Dime awoke to the buzzing of fluorescent lights, white noise that snugly embraced him in a warm hug. A blurry world came into focus as his eyes adjusted, and he brought an arm up to shield his face from the harsh brightness. When he sat up, he did so slowly, every part of his body burning with a fatigue deep within his bones. Plastic curtains surrounded his bed to ensure his privacy, and a simple wooden chair rested to his left, where Snake slept with her head on her arms on top of the backrest.
Experimentally, he pulled the covers back, sliding out of bed and planting both feet on the ground. But when he tried to stand on his own, a wave of dizziness knocked him off balance. Snake shot up in her chair to the sound of her desk tipping over and a bunch of reagents splattering across the floor. When her head whipped around she saw broken glass scattered across the tile floor, blood mixing with chemicals as Dime tried to stand up again.
“You’re awake! Don’t—don’t move. The healing process can leave you really tired, you shouldn’t try being up and walking around.”
“Where’s—what happened to everyone? Is everyone okay?”
“Don’t worry, we’re all fine enough. Vola and Mei aren’t feeling well after returning, though…”
“Did they find Kyki?”
Snake sighed, uncorking a potion of healing from her hip. With great care, she used tweezers to pick out bits of broken glass from Dime’s skin, applying just enough of the neon green salve to smooth over the wounds with skin.
“No… on their way to the headquarters, they ran into a monster. A new kind. Barely made it out alive.”
“A mutation?”
“Seems like it. It’s been especially bad this year. The Wall Collective put out a statement apologizing for letting Voidhounds break in. Apparently, they’re sturdier and larger than normal by a significant margin.”
“You mean the ones we killed the day the Dust came in?”
“Yup, those ones. It’s more aggressive this year: way more. The Voidman…”
Snake paused, a bitter taste in her mouth.
“...the one that got you, they’ve never attacked before. Public information on them says they only watch from far away. Supposed to be rare, too.”
“Guess that makes me special?” chimed Dime, a small smile on their face.
The anxiety in her limbs crumbled away, the relief welling up in her chest as she pulled him to his feet.
“C’mon, lean on me. Dave threw together a wheelchair after he got back. Motorized, too.”
“Ooh. I always wanted to try the Happy Wheels wheelchair.”
“Not that motorized.”
It was a well-built metal frame, for all the lack of credit Snake offered it. Dave wasn’t the resident handyman for nothing. Snake rolled the wheelchair out into the lobby with Dime nestled in the seat, where various robots clinked and clanked. In their hands they held various tools, some propping up sheets of metal for others to bolt together. The product was a kind of ugly, ramshackle wall to replace the big windows that ordinarily characterized the front of the building. Not even the glass doors escaped, having been shattered in the battle. Dave sat on one of the less-damaged couches, tinkering with some small parts when he saw the two exit.
“Hey. Snake told me what happened. Are you feeling better?”
“Tired. But fine.”
“Did you try out the motors?”
Dime experimentally pressed a red button on the side of the armchair. It emitted a quiet whirring noise to indicate it was on, and when he nudged a joystick on the right arm the chair sped forwards a short distance. Then he overcorrected to stop it and nearly backed up the wheelchair into Snake’s shins.
“Woah! It’s cool but it’s kind of hard to control.”
“You’ll get used to it. I think you can drift if you try hard enough.”
“You can drift in this?”
“We’ll find out. Can you still use your Empowerment?”
He lifted an arm limply, flicking a wrist outward with a flourish. It was accompanied by a shower of copper coins, tinkling as they bounced off Dave’s helmet.
“Still works just fine. It’s just my body that’s tired.”
“Thank your natural regeneration,” said Snake, ”Without it you probably wouldn’t have made it. Still don’t understand how demon biology works.”
“I dunno. I’m not a biologist.”
“Me neither, but I know they’re rarely conceived between two Empowered parents, and that they always gain an Empowerment somewhat early in life. Maybe with some blood samples I could find out more…”
Briefly, Dime recalled the memory of what the robot general had told him, deep in the forest all those years ago. His tired smile faded away to an uncomfortable deadpan.
“Please don’t.”
“Ah, well, if you don’t want to I won’t force you. It’s for the best. You do need to recover the energy you’ve spent healing.”
Unze came downstairs, a little sleepy from the nap he’d been having. Scruffy hair was held back only by his mask, a stylized cat’s face scrawled on the front.
“Mmm… is Dime doing okay?”
“Tired, but fine,” said Snake, “How’s Kat? Is she still…?”
“I’ll check. You know, I haven’t seen Rico for a while, either.”
Buried among the wires and scrap metal, Kat had jury rigged her own Techstream with which to interface with the internet. Rico sat in a cheap metal folding chair, watching Kat as she flicked around the inside of a flatscreen television. Occasionally, she’d zip away to a different screen in the workshop, pulling up panels of light to view and digging through visual manifestations of folders. Rico turned to see the rest of the gang picking their way through Dave’s mess of parts.
“Hey guys, I’ve been helping Kat keep track of her work.”
“What’s she doing, exactly?” said Unze.
“Kat, show them the stuff you’ve dug up.”
Kat waved from inside the screen, tossing up a bunch of glowing panels and manila folders. The panels glimmered with scenes of robotic guards strolling past chain link fences, the gray monotony of industrial buildings, and the hallways of a reception area.
“Take a look, everyone. I’ve managed to pierce their outer layer of security. I can see through all their low-level cameras and poke through their less-important files.”
Snake glanced over all the different camera feeds, noting, “None of those show us where Kyki could be. Have you read through all the files?”
“Yup. Chock full of meaningless quarterly reports and internal documents. Nothing actually important is stored on their accessible harddrives.”
Dime sighed, slouching in his metal wheelchair.
“So we have to break in there ourselves to rescue them.”
“I’m good at building animatronics, but I wouldn’t try taking on their entire military-industrial complex,” said Dave. “Their manufacturing capabilities outstrip mine many times over.”
“So you’re telling me we need help from someone else,” said Rico.
“Pretty much. We’d be gutted a dozen times over otherwise.”
“Do you think Den would know anything? You’ve been talking with him a lot, probably, while you were building him a new body. Any connections?”
“We didn’t talk about those things. Just about putting him in a body capable of using his Empowerment.”
Rico rubbed his eyes, thinking hard about what to do.
“Acid, maybe? No, probably not… Is there no one we can turn to?”
Kat twiddled her fingers nervously, trying to put her thoughts into words.
“Well. There was this weird thing that happened to me before I arrived—"
Their conversation was interrupted by the rapping of knuckles on the shoddy steel door Dave had installed to replace the old glass doors. It rang true, drowning out the pitter patter of rain.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
“I’ll get it,” said Snake. When she did open the door, she flung it open and backpedaled, afraid of some kind of ambush. Instead there was merely a well-dressed man, wearing a suit with a matching top hat of too-tall size. His looming stature meant he leered down at Snake through a monocle, a cheerful grin across his mustached face. When he spoke, he did it with an accent that screamed ‘high-society’.
“Good evening, madam. Apologies for the inconvenient time of contact. I’ve been sent by my superiors to offer you help with your… ‘problem’.”
“And what problem is that? Who are you?”
He bowed deeply to the extent where it became a little unsettling.
“Mr. Ridge, resident broker of Architectural Constructions. We heard you’ve been having a minor robot problem?”
“From who?”
“Your posse was all over the news quite recently. We’ve noticed.”
“What kind of help?”
“That is something to be discussed in depth with the executives. I only need an affirmation of interest.”
“You could have reached out online.”
“Heavens, no. Not with the kind of surveillance our common enemy possesses.”
Snake cast a glance back into the lobby, thinking of the others.
“It’s not a decision I can make alone. Let me get everyone else down here, then we’ll talk.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Snake stepped aside to let the man into the hotel and out of the rain. She peeked her head into the doorway of the workshop, calling to everyone inside.
“Pause for a second, everyone. The help we wanted might be here.”
“That’s kind of convenient timing, isn’t it?” said Rico.
“Let’s find out. Unze, go get the others. Den, Acid, and Wisp. Dave, can you get one of your minions to carry Vola and Mei out here?”
“Sure thing. Gimme a minute.
Unze thought the whole thing felt a little weird, but he wasn’t one to argue. He just waited in the elevator, watching the number tick upwards as he headed to where Wisp would be, up in his penthouse. He hadn’t seen him for a while now, and it felt awkward to just barge in, so he took a deep breath, or two, or three before putting his hand on the doorknob.
Huh. It was unlocked.
Gently, he turned the knob, pushing open the door with a soft shove. He shuffled through the suite, eerily silent.
“Wisp? There’s something we need you for. I know you like to sleep, but you can’t stay up here forever…”
He stood before the bedroom, and upon hearing no answer, entered without even bothering to knock. Inside, everything was pristine. The only light was from what little daylight could make it through the cloudy rainy skies outside, and the lamp on his nightstand illuminating the bedside. Right there, in front of him, was Wisp, slumped over the edge of the bed as if he’d suddenly collapsed on the spot.
“Wisp? Something wrong?”
His hand hesitated, reaching out for Wisp’s shoulder. The moment his fingertips made contact, Wisp stood up, whirling around to make eye contact. In his eyes was a frazzled excitement he’d never seen from the guy before, accompanied by limbs trembling with unreleased energy.
“Are you okay?”
Wisp gave him a smile that shone like a million radiant sunbeams. To Unze, it was just as blinding. Something had changed, but he couldn’t tell what. He could only feel concerned as Wisp giggled, making a shooing motion with one hand.
“Okay?”
He whipped a sharp kitchen knife out of a drawer, brandishing it wildly. Before Unze could put his hands up or say anything, Wisp sank the tip into his arm, burying it into the flesh and drawing a line all the way down to his wrist. Before the motion of the wound even finished, his body was already healing; skin snapped together and threads of muscle intertwined at a speed beyond anything Unze had seen before. There wasn’t even any bleeding.
“I’d say I’m a little more than OKAY!”
Unze held up his hands in deescalating surrender.
“That’s great, but, someone came here for something, and we need everyone in the lobby for a talk. Can you come down with me? I need everyone else in their rooms to come down as well.”
The mania slowly ground to halt, and Wisp left the bloodstained knife behind to walk out the door.
“Oh, ah, yes, for sure! I’ll see you down there.”
By the time he reached the bottom floor, Mr. Ridge was reclining on the couch, a cup of tea in his hands. Rather than speak formally Wisp said what was on his mind.
“I didn’t know we had tea.”
“We don’t,” said Rico. “He just pulled it out of nowhere. Don’t look at me, I dunno.”
Mr. Ridge smiled gracefully. “Don’t mind me, I get thirsty before a good old-fashioned negotiation.”
Den and Acid came down the elevator like normal people, pointing at the strange man.
“Who’s this?” said Den.
“I’ve never seen this guy in my life,” said Acid.
Unze pushed both of them out of the elevator. “That’s Mr. Ridge, from…”
“Architectural Constructions,” he replied. “It’s a pleasure to meet all of you today. I hope the deal I have in mind will be the same.”
Two metal endoskeletons came down from the stairs shortly afterward, each one holding Mei or Vola.
Vola lifted her head in a tired haze. “Ugh… I still feel like shit. Whatever it was, I never want to see it again.”
Mei was similarly draped over her own robot, a waterfall of hair swinging back and forth. “I wanna go back to sleep…”
“Sorry,” said Dave, “This seems pretty important, so we all have to be out here.”
Snake sat in an armchair opposite to Mr. Ridge, hands clasped. “We’re all here now. Mind telling us about that deal you mentioned?”
The broker looked around at all the people gathered around. Dave stood leaning on the chair behind Snake, Kat off to the side looking worried. Rico pushed Dime’s wheelchair up to the table while Unze, Acid, and Den took their places on the couch. Wisp paced in circles around the chairs and tables and couches, the endoskeletons dropping the two injured onto empty couches nearby.
“Before I get into the weeds,” he said, “I have to ask; I believe one of you is missing. There’s a certain someone I’m sure lives here with the rest of you, correct?”
A somber mood crept up the necks of everyone else present, even Den’s wholly robotic body.
Snake looked down shamefully, almost like it had been her fault. “They were taken. They should’ve come back that day, but…”
“It was Automotive Industries. They must have kidnapped them for leverage on us,” said Wisp.
Mr. Ridge took another sip of tea. “Have you verified this? Could it not be that they were instead incapacitated by a criminal gang seeking an easy target, or perhaps some new brand of--”
Wisp kicked the couch Mr. Ridge was sitting on with enough force to shift its position slightly and break his own toe. He swore in between words.
“NO. I won’t accept it. It has to be them. The timing is just too convenient. I’ll break them out of there no matter what it takes.”
The broker sighed and put down his teacup on a little platter. “If so, why haven’t they contacted you to use your friend as a hostage? Surely they would offer some kind of trade deal; your friend’s life in exchange for your coin-slinging friend’s life.”
Dime slouched in his wheelchair a little grumpier at the mention. Wisp ruffled his hair in frustration instead, pacing faster in smaller and smaller circles.
“I don’t know!” he said, “But it couldn’t be anyone else! It wouldn’t make sense! What do you even get from telling me this?”
“I don’t mean to cast doubt on your desire to save your friend, just wanted to make sure you know what you’re doing. If it is your goal to see our imminent robotic overlords humbled, then we are of the same mind, if only for now,” Mr. Ridge said.
Wisp slumped over one of the couches with a huff. “So what’s your big idea? Sending a bunch of soldiers in there to blow them up?”
“Heavens, no! Corporate war is far too costly to even consider that. Not to mention the collateral damage… there’s a bit of an unspoken agreement, you see, to never mobilize against each other.”
Mr. Ridge pulled out a small toothpick, pinching it in both fingers and applying pressure until it snapped.
“But, of course… We don’t know how long that peace will last. Someday we may have to fight for real. Rest assured every company is prepared to wage war in their own way.”
Snake eyed him grimly. “You want us to be your proxy, right?”
“Right you are! A shell company or two and we can funnel you resources for whatever ends you may need.” Mr. Ridge crossed his legs, impressed. “Quick on the uptake. But I suppose I couldn’t expect anything less from you.”
Rico jabbed a thumb at him. “You know him, Snake?”
“No. We’ve never met.”
“I’ve passed her by once or twice, you might say,” said Mr. Ridge. “So what do you say? Not a bad deal, eh? Break into Automotive Industries for us and we’ll do anything we can to make it happen.”
Dime rolled his wheelchair forward with an intense look on his face. “This reeks of a catch. If you’re not gonna tell us upfront you can see yourself out.”
“A catch? I’d hardly call it that. All we need you to do is a little sabotage.”
Mr. Ridge tossed down a rough blueprint, everyone leaning in a bit to peek. The unrolled schematic depicted the large HQ of Automotive Industries along with some sketches of what could lie beneath.
“Down there, “ he said, “That’s where they store their robotic construction division. I’d like to see to it that they are disincentivized from dipping their toes into industries they don’t belong in.”
Dave ran his fingers over the paper. “I don’t see an exact location…”
Mr. Ridge nodded. “We can’t give away everything we know as a freebie. It’s not like we know, anyway-- we’re only capable of reading the rough room layout, and where there are for sure cavities in the rock below.”
Mei sat up on the couch tiredly, slouching with fatigue hewn into her body language. “No way we’re ready to take them on. We almost died to one crab-thing out there. Plus if we all went, who would make sure robots wouldn’t sneak in and blow the hotel up?”
The broker flashed her a card from his coat, covered in gaudy gold and striped in black.
“A Mercenary Union Gold Membership opens a lot of doors, my friend. We’ve got in-house manpower to spare as well, so rest assured nothing will happen to your hotel here. Some cones and scaffolding, hi-vis vests and hard hats and suddenly you’re working on a construction project. Plausible deniability is the name of the game, miss.”
He gestured to the ruined front windows covered up to prevent the rain from coming in.
“And I expect you might need a few actual repairs done around here, anyways.”
Acid leaned back in her seat thoughtfully. “What kind of resources are we talking about here? I’m not sure what kind of things an architect/construction company can provide.”
“Something like this.” Mr. Ridge slammed a rectangular device onto the table, a boxy shape marked by strange cone-shaped protrusions and a sharp metal nail coming out of the bottom. “A smaller model of one of our surveyors. Plant it in the ground and it’ll automatically map out the area around and below it. You’ll find it useful for navigating the interior complex of their headquarters.”
Den picked it up and turned it over in his metal palms. “That doesn’t sound like a lot. This is like a couple thousand chits, maybe more… but that’s it?”
“The rest of the money will go towards procurement of other gadgets, and perhaps hired help if you’re so inclined. Mercenaries do anything for the right price.”
Snake rubbed her chin in thought. “Could I ask you to step out for a second? There’s some things we need to discuss. Wisp, could you show him around? I’ll call you back on the PA when it’s time to come back.”
“Uh-- me?” He pointed to himself. “But I…”
She looked at him with eyes that crushed the idea of arguing once and for all. He stepped away from the center of the room and gestured to the elevator.
“Well, Mr. Ridge, why don’t you come with me? There are some things I’m curious about.”
“Certainly, sir. Or would you rather I called you Wisp?”
“Anything’s fine. I don’t really care much.”
The ka-chunk of the elevator shifting as it went up was the only sound in the cabin, both standing idly listening to the whirr of the motors. Despite his words, Wisp found his throat dry and no questions coming to mind. It made for a very awkward thirty seconds or so, trying to collect himself.
Mr. Ridge adjusted his sleeve cuffs. “Where are we going, exactly?”
“Oh, uh, I wanted to ask about a hole in our wall. Voidhound, a big one, came crashing through it. Dave patched it up for now, but we’d like it fully fixed so hopefully nothing else can come through.”
The intermediary beheld the ruined hallway and the large hole in the wall with mild surprise. “Must’ve been a large one. Not quite as big as a Wallbreaker, though.”
Wisp shrugged. “We’re lucky it hasn’t been worse. I have a feeling this is around the time that more Dustlings come, weirder or stronger ones. Happens every year.”
“Of course. Last year was those skyfish. Could hardly go outside to do anything without being ambushed. Horrible, those flying bullets were.”
“Would it be possible?”
Mr. Ridge eyed the damage through a monocle. “Possible? Easily. It’s merely a matter of cost. Working in these suboptimal conditions under threat of attack costs extra, of course.”
“Does the deal cover all that?” asked Wisp.
“Naturally. I have my honor as a broker. Goodwill is worth far more than a small bump to our bottom line once or twice, I’ve come to find.”
“Good to hear. Sorry about the mess here. I swear the rest of the hotel isn’t like this. The penthouse is pretty good, honestly.”
“Really? I’ll have to see it then.”
The penthouse wasn’t particularly incredible compared to the other luxury hotels in the city. The broker knew as much, but the place still had some kind of charm inherent to lower-budget lodgings. He appreciated the effort Aric had taken in making sure the place looked nice, even without the ludicrous resources others commanded. The interior felt distinctly cabin-y, like a forest lodge teleported to the top floor of the hotel.
“The owner must be quite the eccentric man, isn’t he?” he said.
Wisp poured out two wine glasses of champagne, sipping from one without any of the grace and decorum of an upperclassman. “Tell me about it. I’m basically stuck to talking to him over the phone.”
“An interesting character.” Mr. Ridge drank a little of the alcohol, savoring the taste. Surprisingly good for a place so run-down as this. “Why do you work here, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Unemployable basically everywhere else. He was the only guy willing to give me a chance.” Wisp strolled over to the glass doors, opening them and leaning on the balcony railing. A massive overhang protected them from the rain, though the relentless wind made sure he wasn’t ever comfortable.
Mr. Ridge joined him, arms resting on the metal bars. The city below looked so much smaller from up here, especially with the unusual height of Toothland Hotel. “Good you got hired, then. Unfortunate to be caught up in all this mess, though.”
Wisp turned to him. “What about you? You’re caught up in this mess too. What’s with Architectural Constructions and Automotive Industries?”
The broker sipped his champagne and then flicked the glass over his shoulder, where it landed face down perfectly onto a wooden table, without even a nick. “Typical competition and whatnot. The robots are far more ambitious than the rest of us, though. You’d think they were gunning for world domination.”
“Isn’t that all corporations?”
“Maybe in another time. But I’m an old, old man, Wisp. I was a lad when the Dust appeared for the first time, and I’ve seen what happened to everyone’s spirits since then. Just living is tough, knowing that you could die at any time with new Empowerments cropping up all the time and Dust monsters appearing whenever they feel like.”
Mr. Ridge took a cigarette out of a little box in his coat pocket, lighting it with a lighter hidden up his sleeve and taking a long drag. “My opinion… growth at all costs isn’t something anyone can afford. Most of us are just happy to live another day without having to worry about money or monsters.”
He held out a cigarette to Wisp too, but he turned it down with a wave. A gust of wind put out the cigarette in his mouth, flinging it into the darkness of the storm, much to his frustration.
“Just my luck,” he grumbled.
Wisp smiled. “Tell me about it. Let’s go back inside before the wind changes and we’re soaked.”
The middleman slipped back into the penthouse, holding the door open for Wisp. “I’m only here to pitch you all a deal, but I really mean it when I say: I hope you find who you’re looking for.”
“Me too, sir,” he sighed, “...me too.