The air was still tinged with the electric charge of excitement. Once the beasts died, people stopped cheering. I could feel the atmosphere shift towards a more somber tone, one that always set in after the show: reality.
We moved swiftly through the thinning crowd, our minds already turning to the tasks that lay ahead. It’d been a good monster fight but being a spectator didn’t pay the bills and put food on the table. Only hard work did. Time equaled credits after all.
As we navigated through the dispersing masses, the stern voices of city guards cut through the lingering chatter. Clad in their imposing armor and lightly enhanced by the monster seeds or small crystals dredged from monster flesh, the guards moved with a practiced and supernatural efficiency. Their presence was a sobering reminder of everyone’s place and duty to the empire and crown.
“Back to your stations! All of you! Get back to work!” one of the guards bellowed, his voice carrying abnormally clear and far. “The festivities are over! Any dawdling and it will be the brig or half-pay for the day!”
People hastened their steps, expressions shifting from relaxed contentment to resigned acceptance. A few muttered, but the majority kept their heads down as they skittered away, hurrying back to the factories and stills of their various crafts. It was a very humbling experience, as no matter how much we thought that we were a part of this place, the reality was that we only served its rulers.
Ellinor and I quickened our steps, eyes focused on the path ahead.
“Hurry up, slowpoke!” Ellinor shot over her shoulder as she seemed to dance her way forward. It was almost a delight to watch her. “Or we’ll be late to bid for the scavenging!”
Pushing through the city’s massive gate, we entered the defensive zone, a no-man’s land that bore silent witness to numerous past skirmishes. There, amidst the tall grass, rock piles, and many dilapidated farms, history lingered in the form of old trenches and abandoned fieldworks.
My stride shifted and steps became long and swift, honed by years of navigating the treacherous terrain beyond the wall, all in the pursuit of monster remains. Usually, it had been smaller and much weaker monsters, but this time was different.
Ellinor matched my pace effortlessly, her eyes scanning the landscape with an engineer’s precision. We were in a race against time and competition, and behind us, a motley crew of other scavengers followed. Their steps were less assured and expressions a mélange of frustration and determination. They were the slower ones, those who were too old to keep up or who hadn’t quite mastered the art of rapid traversal over uneven ground. Most of them were older men and women that despite being veterans of many monster dismantlers, couldn’t keep up with the younger generation.
Ahead, the Toxotai mechs, sleek and imposing, stood guard over the carcasses. Their presence was a necessary precaution to ensure that the processing would go smoothly and people wouldn’t become greedy. Even if it was just for a small piece of meat that could be processed into power pills or medicine.
Beside the translucent remains of the Glimmerhusk, a massive pearl-white Cataphract was stationed, the pilot nonchalantly perched against its metallic hull. A loosely rolled cigarette burned in his fingers as he eyed the scavengers heading for the monsters with disdain. And why wouldn’t he? In their eyes, it was the mech pilots who did all the work and we were there to pick up the scraps.
The funny thing? He wasn’t even wrong…
I looked back down to the Glimmerhusk with a scavenger’s keen interest. The creature’s iridescent carapace shimmered in the sunlight. Something about the monster spoke to me, almost as if calling my name and promising me a great reward if I only answered.
“There,” I said, pointing to the corpse. “Let’s do the Glimmerhusk. Imagine if we got lucky and snagged a phase core. That’d get us a lot of cred, even if we shared.”
Ellinor’s eyes lit up and she wiggled her eyebrows.
“Maybe they’d even let me take it as my cut? I’ve never machined a mech with phasal displacement.”
Her eyes shone at the thought and we tore sideways at an angle, leaping over an old fallen-in trench to reach our location. I laughed at how she twirled like a dancer. Despite her insistence on not being ladylike, Ellinor’s behavior said otherwise.
The monster looked harmless with its brain blown away, but I’d heard stories about death twitches or monsters pretending to be dead so they could take a mech along for a ride into the afterlife. The Cataphract pilot casually flicked the butt of his cigarette to the ground, eyeing us and the stream of other scavengers trailing behind with mild curiosity. A few people had made it ahead of us, but Ellinor and I were well within the time limit to get scavenging rights on any of the three dead monsters.
My grip tightened on my tool bag, already imagining our possible haul. A slow scavenger was a hungry one, and a lippy scavenger was a dead one. I kept my mouth shut and just kept moving.
I turned to the Glimmerhusk once we stood in line, searching for where to enter as we waited for the Central Bank’s representative to talk to us. He was just done renting out a batch of tools, and from what I could see, only a few ripsaws remained. I grabbed her hand and pushed past two other scavengers.
“Day, good man,” I said, stopping in front of the rep. “We’d like to work on the Glimmerhusk.”
“The two of you?” he asked with a flat look. The man was rail thin and barely five feet tall, but well-clad. He wore a blue overall suit that symbolized the Central Bank and a cap that covered his eyes and face from the sun.
“Yes, the two of us. A ripsaw and a tool kit if you don’t mind,” I said, offering the man an earnest smile. Being kind and respectful to people in power usually got you a better deal when scavenging, so I didn’t mind swallowing a hint of my pride.
Elli pinched my arm and I pulled away, scowling over my shoulder.
“A couple, huh?” the man mumbled. “Alright, I’ll make you a deal. Fifteen credits for both.”
My head snapped so fast my brain didn’t have time to catch up.
“Fifteen?”
“What? Are you giving me lip, son?”
“No, I don’t, sorry,” I said, raising my hands in defense. “I thought it was going to be more, good man.”
“Nice save,” Elli whispered in my ear.
The man pretended not to hear and held out his hand. I offered him my chip and he subtracted fifteen credits, then handed us two vouchers. One was for a toolbox and the other was for the ripsaw.
“You break them, you buy them,” he said, holding on to the vouchers for a second too long.
“We know, good man. This isn’t the first time we’re doing this.”
He nodded toward the tool car and we hurried over, grabbing the gear and hurrying to the Glimmerhusk.
Finding the best bits was as much luck as it was skill since the bodies were somewhat random. Gems and cores came from the chakra, which were easy enough to find. Monster heart, liver, arms, legs, hands, and feet were always a good dig through. The competition was fast so we didn’t have much time to decide on an entry point.
Luckily, Elli was a champ and had the favor of Mother Luck as she usually found a gem or two. Those good runs had sponsored her engineering projects at the Royal Assembly. And even though she hadn’t graduated yet, her station in life left her a free woman with a rare engineer’s cap that got her access to most places, a parts shop on my street, and a home in uptown complete with mech bays and a license to work on them. It was a giant step-up above all of us serfs that populated most of the city. Compared to her, I was the dirt beneath her boots. At least when it came to ‘importance’ to the city.
We made our way to the fallen Glimmerhusk, deciding to dig through the creature's translucent carapace. It had been the part that drew my eye and made me want to dig there in the first place.
The knight stationed nearby briefly glanced over at us, his eyes showing just how much he loved being there in the midday heat. Unfazed by his gaze, we quickly set to work, unrolling the toolkit and setting up the ripsaw.
The knight cleared his throat and raised an arm. We stopped and turned to face him, a dread quickly setting in my guts.
“Hey, vultures,” he said with a condescending tone. “If you find a phasing gem, let me know. It’s mine,” he said, staring at us with a fake smile. “I need the level-up. Plan to go questing in the next season.”
“I…uhh--”
Getting caught off my game wasn’t something that usually happened, but the casual bully grab of the knights was something that seriously messed with earnings for people like me, and yet both the Central Bank and the Crown allowed it.
A phasing gem would have been big money if it was intact. Hell, even imperfect and damaged ones could earn enough credits to live off for a month.
I sighed and nodded, giving the young nobleman an equally false smile.
“Yes, sir,” I said, but knew very well that I wouldn’t even think of it. I’d rather get caught smuggling one than lose out.
The knight sat back down, his eyes already somewhere else as he muttered something to himself. His type thought us weak and beneath them, afraid to take risks so we would always obey their orders without question. Besides, who would believe a vulture over a knight? Just imagining it sounded preposterous.
Elli cursed under her breath as she worked the ripsaw. I was in no delusion that she’d been the only reason why he’d been ‘nice’ in the first place.
“He’s a big fish, Alaric. No attitude. You get to checking the heart chakra, I’ll hit the legs and help you make some money. No big deal. Give him his get, and no one gets hurt.”
With a practiced grip, Elli started the saw up and set to work on the Glimmerhusk's translucent hide. The blade bit into the creature's otherworldly flesh, releasing a guttural belch of gasses that filled the air with an unearthly stench, potent, and alien.
“There could be a haste gem in the legs,” she murmured more to herself than to me, her eyes fixed on the jagged incision she was making. “But my money's on the knight being right that there’s a phasing gem here. I can feel it! Dig in and I’ll make more holes.”
She shot me a quick, determined nod before moving away. The stench seemed to hit the knight, and to my surprise, he entered his mech and strode off. Now that was a fortunate turn of events.
I momentarily watched the growing swarm of fellow scavengers descending on the other fallen creatures and some even joined us on the Glimmerhusk, though there weren’t any tools left. Those who were too late usually rummaged through the holes left by other scavengers who didn’t have the time to dig through every layer of flesh.
The Glimmerhusk's skin proved challenging, its surface was tough and the severed edges were just as lethal as sharpened blades. Maneuvering the massive tongs, I broke off the sharp edges so I didn’t cut myself. Despite that, my hands and arms caught on a sharp scale that nicked my skin and drew blood.
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“Just a scratch,” I hissed, not bothering with looking. It wasn’t deep enough to get worried over, and any minute spent tending to small cuts and bruises was another minute other scavengers could get ahead of us.
I worked with swift, precise movements, snipping through the tough alien tissue, and felt the time pass. Seconds turned to minutes, and then even half an hour as I still hadn’t managed to get through the tough interior. Switching to a robust spreader, I carefully pried apart the creature's crystalline bone structure, inching closer to the heart. Working on such a large monster was different from what I’d done so far. These creatures were easily four or five times larger than my largest scavenge, hence the steep admission price.
As I made my way deeper, something unexpected caught my eye—a fleeting glint amidst the carnage. I halted, squinting to discern what it was. Twisting to look over my shoulder, I noticed that the beast's stomach had been torn open in the fray. From within the gash, a slow seepage of dirty, green-tinged ooze glurped into the surrounding cavity. Amongst the muck, metallic fragments shimmered, and there, partially submerged, lay… a chip? How? And why would it even be there? Was it part of an old-tech mech board, perhaps? The potential value of such a find sent a ripple of excitement through me. It wasn’t anything new as vultures tended to find those often, but usually in smaller monsters that had eaten the tech or got it stuck to their bodies.
Casting a glance at the Toxotai guards and the knight, I noted their lackluster attention. Their gazes drifted aimlessly and they looked bored. Some were joking around and others were asleep.
I took a deep breath and made a decision. Seizing on their distraction, I navigated the gnarled innards of the fallen Glimmerhusk. My fingers pried through the mess, finding the mech chip. I pulled it out slowly, making it look as if I was still rummaging through its innards. I took a quick peek to judge it up close.
It was a sizable, rectangular chip, a bit too awkwardly large. The circuitry and familiar design hinted at its origin — an old-tech mech control board, a relic of sophisticated engineering once used for powering and guiding the colossal mechs. But that wasn’t all. It was made out of a red metallic substance that covered most of it, even the vulnerable circuits.
I glanced over to Ellinor, seeing she was still focused on her task and unaware of my find. Her trust was implicit, unspoken yet resolute. I steeled my resolve. If Elli could brave the risks for our shared goals, I could match her courage. The chip was a gamble, but one I was willing to take.
I left it there and hurried over to the tool bag, pulled out a rolling slicer, and made my way back to the man-sized hole. I cut exploratory criss-cross patterns across the massive organ until I felt something hard. I dropped the dirty slicer and bent over, picked the chip up, stashed it inside my boot, picked the slicer back up, and held it in my free hand as I rummaged inside with the other. My fingers caught around something solid.
My heart quickened even further. Yes, this was it! If I could even get a single decent gem or ‘bribe’ for the knight, he could very well cover for us when we made our way back to the city. It wasn’t unheard of, and if I caught him in a good mood…
I retrieved the bladed core-catcher and shoved its serrated circular mouth over the hole where I’d pushed my arm in. Giving it a good twist, I heard the meat pop as the core was pulled into the chamber by the device’s clever vacuum extraction capabilities.
I froze for a moment, closed my eyes, and said a prayer.
It’s now or never.
I pulled myself out of the hole and opened the core-catcher, and retrieved the gem. Before I could even call out, I noticed movement in my periphery, almost as if the knight had felt the gem. Flesh and blood dripped from it as I held it up, looking it over. The gem pulsed purple, and seemed to be in nine places at once.
“Sir!” I yelled, turning to the knight. He’d been looking away, but I could swear his eyes had been on me somehow.
The knight exited his mech again and made his way over to me, plucking the gem from my hand.
“Good work, vulture. Tell your lady friend she’s got a job to install it. I’ll throw in some credits because you didn’t try and hide it from me. I can respect an honest man, even if he’s a bottom feeder.”
“Will do, good Sir. Your name is?”
“Sir Alain Hembersworth. Tell her to find me tomorrow at noon,” he said, before putting his hand on my shoulder and squeezing. “The gods smile on selfless people like you, vulture. I pray you find good fortune.”
I watched as the knight tucked the luminescent gem into a small, rugged sack that hung from his belt. He eyed it with wonder; it wasn’t just mechs that were old-tech. The silky bag the man carried was practically indestructible and worth a fortune on its own.
With the gem secured, the knight made his way back to the Cataphract, its frame still ticking with the dissipating heat of intense battle. He took to his metal mounting ladder, his steps echoing on the rungs that led up to the open cockpit, his ascent swift and practiced.
Reaching the top, he paused for a moment, surveying the landscape from his elevated vantage point. Then, with a fluid motion, the knight swung himself back into the cockpit, the heavy metal hatch closing with a resounding clang behind him.
I watched in surprise as he turned about and marched off toward the city, leaving the back of the Glimmerhusk without supervision. That told the Toxotoi not to interfere with whatever we would find. Shit. If Mother Luck really existed, I sure hoped she had a plan for us today.
“I guess I was wrong about that nobleman,” I muttered. “Maybe I could be one of his ilk one day. Take my due and leave the little man to his luck.”
Ellinor cleared her throat, startling me.
“I found what could pass for a level 2 speed gem. You take it. I heard what the noble said before he left. Maybe they will let you smuggle some meat for crystallization.”
“Yeah, I'll handle the chopping,” I said absently. “The crystal? That's all yours, Elli. You've got that custom gig coming up. It'll come in handy.”
Elli knelt, her hands deftly tearing through the monster's flesh. Looking at me, she noticed my distracted gaze.
“Hey, you seem a million miles away. What's eating you?”
I exhaled a heavy sigh, my gaze lingering on the horizon for a moment too long.
“It's nothing... I'll fill you in later,” I muttered, brushing off her concern with a forced smile. My mind, however, was already racing ahead, weaving through the maze of what-ifs and maybes that the chip had unleashed.
The process of filling our sacks with the remnants of the monster's carcass was a meticulous one that took most of the day. We worked in tandem, hefting the heavy, gory contents into the thick, durable fabric of the sacks. Our movements were practiced and efficient, and after a few hours, the sound of steam and thump told us we were done.
The central collector, a hulking automaton, lumbered towards us on six, thick and stubby legs that seemed too small for its massive body. Faded lettering on its side announced the words US ARMY, but I never understood what a ‘us army’ meant or what it had been. Its movements were crooked and janky, each step a warped cranking squeal as the scrappy modern science of new-tech mech work clashed with the former work of the ancients.
The collector's exterior was a patchwork of metal plates, dented and scarred from years of service, giving it an almost battle-worn appearance. Rust speckled, its joints hinted at the countless cycles it had endured in the harsh outdoor conditions.
Beneath this mechanical behemoth, hanging from the bottom of the transport mech in a gondola filled with sheets of paper and a mess of gadgets, sat the pilot. He looked well eccentric, a man whose beard was a wild, unkempt cascade of hair that flowed over a stained, leather apron, framing a face that had seen many years under the unforgiving sun. His eyes, small and shrewd, flicked over the scavengers with an air of weary authority. His belly, awe-inspiringly large, rested comfortably against the control panel of the collector, almost merging with the machine itself.
As he surveyed the haul, his thick fingers, surprisingly nimble for their size, deftly navigated a console littered with levers and buttons, recording each contribution. He grunted with each entry, his voice a deep rumble that barely rose above the din of the collector's engine. The vouchers he handed out were written in a hurried, but precise scrawl, evidence of a routine practiced thousands of times.
When it was our turn, the man took our haul, weighed and inspected it quickly to note which parts we’d prepared, scratched out his offer, and passed it back. The paper crinkled in his grip.
I reached out to take the paper, my fingers brushing against the coarse voucher. He scanned the figures, his brows furrowing slightly as he processed the numbers. Without a word, he handed the voucher to Ellinor, whose reaction was immediate and visceral. Her face, smeared with the day's toil, flushed a deeper shade as she absorbed the information. In a swift, fluid motion borne of indignation, she pushed aside the next scavenger in line, a man coated in the same grime and gore that marked us all. Her arm thrust forward, pressing the voucher into the pilot's face.
“Fifty-five creds? What's the deal?” she demanded, her voice ringing with a mix of frustration and incredulity that echoed slightly in the busy space around us.
The pilot looked up with a heavy sigh. His eyes, tired and distant, met hers with a resignation born of countless similar exchanges.
“Inflation,” he said in a voice that droned with the monotony of repetition. “There's an excess of monster parts today. We need to ship a portion out of the city, which means hiring transports and guards. Costs are up, so payouts are down.”
Ellinor's features contorted further, a mix of anger and helpless resignation. She stepped aside, her movements sharp and jerky, making way for another worker. This one, his clothing as drenched in the toils of the day as hers, stepped forward to receive his own underwhelming compensation.
“It's just not right,” she hissed, her voice a low growl of discontent. “Scavengers always end up on the short end, don't they?”
I responded with a familiar and resigned shrug, a nonverbal acknowledgment of my plight.
“Us scavengers, we’re serfs, Elli. Bound to the guild til they let us buy our way out or sign us off to someone else. It is what it is. But look on the bright side, at least today's lordly intervention landed you a job offer. You're buying the next round of drinks, hey? And besides, after getting part of our rental fee back and the earnings, I’m set for the next few weeks.”
Turning away from the collector, we trudged wearily through the dimming light of dusk, our shadows elongating on the battered plains just outside the city's perimeter. The aftermath of the monster fight had left the fields marked with new battle scars and the scavenging had pooled various juices over the soil, making it squelch under our feet as we walked.
I eyed the towering structures of iron and old tech ahead of us, the lights flickering on all at once. They were powered by cultivated energies gained by processing monster meat and imperfect crystals and cores.
It was a bittersweet sight, a reminder that sometime past, things had been magical. Or maybe they hadn’t, but I’d never know.
We made our way through the gate, my heart thundering as no one stopped to check us for smuggled contraband. It was a medley of broken old-world and paltry repair attempts by the new. Ruins from a forgotten age lay scattered, half-swallowed by the earth, while steam pipes and cables snaked across the dirt of the streets, hissing and whistling as they carried energy to the heart of the city. The air was tinged with the smell of chemical steam and boiled metal.
The streets we walked were dimly lit, most of them cheap new tech jury-rigged multiple times to keep them functioning. Some of them flickered off and on, right at the edge of dysfunction, but enough of them ran steady that we were able to make out all the street shops and denizens even at this late hour.
Ahead of us, the steam cart station was brightly lit, this final hub full of activity as scavengers of many stripes filed in to take a ride back to their homes. The station gleamed, a tasteful combination of steel and glass that looked great despite its new-tech construction. Unlike much of the city, the nobles and plutocrats took pride in their mass transit as was evidenced by the beauty that sat before us.
Walking to the platform, we made our way to the big clapboard sign saying Central Bank. We waited in companionable silence, watching the steam carts roll in on this platform or that, their wheels squealing rhythmically over the rails.
Each cart was ornately decorated, brass fittings shining under the station lights and seats upholstered in worn but comfortable leather. When the Central Bank car rolled in, we paid two credits each to the uniformed conductor, a man with a leathery weathered face, who tipped his cap and ushered us aboard with a practiced smile.
The journey through the city was a blur of lights and shadows as we rattled along the tracks. Buildings of ramshackle brick and mortar in the poorer areas were interspersed with newer constructions of steel and glass that belonged to the local lords and ladies. The car rocked gently back and forth as we went, almost lulling us into slumber. We were dead tired, and all I wanted was to get back home so I could rest.
A short while later, we arrived at the Central Bank. It was late, but the bank was open 24/7, so I wanted to hand in the vouchers. Or scrips as they were also called by us vultures.
The building was imposing, with tall columns and wide steps leading up to its grand entrance. Inside, the bank was a cathedral of commerce – high ceilings, marble floors, and the tired quiet of scavengers stumbling forward to redeem their pay. Guards in chainmail stood watch, their eyes sharp and alert, halberds standing upright at their sides.
At the counter, a clerk with a meticulously kept ledger greeted us with another false smile. They were everywhere and it was becoming harder and harder to deal with them.
“Evening,” I said, handing my scrip over. Ellinor did the same but didn’t say anything.
The clerk examined them with a practiced eye, stamped them, and then entered the amounts into a large, mechanical register with a series of clicks and clacks. The register was a behemoth of gears and levers.
“Place your chips in there, please,” the clerk said, and we did as told. Several moments later, a weak chime rang out, telling us that our earnings had been deposited.
The transaction completed, we exited the bank and sighed. Elli smiled, taking my hand.
“You said drinks. What about now?” she asked, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “Might do us some good. Also, I enjoy your company. Maybe if I get you drunk enough, you’ll take me home for the night.”
I snorted, amused by her constant attempts to get into bed with me, but I knew that the moment we took that next step, we wouldn’t be able to remain friends. At least not the way we were now, and I liked things as they were. We shared good and bad times but weren’t overly close and pried into each other’s private matters.
“I can’t, not tonight. There’s something I need to take care of. Tell you about it sometime.”
I turned and left before she could ask any questions, and felt her glare burning a hole in my back. I didn’t turn back and made my way home. After several tense seconds, I heard her stomping feet, which were probably carrying her to the gentlemen’s quarters where a large tub and a warm bed waited to coddle her into the next day.