Thode felt more alive than ever before as a steady booming thundered in his chest like bottled lightning that coursed through every vein and artery in his body. The chambers and pistons of his mechanical heart injected supercharged Flux fluid throughout his limbs like an engine pumping motor oil.
Hydropneumatic Cardioverter (Upgradeable Gear)
Bituminite Coal: Water (94%), Air (94%)
Integration: 51%
A low cobalt integral Gear that replaces your heart with a pressurized furnace with six piston-chambers and six major pipelines that takes in mundane blood and re-energizes it with Water and Air Flux. The resultant Flux fluid is pumped throughout your entire cardiovascular system, increasing your endurance, vitality and immunity to disease. It now takes longer for your mind and muscles to succumb to fatigue, while your ability to recover after strenuous activity has improved significantly.
The Flux fluid also provides additional power to any Gears that you have integrated. The amount of increased output is dependent on your integration level and the type of Coal in the furnace.
Current Flux output: +51%
Upgrades:
* Empty
* Empty
Even with such a paltry integration percentage and with no upgrades installed, his new heart tingled his body from stem to stern almost like he couldn’t sit still. That was perfect considering that he’d been scouring the city of Glokham nonstop for any feather scrap of Reina.
He’d already been searching for more than a week since he integrated his newest Gear and hadn’t even come across a whiff of her. With his Hydropneumatic Cardioverter, he tirelessly combed through dozens of inns and taprooms along with the major shopping centers and marketplaces in the middle levels of the city.
Unfortunately, she could be hiding away on six full floors of an entire metropolis. And though his low cobalt heart improved his endurance, it didn’t help with his growing frustration. If anything, he was getting angrier.
Spending long hours, day in and day out, without anything to show for it was getting to him. It was as clear as glass that Reina didn’t want to be found.
Even after visiting the Coalition Reserve yet another time, they learned that she still hadn’t made any more transactions or withdrawals. At this point, looking for her was like looking for a single bird amidst a murder of crows.
He was just wasting time and what meager resources he had remaining.
Worse yet, the hangar where he stowed his Pyrokinetic Aerocraft was breathing down his neck for this next month’s parking fee. He’d splurged most of the CCs he earned from union contracts on changing over to a new inn room and the high-grade potions he used for the Gear operation.
Now, he was two screws and a handful of lint away from being broke. And he still didn’t have any clue as to Reina’s whereabouts.
Thus, Thode found his way back to the Copper Crosses’ union HQ, hoping to pick up a well-paying contract that would pad his pockets and take his mind off of the vexing heiress.
Fortunately, now that he had a third dual element, Bituminite-level Gear, he was technically a Gearmeister, even though he couldn’t quite afford that quality of Coal right now.
Only his Gear heart currently ran on Bituminite and that was only because of the haul he brought in from the last contract before his life went tits up. Meanwhile, his audioscopes and prosthetic legs continued to puff away on only Lignite Coal reserves.
This probably made him the weakest Gearmeister there was, putting his strength closer to that of a Gearace rather than a meister. But who cared about those minor details? He was still considered a High Tinker now, so he hoped that would be enough to qualify him for some better union contracts.
The Copper Crosses ranked their freelance delvers through a combination of their Tinker classification, available Gadgetry and overall experience. There were a total of five ranks — copper, iron, steel, cobalt and titanium. They were pretty straightforward for the most part since they were obviously based on the 13 prime alloys.
Originally, Thode had been labeled as an iron-ranked delver, but with the difficulty of contracts he was able to finish, he was upgraded to steel-rank in quick order. Now hopefully, with his latest Gear, he would be allowed to take a cobalt-ranked contract. After all, the better the contract, the more CCs he’d get paid and he wouldn’t say no to a wee bit of a payday at the moment.
Union HQ’s main entrance was on the fourth floor of a wide-based building with a broad entranceway that always seemed to have foot traffic. As Thode stalked up to the doors, he noticed Tinkers of every classification coming in and out of the building along with some blanks who looked to be even more decked out than him.
Why someone without any Gears would choose to brawl with Gearmongers was beyond him. But then again, Glokham was much smaller than Arcwatch and obviously couldn’t keep up with the amount of mechanical monsters roaming the countryside. With that in mind, it was no wonder that blanks were forced to pick up some Gadgetry of their own.
Striding into the union’s main lobby, gaslit chandeliers shone brightly onto low steel tiles covered by sturdy green carpeting. Cheaply made yet durable dark copper furniture with wood accents was placed in six distinct areas, one for each rank of freelance delver with an extra area for folks to come in off of the street and file new contracts.
While the city of Glokham itself was limited in its expansion because of the surrounding mountains, the countryside was still full of enterprising ventures for Coal and metal mining, farming, wood cutting and animal husbandry. How else was the city going to supply its people with clothes, food and other goods?
However, because of the sheer amount of Gearmongers running rampant around that same countryside, there were new contracts constantly being placed with the Copper Crosses union to clear out areas and protect the aforementioned ventures. Honestly, if Thode wasn’t so focused on tracking down Reina at the moment, he would have had a field day raking in the CCs.
Once he made it to the front of the line that serviced steel-level delvers, he was greeted by a petite, smiling Paraburnese woman with glasses framing her almond-shaped eyes and a messy bun of green-tinted hair. Wearing a fitted doubletwill blouse tucked into high-waisted leather breeches, she eyed him up and down as she took in his own travel-worn clothes. “How can I help you, sir?”
“Here,” he said, sliding over his union token, “I’d like my Tinker classification to be changed. I’m a Gearmeister now.”
“Alright, I can do that. Just hold on a clock tick,” she replied in a businesslike tone, before her bob of green hair ducked under the countertop. After rummaging around for a bit, she came back up and slid a monocle with a red lens over her right eye, which was clearly an inspection Gadget of some kind.
Her eyes roved his body, assessing the Flux signature that must have been radiating from his three separate Gear pieces. “Double-Lignite, double-Lignite and…double-Bituminite,” the woman mumbled. “Hmm, I’m sorry, sir, your readings indicate that you are unable to be labeled a Gearmeister. You need either three double-Bituminite Gears or two double-Bituminite and a single-Anthracite Gear to qualify.”
“I know that,” Thode replied, exasperated. “But, I’m not made out of CCs here, woman! I can’t afford Bituminite Coal for all of my Gear pieces. That’s why I’m here in the first place — for money.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” she replied, shaking her head and removing the monocle. “Best I can do for you is classify you as a Gearace. If you come back with the right Coal reserves, then we can upgrade you then.”
Thode wanted to throw up his hands, but stopped himself, since he was desperate to get some CCs. Rent was no joke around here. “Fine, just mark me down as a Gearace then. But how about contracts? Now that I’m a Gearace, are there better contracts available to me? What’s the highest paying one you got?”
The receptionist placed her original glasses back on, then held up a finger, “One moment.”
Immediately, her lenses split off into more round illusory projections until she essentially had three sets of glasses hovering before her face. From Thode’s perspective, her eyes were covered by ethereal lines of script that moved too fast for him to catch any snippets. The receptionist must have had some serious training to use the Gadget or maybe the projection was just a false one. Either way, he had no hope of reading it.
“Well…” she began, “There’s a handful of rhino-sentries terrorizing a herd of rabbaros cattle. The ranchers have been keeping one step ahead of them, but they’re at their wits’ end.”
Thode shook his head emphatically, “No thank-you. You may as well ask me to tackle a tank with my bare hands. What else ya got?”
Stolen novel; please report.
“Hmm, there’s a mining group that struck a Lignite deposit a league out of the city and they’re being harassed by a couple of packs of wolf-sentries. They’re paying pretty decent for some easy work.”
“Oh ya?” Thode raised an eyebrow. “And how come the contract’s still up for grabs? That sounds like a ripe fruit ready to be plucked, so why hasn’t it?”
The woman paused as she sifted through her projections, “It looks like the contract has been taken…Multiple times in fact, but it just hasn’t been completed. That’s…an odd one.” She shook it off though, “Do you want it?”
“Uh…why don’t we circle back around to that one. Gimme a couple of other options first,” he replied, uncertain about a contract that looked too good to be true. That one just smelled wrong to him and while his instincts about people weren't great — though he was learning real fast thanks to Reina — his instincts about Gearmongers were spot on.
“Well, I’ve got some reports of a leftover albatross-sentry from the Arcwatch inva-”
“Pass. I ain’t gettin’ airborne with another of one of those blasted birds ever again.”
“A group of Noxdennite invent-”
“Pass.” No more blasted featherheads.
The woman’s fist clenched and Thode knew he was frustrating her, though she was too professional to say anything.
“Fine then…One of the local Houses is building a new flagship zeppelin carrier and they need a specific Gearmonger ruin delved for some gun batteries large enough to outfit it. Coal is a plus and so are other weaponized Gadgets, but the main goal is those gun batteries.”
“That sounds promising,” Thode began. “What kind of Gearmonger drops them?”
“According to the contract, this particular ruin has a challenge room that spawns massive, automatic turrets that are usually made of low cobalt or better-”
“Woah, woah, woah,” he interrupted, prompting another clenched fist from the receptionist. “How do they expect anyone to bring back some fraggin’ gun batteries of that quality while fending off the enemies in a challenge room?”
“Ahem…if you had let me finish, I would have answered that already,” she said in a snippy tone. “Now, as I was saying, the contract is for a team of delvers to bring back a pair of gun batteries intact. Gearaces and up only.”
“How many do they want?”
“Hmm…looks like anyone who signs up needs to be vetted by House Sixsmith first. There aren’t any more details beyond that. So if you’re interested, you need to sign up here, then head to their main residence on the seventh floor.”
“Can you at least tell me how much they’re payin’ up?”
“The pot is 50,000 CCs split between a five member team.”
“Fifty thousand!” Thode cried out, the people standing in line around him suddenly eyeing him with interest. “By the Hanged Gods, sign me up!”
The woman grabbed another Gadget from below her countertop without looking, then waved it over his union token. “This will give you temporary access to the seventh floor through any of the service elevators. It’s good for one ride up and one ride down. House Sixsmith will be holding an audition at the end of the week.”
Thode snatched up the token like it was an ingot of solid titanium and hugged it to his chest. “Dynamo stuff! I can’t wait!” he said with excitement, then mumbled an offhanded ‘thanks’ before quickly walking away from the receptionist.
A potential 10,000 CCs could pad his pockets for a long time. And all he had to do was to delve a ruin with four other High Tinkers? That was overkill as far as he was concerned.
Thode hurried back out onto the Glokham streets without looking behind him, Reina suddenly taking a backseat in his mind as his mind flashed with the thought of all of those CCs.
He had a contract to prepare for.
----------------------------------------
As soon as he stepped off the elevator onto the seventh floor, Thode was greeted by pristine stainless steel buildings with polished brassteel trimmings. Ornate gas lamps lit the countless catwalks and suspension bridges in a pale yellow glow that mimicked the sunlight that was hidden away behind the city’s dense smoke clouds of industrialization.
No matter what city I’m in, the rich just live a different life than the rest of us…he thought sullenly.
There were constables of the Boilerplate Brigade at every intersection. And the people strolling down walkways and across bridges wore pressed depthsuede suits and ruffled flexweave dresses with elegantly detailed masks that kept the smells of pollution at bay.
Even the brassteel railings gleamed with a burnished shine. He felt like he was in a stainless steel paradise up here. How could these top two floors of this vast metallic jungle be so immaculate, when the bottom six floors were so…grimy.
Floors four through six weren’t too bad. They were like second- or third-hand versions of these floors. But the lower levels? They were as dingy and soot-stained as any alley back in the Crumbles.
Running a hand along the collar of his bomber jacket, he wiped some dirt off and thought, Maybe I should’ve had my clothes dry-cleaned…Then, he took a whiff of himself, Maybe I should’ve had myself dry-cleaned.
Zeb floated around his head and said, “Oh aye, this part of the city is as posh as they come. I could see that spoiled heiress livin’ up around here. Maybe we couldn’t find her ‘cause we’ve been lookin’ in the wrong place.”
“Doubt that, old man. She only took out a couple hundred CCs. That ain’t enough to pay for anything as swanky as some of these places. Look over there,” Thode pointed at one building that was all stained-glass. “Even the walkway of that one is protected by glass. And that one over there has fraggin’ filigree on its window panes!”
“Bah, don’t let the shine of these gilded lilies blind you, boyo. They may feel high and mighty on these posh metal clouds they built for themselves, but don’t let the glitz fool you — they’re only here ‘cause the Gearmongers haven’t felt the need to raze this city to the ground.”
His gyroscopic companion’s words sent a shiver down his spine as memories of Fluxfire and brimstone swept across his vision for the barest couple of blinks.
But a harsh voice broke him out of his reverie before he lost himself. “Oi! Grease monkey! You lost or somethin’? How’d you get up here?”
It was a burly Gizmeren wearing a brassteel-plated coat with a long black handlebar mustache that blended into a bushy mutton chop beard. Clearly, the snowrunt was a part of the Boilerplate Brigade.
Thode took out his union token and held it up like a protective shield, “Here to see House Sixsmith, constable. Got a contract with them.”
That brought the Gizmeren up short, “Ah, you’re one of them. Been gettin’ you ladder-climbers all day. Head three bridges north and take a couple catwalks east. You’ll see the line before you see their House estate.”
Thode tipped an imaginary hat at the constable and said, “Thanks, sir. I’ll be on my way then.”
The Gizmeren grumbled but didn’t say anything else and Thode let out a relieved breath. He wasn’t looking to brawl with one of the Brigade. If he messed with one of them, then he messed with all of them.
No thank you.
Thode rushed off before the constable could think twice about his dirty bomber jacket. “That was a close one, eh lad?” Zeb chimed in. “That snowrunt was itchin’ for a bit of a row. That’s how them police-type are — always lookin’ to shove their weight around ‘cause they got superior numbers. Bet if he knew you were a Gearmeister he’d have thought twice about havin’ that attitude.”
“Shut it, old man. Gearmeister or not, I ain’t goin’ up against the Brigade. We’re not here to fight. We’re here for CCs so we don’t get kicked out of the city. And that’s only so we can find that blasted heiress. When we do that, that’s when I’ll be lookin’ for a brawl.”
Following the constable’s directions, it didn’t take long before Thode came right up to the back of the line. He groaned as soon as he saw it. There must have been hundreds of applicants winding down walkways. It was so long he actually stood on a hanging bridge rather than solid ground.
“Ugh, this is gonna take forever,” he lamented. As he used his telescopic vision to peer across the length of the line, he spied the glistening two story estate of House Sixsmith a few buildings over.
It was two broad floors of stained-glass with shining, stainless steel frames holding it all in place. “I wonder if they own the rest of the bottom floors of that building or just the penthouse suites…” he wondered aloud.
“You new or somethin’?” a skinny Paraburnese man wearing a heavy gray-leather duster in line with him asked. “House Sixsmith is one of the oldest Houses in Glokham. They own all eight floors of that palace and the two buildings on either side.”
Thode let out an appreciative whistle. “No wonder they’re payin’ so much. But if they’ve got so much coin, why are they hirin’ folks like us from the union rather than send their own retainers to get those gun batteries?”
The man shrugged nonchalantly, “They prolly don’t want to waste any of their manpower. It’s harder for a House to vet and hire a retainer than it is to just put up a contract and get some rusted paupers like us to do the job for ‘em. If one of us doesn’t make it, there's no sweat off their backs.”
“Aye, I can see the sense in that. Hanged Gods, maybe I should’ve taken that wolf-sentry contract. I’d probably have a better shot of gettin’ paid then,” Thode said offhandedly.
“Oh you mean that mining one?” the talkative man asked. “Don’t be fooled by that one. Ain’t no one finished it ‘cause what the contract don’t say is that it ain’t a regular pack of wolf-sentries. They're bigger and meaner than the normal model from what I’ve heard from a couple of survivors. We call ‘em direwolf-sentries round here.”
“Well that sounds absolutely terrifying. Never heard of direwolf-sentries before,” Thode replied as he suppressed a shiver.
“They’re rare around here. Only happens when the ant-drones have way too much time and resources. So instead of building more of the base models, they just build bigger ones,” the man reported.
“Umm…Y’know what? I’ll take my chances in this line after all,” Thode said uneasily.
“Aye, good call, friend. At least if we get onto one of the House Sixsmith teams, then we won’t be facin’ anything that big and bad by ourselves.”
“Wait…did you just say ‘teams?’ Plural?”
The talkative stranger nodded, “Oh, aye, they’re sendin’ a bunch of full delving teams to get what they want. What’d’ya think? That a zeppelin carrier is only gonna have a pair of main guns? No way, especially after what happened over in Arcwatch. All the big Houses are buildin’ up their fleets. House Sixsmith is lookin’ for three pairs of gun batteries for each of their carriers.”
“By the Hanged Gods, how many zeppelins are they building?” Thode asked in disbelief.
“Last I heard from a friend that works in one of their shipwright foundries, the House is footin’ the bill for a trio of new battleship carriers. All of their favorites have been working overtime the last few weeks. Can’t say I blame ‘em. Arcwatch was nasty business from what I’ve heard.”
Thode grew somber at the mention of his hometown and mumbled, “You don’t know the half of it…”