We cracked open the food and drink machines before we left, looting them as much as we could fit into our packs before heading out the front exit. Techlock and I watched it clank closed. For a moment, we just stood there and were lost in our own thoughts. Mine roiled from what we’d seen inside and survived only a short while before, but things were alright now. Everything would be okay.
We turned back to the crashing river of the valley and started walking. The night was falling, wrapping up our little escapade nicely with the sort of treacherous dark that tended to get people eaten in the woods. It was moonless, of course, and the torchlight was starting to flicker. But a minute of good cranking replenished the power source. It cast a bright white light soon afterward, and most of all, it didn’t flicker anymore.
The pack bulged off my back, but the weight felt less bothersome than before I’d come. In fact, I felt light and springy, making me wonder how well I might leap the dam divide on our way back. It seemed likely that I could keep my pack on as I jumped, though I wasn’t that stupid to go through with it and try.
With the saber in my hand, Techlock took point, bringing us to the shore of the river and scanning the far side for any sign of possible dangers or enemies, before shifting his focus to our side of the dam and checking it over as well.
“Looks like we’re clear for a crossing. Let’s head on up,” Techlock said.
We lightly crunched our way through the already-trodden underbrush and over to the bluffs. At its base, I sighed, wrapping the blade up in a blanket from the pack and stowing it away. If we ran into any trouble while climbing, we’d have to stick with our knives.
I examined my newly enlarged fists with a critical eye. They looked slightly smaller than they had earlier, a good sign that the swelling was getting better.
“Stay close,” I whispered. “And give me that light. I think I’ll be a lot better at climbing with one hand than you will be.”
“You welp!” he shot back mock-angrily. “I’ve been climbing mountains before you were even in your mother’s womb!”
“Sure old man, whatever you say,” I said, taking the light from him.
He shut up and followed. We climbed past the littered remnants of the old world, twisted metal and crumbling concrete of the dam mixed with the rock and dirt of the cliffside. Using a tangle of roots and old tech rebar, we were soon at the top and ready to go.
An almost magical sight met us as we spotted a bioluminescent fungi lining the walkway and edges of the dam, shining a faint soft blue light and mapping out the terrain without any need for the torchlight. I clicked it off, and Techlock gave a startled gargle.
“Tech, hey, it’s okay. The fungus here will be much better for our crossing. I can use both hands, see? But we’ll need to wait a minute until our eyes have adjusted to the glow and darkness.”
Waiting, I listened to the night in the wilds. It’d been so long since I’d had the right to even be here in the dark. For me, the night was a time of drunks and the clatter of people being stupid in the streets when I was trying to sleep. I’d cursed them off more than once. Or of myself being stupid in the streets, often with Elli, as others opened their shutters to yell at us to keep it down. Which had also happened more than once…
The contrast was magical. The soft rustling of leaves whispered from either side of the valley, pushed by a gentle breeze, while the waters below echoed with the rhythmic chorus of crickets chirping and frogs croaking.
From the trees closest to us came the hoot of an owl. I sighed, looking up at the night sky. The stars were so bright here, and they sparkled and twinkled in a way that made me wish Elli had come along as well. I would have loved to show the scene to her…
I knew there were constellations — the saints’ glory, the Church called them. The only ones I knew well though were the belt of the warrior and the twisted scoop. I searched them out and smiled when I made out the belt, its middle star gleaming like the buckle of a greater lord.
I took a deep breath, the cool, fresh air filling my lungs.
“Hey, Techlock, you ever wonder if we humans weren’t meant to live out here instead of the city?”
He snorted.
“I’d rather be hung in a cage by the Duke’s Justices. There’d be no glamor, no whores, no drama. What’d you do all day?”
“Eat berries,” I replied, laughing a little at the thought. “Alright, I’m ready if you are. Same as we did before?”
“Yeah,” he said, slapping his arm. “If we don’t move soon, the mosquitoes will end us.”
We got our asses in gear and moved carefully up to the break, stepping over the crumbled pits and potholes of age and battle. Shrugging off my pack, I took the grappling hook and tied its rope around my waist. The gap loomed ahead, a dark void in the glowing lights of the fungus, and the distant glow made for a simple target. With a few practiced swings, I easily flung the hook across the gap, faintly seeing it getting lodged into some rock and fungi. I tugged on it hard, checking that it was secure.
It was.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped back, then ran forward, launching myself into the air. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, I was suspended above the void. Then I felt my feet hit pitted concrete, and was amazed to realize that I’d not only overshot where the hook had taken root; I’d managed to stay standing as well.
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I let out an impressed whistle.
“What? Something wrong over there?” Techlock asked.
“No. Nothing. I’m going to toss the line. Let’s get out of here.”
Techlock crossed, and we continued our cautious journey, finally reaching the far side of the dam after a while. Climbing down the weathered structure, we landed on the opposite bank and started back across the Wilds to the city.
Even though we’d been on it just once, the path from the riverbank to the outskirts of the black market felt more familiar and less treacherous than before. We navigated through it all without incident and were soon in sight of our destination. Luckily, we didn’t run into any monsters or more mutants. I’d just take the good and shut up before I cursed our luck.
As we approached the black market, the air grew thicker with the lingering scent of smoke, oil, and spices. A few lanterns flickered here and there in the less seedy part of the market; probably honest merchants working over less honest scavenge for sale the next day. The effect of these few lights was to make it all glow dimly, much like the fungus we’d encountered near the bunker. If only there was a way to get fungus like that to grow wherever wished it to, getting the city lit up would have been a much easier prospect.
Techlock took the lead again, bringing us through a maze of narrow alleys, twists, and turns that I was sure were different from the way we’d left.
Finally, we arrived at his shop, a nondescript building tucked away from the main thoroughfare. He unlocked the door with a practiced hand, and we slipped inside, the door closing behind us with a reassuring click.
“Home sweet home,” Techlock said, tapping the side of his shop with an affectionate pat.
Opening the door, he flicked a switch and a dim mid-tech lightbulb flashed on, pulsing yellow light. The shop was as we’d left it, cluttered with scavenged goods, shelves overflowing with parts and pieces of old tech.
I smiled. It was so good to be almost home.
Techlock motioned to a small cot in the corner.
“You can crash there for the night. I’ll rig up a new serf bracer for you in the morning. Shouldn’t take long.”
“Thanks,” I replied, suddenly very tired. It’d been a long and eventful day. I dropped my pack to the floor, careful not to damage the precious cargo inside, and sat on the edge of the cot. “We’re not gonna unpack it?”
When Techlock didn’t answer, I looked over to see him busy with his tools, his hands moving with practiced efficiency. The soft clinking and clanking of manual machining filled the space, a comforting background noise that made me even more tired.
I lay down and closed my eyes, feeling the weight of what had happened during the day finally settle over me.
“Get some rest, Alaric,” Techlock said quietly. “Tomorrow’s a new day, and we’ve got a lot to figure out.”
“We sure do,” I murmured in an incoherent response, already feeling the pull of sleep.
The cot was lumpy and uncomfortable, but it didn’t matter. My body demanded rest, and within moments, I was drifting off, the sounds of his tinkering fading into the background.
As I slept, my dreams were filled with fragmented images of the day’s events. The mutants, the lift, the glowing liquid of the mutagen—all swirled together in a chaotic mix. I saw Elli taking the mutagen, then the blockers, but screamed in horror as they failed to work and she became one with the monsters of the ruined bunker.
I awoke with a gasp sometime later. The faint light of dawn was already filtering through the cracks in the shop’s boarded-up windows. Techlock was up and working on the new serf bracer. He looked at me as I stirred, giving a nod of acknowledgment.
“Morning,” he said. “Hope you got some sleep. We’ve got a lot to discuss.”
I stretched, feeling the stiffness in my muscles. “Yeah, I think I did. Thanks, Tech.”
He handed me the new bracer and I marveled at its size. “This should keep you under the radar. You might be big, but it’s not unheard of for soldiers to get demoted to serfs. And I doubt the guards at the gate give two shits anyways. Now, tell you what. How about you get back to your shop and let me figure out what to do with this mutagen? I’ll get back to you in a few weeks.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Are you asking me to trust a black marketer?”
He tapped a finger to the side of his masked mouth.
“Best way to stay under the radar. If I screw you, come and take it out of my hide. Now scram, Alaric. I’ll get back to you. And don’t forget your springs.”
I collected what I needed and left Techlock's shop. It wasn’t early morning, but as I made my way back through the market, I realized it wasn’t late enough yet for all of the merchants to be at their stalls. Only some were open for business, and the proprietors behind them seemed groggy and surly enough to hope no customers would bother them that early in the morning.
Which was perfect. The city gate was still a good distance away, and I wanted to get back to my shop before the streets filled with people. I set off, moving quickly and quietly through the narrow alleys of the black market.
Navigating through the stalls at a good pace, I noticed that other than getting out of my way, most didn’t pay me much attention. It filled me with relief; I, a serf, really was going to get away with it. And why wouldn’t I, I realized. Unless Scavenger Master Elrik Boyerman came knocking, I was just another cog in the gears of the kingdom.
I emerged from the market and made my way uphill toward the city gates. The sun was a quarter of the way through the sky by the time I got there. Standing in line, I stared ahead stonily, hoping a certain amount of aloofness might speed my passage through.
As I approached, I could see the gate guards standing at their posts, just as bulky as I, their uniforms were crisp and their plasti-bladed halberds leaned against the wall in easy reach. They looked bored as they processed people coming in but as I approached, I saw the one’s eyes land on me and his jaw drop open. He elbowed his fellow, and they waved me forward.
I paused awkwardly.
“You there! Cut the line! Buggering hells, we gotta hear your story.”
The line parted and I walked through like one of the Church messiahs from the stories of the old times. A pang of fear throbbed in my abdomen, and I cursed myself for being so wrong about the situation.
They were going to find out who I was and what I’d done. And then I’d be ripped apart by the techsmiths of the Duke.
The guard looked me up and down as I approached.
"Ey mate. We gotta hear your story. What'd you do to get drummed out of service?"
His question caught me off guard, but I quickly recovered.
"Ran into some trouble out there," I said, thinking quickly while gesturing vaguely towards the Wilds. "Had to make some quick decisions. Ended up getting a bit more than I bargained for."
The other guard raised an eyebrow.
“It was drinking on duty, wasn’t it? Same every time, brother. Listen, it’s not a perma-gig. It’s just a punishment. They’ll have you back in service in no time. Spent too much cred on you to leave you like the rest of the trash.” He slapped me on the back. “Head on in. You’ll be back to fighting in no time!”
I nodded.
“Thanks. That’s good to hear.”
“No problem. Now go on in. I’ll see you on the battlefield.”
Not sure what to say, I pounded my chest once as I’d seen other soldiers do previously. They returned the salute, and I turned and made my way back to the shop.