People had fantasies about what it was like to explore the Triangle. It had become an instant topic of fiction and movies, and those depictions had converged on certain cliches. Giant storms, those were big. Mutinies, very common. A stowaway who earns the respect and, ultimately, love of the captain was so universal that SNL had done a sketch about a version of Tinder designed to make those matches happen.

So far, none of that had been true, not that she’d expected it to be. Maybe some of the fundamental beats — she had set sail, met challenges, returned. But there wasn’t anything that had made her go, “Oh, this is just like the movies.”

Until now, because this looked like where they shot the scenes from the action movies where people bought the special weapons that would allow them to behead a kraken or whatever. There were a bunch of ostentatious sword and spears surrounding the door, and there was even a skull and bones on the sides of the nameplate displaying “Steel and Thunder” in black lettering.

Adelaide looked over at Ray. “This is the dumbest place you have ever brought me. Please tell me we are not about to spend our money on an axe called ‘The Nightbringer’ or a ruby-plated six-foot sniper rifle.”

Ray scowled. “Sometimes I wonder what you must think of me to ask me that. But don’t let the appearance fool you.”

“You’re saying this is not dumb?”

“Oh, no, it’s extremely dumb. But that’s to lure in dumb people and take their money. Doesn’t mean we can’t make some actual money here.”

Adelaide was glad that Ray didn’t even attempt to lead her through the showroom — she wasn’t sure she could have kept her eyes from rolling out of her head if she had experienced a sales pitch from this place. Instead, they walked around back and through a door labeled “Procurements.” There was a secretary reading a magazine who gave Ray a nod as they walked into a lab.

Adelaide hadn’t realized how much she’d missed that lab energy until the door closed behind her. It was that certain mix of noise and quiet — people too engrossed in their own projects to talk while machines hummed and clicked. And then people would get bored and all start chatting, and then break back into silence. It seemed so peaceful and safe to her now, although she recognized intellectually that she had spent a lot of her lab hours exhausted and stressed.

A guy in a black t-shirt who had tremendous lab-head energy put down a notebook when Ray walked in. He smiled without standing, and motioned them over. “Hey, Ray. Who’s your friend? And what do you have for me?”

Ray pulled out a small glass container which contained some of the goo they’d taken from the nest near that node. “Adelaide, meet Austin, the proprietor of this fine establishment. Austin, this is Adelaide. We managed to pull a couple liters of whatever this is.”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Austin picked up the jar and spun it a bit, watching the liquid flow. “That’s it? Why didn’t you get more?”

Adelaide thought back to that moment and heard the screeching. “It was a high-pressure situation. We couldn’t really hang around.”

Austin didn’t even look up. “Mm, I hear it gets like that. I’ve never been. For that reason, I suppose. Regardless. Have either of you observed any particular properties of this stuff?”

Ray shook his head. “No. But it was in the center of this — well, it seemed important to these bird things that were all around it. So I grabbed a bunch, I figured it could be useful.”

“Useful to those things, maybe, but we’ll have to see for ourselves. But you’ve had good instincts before. The normal arrangement?”

Adelaide looked over at Ray, who explained. “Austin will work with his team to figure out what they can make using this stuff, if anything. If it’s anything, we can either take some of what he comes up with for ourselves or just take payment for the material.”

Adelaide blinked. “That seems really taxing on your team.”

Austin looked up at that. “Yeah, well, that’s Triangle economics, you know? You can’t build an assembly line when you don’t know if you’ll ever run back into the materials you’re working with again. So we’re back to being artisans. Really tech-savvy artisans, but artisans. And what that means is that, if we make something, we aren’t making it again.”

“That — I can’t decide if I’d find that depressing or inspiring.”

“Well, if you worked here, you’d find out how you felt really quick. We all love it. That’s why we stay — plenty of people I hire burn out. But who wants to make the same thing over and over? Nothing stays exciting when you repeat it.”

“What sort of stuff do you come up with?”

“Not a fan of the showroom, I guess? There’s more than just big swords out there, you know. Some clothing, when someone brings us a useful hide or fiber. Some insulated materials you won’t find anywhere else. Other bits of utility. And, yeah, we make a lot of weapons. Partially that’s because people bring us dangerous or sharp stuff they find, and that’s what makes sense. But also because people really, really like having bespoke weapons. They name them.”

Adelaide briefly imagined herself wearing a bespoke rapier, made from some one-of-a-kind metal that never bent, and then she shook her head. The cliches were seeping in from the front room. “Do you take requests?” she asked.

“I mean, we don’t have that much control. But if you tell me something you want, I can keep an eye out for potential and let you know. Why, you have a vision?”

“Not exactly. But I might have something later — maybe after our next voyage.”

“Well, my door’s always open for Ray. But no promises. Like I said, nothing comes around here twice. Anyway, I’ll get back to you on this stuff as soon as I can.” And then Austin was back to his notebook, and Ray and Adelaide took the hint.

As they walked back into the sunlight, Ray smiled. “Admit it, you kind of want to go buy something now, don’t you?”

Adelaide didn’t respond, but Ray laughed anyway.