar looked up. “But before that, someone get this fool a new arm,” he said, writing something on a slip before handing it to a guard.

Jordan nodded, and followed the guard.

The guard took Jordan to the medical ward and explained the situation to the counter worker, handing him Lamar’s slip. The worker led Jordan to a bed, and entered the room in the back.

He returned with a metallic arm, quite skinny and crude in design, with what looked like three joints; shoulder, elbow, wrist, and a C-shaped hand. Another middle-aged slave with a lab coat followed him, pushing a small table-cart thing. It held a strange metal cup with circuits and wires visible, a syringe, and various knives.

“Good evening, uh… Jordan is it? My name is Doctor Wunsler. I’ll be performing a bio-arm transplant on you today. Let’s see… woah! 154 Soul? You’re a strong one aren’t you?”

Jordan smiled sheepishly. “Yes Sir, I’ve been learning since I was just three years old.”

“Three huh? Your training certainly shows results.”

“Hehe, thanks Doc.”

“Now, does it hurt when I touch you here?” the doctor asked, poking Jordan’s stump.

“Er, yes Sir, a little.”

“Okay, and can you still use mana in that arm?”

“Yes Sir,” Jordan replied, coating his stump with mana.

“Right then. Let’s get these bandages off and get you secure.”

Jordan was promptly tied down with belts attached to the bed, as the doctor unwrapped Jordan’s stump. It still looked really nasty, and Jordan didn’t really want to look at it.

“Oh wow. This was a clean cut, straight through the bone. Who’d you fight to give you a wound this bad, a Blue Guard commander?” Dr. Wunsler joked.

“I… I don’t really remember, Sir. I think it was from slavers?”

“Slavers huh? I thought they use clubs to knock people out. Blades are too deadly to be profitable. Anyways. I’m going to stick this lil’ adapter on you. It’ll help you get used to having a mechanical arm, and it’ll be easier to replace the arm should it get damaged.”

Dr. Wunsler picked up his knife and leaned forward, alarming Jordan.

“Wait, Doc? Aren’t you going to put me to sleep first?” Jordan asked nervously.

“Pff, no. Your stats are high enough that you won’t die of shock or blood loss so get over it. Gotta save this baby for people who need it.” Dr. Wunsler replied, putting on ear plugs.

“What? Don’t I nee- AAAAGHH!”

The good doctor sliced and stabbed Jordan in the stump multiple times. He looped the veins and arteries together using tweezers and stitches, sticking the tools through the openings he made. Then he stuck the adapter on, plugged the nerves into the adapter, and finally bandaged the connection. All in about fifteen minutes, with Jordan screaming the whole time. He was a good doctor.

“There we go, all done.” Dr. Wunsler said, wincing as he took his earplugs off. “Damn boy, shut the hell up!”

Jordan immediately became quiet. Dr. Wunsler raised his eyebrow, and shrugged.

“Alright, now I’ll just take off the shoulder joint, adjust this, plug it in… and you’re done! Congratulations.”

Jordan blinked, a little confused, before trying to move his arm. He raised his arm up, only for it to swing down and bop him in the nose.

“Ow.”

“You have to run your mana through it in order to power it.”

“Oh.”