The warehouse laid dormant as the band of Proxies excised the Dimmed that had taken root inside of it. Vande had agreed to let the other Proxies board his train in exchange for saving him, his crew, and the crops he was tasked to deliver to the distant, northern city of Holstein. With a mode of transport secured and a day of travel ahead of them, the party takes this time to recover and to resupply.
Cass slept like a corpse in a vacant cot. The room itself was spacious, a welcome surprise to the larger Proxies that watched over his rest. The wounds he suffered were properly treated and bandaged by Oriol who sat beside him alongside Isles and Vox, although Isles was there solely to babysit the robot. As was her contract.
Oriol leaned back in her chair, canting her head to the side to face Isles. "So, what did you and Razel find in the remains of the Dimmed? You said you wanted to report something."
"Yeah. Here," she replied coldly, pulling out a folded up pamphlet from her jacket pocket. The paper was old, weathered, and corroded along its edges. Oriol's gloves protected her hands from the slimy mucus coating the ruined edges of the parchment. She shot the taller woman a concerned glance, but was met with an apathetic, uncaring stare in return.
"What?" Isles asked, her brows knitting together as if to assess Oriol's distressed gaze.
"Do yourself a favor and clean both yourself and your jacket once Razel and Strafe finish their showers."
"It's just stomach acid. Nothing dangerous."
"Is stomach acid bad, Miss Oriol?" Vox asked from her seat that was wedged between Isles and Oriol, her short legs idly kicking in the air.
"It can be, not to mention it's disgusting," Oriol answered firmly.
"Oohhh... ew..." Vox then scooted closer to Oriol, pinching the edges of her small nose that was designed to look like a power button as if to call Isles 'stinky'. "Please go shower! You know ma doesn't like you being all grimy!"
"Fine." Isles gave in with a subdued growl to her voice.
"Good. Now, let's see here..." Oriol thumbed through the pages of the pamphlet. The contents found within detailing a grandiose shopping mall found within Corriente's Outer Ring. The cities of Dawn were structured in "rings'' to house infrastructure and facilities suitable for the different sizes of its citizens. Astrals, being the predominant species on Dawn, came in all shapes and sizes; as such it proved necessary to have the Outer Rings be where the larger citizens reside and vice versa.
"If this was found inside of that Dimmed, then that means it must've moved very recently. Especially with how much of the pamphlet is still in-tact," Oriol mused, wondering how a monstrosity of that scale was able to travel so quickly, let alone traverse at all. It did not have any limbs aside from its many tendrils. "The mall is worth a look. We might find something there that gives us insight into the fall of Corriente. At the very least, another lead to follow."
"Yeah. I know where it is." Isles enlightened.
"You did mention you had contacts in the Undermarkets, just how much do you really know?" Oriol interrogated, placing the pamphlet down on a bedside table within reach. "Even Razel was doubtful of you despite hiring you, and I believe she has reasons to suspect you. What's your goal here, really?"
"Why does it matter? She suspects you too. You're not innocent, Fed," Isles said, not bothering to turn her head to face Oriol. But the slow movement of her haunting eye that affixed its icy gaze onto Oriol was more than enough to send a shiver down her spine.
"H-hey!" Vox called out with a distressed tone. The tension that was building up between the two matured women urged it to speak up lest they went for each others' throats. "We're all in this together! Remember? That's the only thing that matters!"
Oriol and Isles fall silent upon hearing Vox's naively optimistic pleas. They both had a nagging thought at the backs of their minds that made them believe in Vox's simple-minded faith. But, they would rather not provoke the ire of Razel if Vox were to run off crying to her.
"Sure," Isles growled. Oriol and Vox watched as she stood up and took off her treasured jacket. With the black leather being peeled off her body, her muscular arms could be seen in their full glory. Her snug tank-top was the only fabric keeping her top-heavy torso modest as she threw her jacket over her wide shoulders.
"You're right Vox, we are in this together. But I'll be keeping an eye out for her, someone has too," Oriol spoke with a sly smirk upon seeing Isles take off her jacket.
"Keep those eyes of yours looking ahead. You're going to have other problems to worry about. I can handle myself," Isles' curt retortion provoked an aggravated scowl to tug on Oriol's lips, a scowl that quickly left upon hearing an unfamiliar voice accompanied by three knocks of the closed door.
"May I come in?" asked a feminine voice beyond the other side.
Isles, being closest to the door, opened it without a response. Standing on the other side was an Astral that was of similar height to Vande, though sporting a lithe and nimble physique. Her light-brown fur was clad in a uniform akin to Vande's own, with the exemption of the lofty hat he wore like a crown. A pair of long, droopy rabbit ears rested comfortably upon her shoulders as a pair of ivory antlers poked out from the fluffy, hair alike the warm hues of dusk that blanketed her head.
Oriol took notice of the estoc that was of equal length to the jackalope. It was contained within a bulky, steel scabbard that housed various gauges, circuitry, and valves as the low, constant humming of flowing electricity emanated from the weapon. The scabbard was strapped to her back with the estoc's bright yellow hilt peeking over her shoulder. The black bands that wrapped around the length of the hilt made it appear like a caution sign one would find in a workplace.
"I spoke with our Postmaster, she was able to recognize the pin that came off of him," the Astral spoke as she presented one of the augmentation pins. Her thumb idly ran over the silver face of the pin, feeling the texture of the engravings written in a foreign scripture glide over the coarse, small paw-pad of her thumb. "She said the scripture here is Scorpi, apparently it's a popular augment down in Scorpio. But, seeing how it's brimming with openly run black markets, I'm not surprised. 'Silverback Pins' are their name."
"But what does it do, Break? Is it just a strength enhancer?" Oriol asked, turning her head to face Cass who continued his deep, undisturbed sleep. "Because seeing how he was able to move earlier I would guess it could do far more than just strength enhancement."
"Correct, Ms. Sawyer described it as an overall enhancer. It boosts one's speed, reflexes, stamina...the works," Break said, stepping towards the cot Cass slept upon. The three Proxies in the room watched as the jackalope ran her claw capped finger along the numerous pins that were embedded within his body. A frown grew upon her short muzzle with each pin her finger gently brushed over, her hazel eyes taking in his mangled scars with melancholic sympathy.
"Ms. Sawyer said that it is abnormal for any one person to have as many pins as him, most stop at four, one for each limb. But Cass has six times that. According to her, each pin is supposed to equate to the strength of twenty men."
"At the expense of Radiance," Isles interjected, watching as Break turned to face her with a sorrowful nod of her head.
"Yes, and yet he was still capable of wearing runeweave. His RL should've been entirely depleted for having that many pins, especially for an Astral of his size," Break remarked. She turned to face the bedside table that was beside Cass's cot, placing the pin she held onto upon its polished surface. "Us small-folk have hearts that are smaller than the average Radiant or Astral, as such our Radiance production is much lower. It really is amazing he was able to live with those augments for as long as he has."
"Right, and Rye said he suspected the pin that fell off from his punctured chest was enough to trigger a Miracle, or something like it. I thought his ability to use Radiance, let alone a Miracle, was more than a foregone conclusion. But even then Miracles are a nebulous science," Oriol added as she stood up from her seat.
"There must be something else going on, unless he is capable of controlling which pins are activated..." her voice trailed on as she rested her fist against her chin in contemplation. "But, all we can do for now is to keep monitoring his condition. It'd be dangerous to pry those pins off of him by force seeing how deeply embedded they are."
"Are we done? I need to wash up," Isles huffed, her apathetic voice showing a hint of impatience.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
"Ah, right. I suppose that is all the information Ms. Sawyer was willing to impart," Break said, eyeing Isles confusedly from her sudden announcement. "But yes, that is all from my end. Thank you again for saving Vande and our cargo, even though you were all there originally for a particular individual."
"Guilty as charged!" Vox chimed, though prodding its two index fingers together as it hung its head low, crestfallen. "But I'm sorry for the trouble I caused... I promise not to follow strangers and to not stray from the group!"
"At least you've learned your lesson," Oriol said, giving Vox a pat on its metal head as the robot's twin-tails swayed happily. "But for now let's leave the recruit to rest. I'll get started on making a decent meal for all of us before we sleep."
"Meal, nice," Isles said with a firm nod before making her way out of the room. Vox, Break, and Oriol followed behind, but before Oriol shut the door behind her, she turned to give one last look at Cass's sleeping form.
"Don't die on us yet."
The Proxies gathered within a cramped dining area as Oriol manned the kitchenette. Affixed to the wall was a small oven as sturdy, translucent pipes fueled the appliance with a stream of Radiance that glowed with a brilliant emerald sheen.
Across from the kitchenette was a simple, circular dining table. Razel sat beside Strafe, watching her tapping away at the keys of a bulky laptop with intense focus. She knew that her lover was entrusted with compiling anything and everything they found during their outing in written logs. A suitable duty for one who was not capable of combat.
Isles sat across from Strafe as a damp towel hung off of the wolf-folk's shoulders. Her arms draped lazily over the backrest of the chair she slumped against. The Proxies were in their causal-wear, as Razel simply had on a white shirt that accentuated her well-defined, athletic frame and a pair of black sweatpants. Comparatively, Strafe was a more heavyset woman who took comfort in an oversized, yellow sweater and a pair of matching pajama shorts.
Break and Vox assisted Oriol with the cooking as she diced a batch of prepared potatoes into cubed chunks to be roasted within a casserole dish. Oriol worked on chopping up stalks of green onions, crisp red bell-peppers, and plump tomatoes into small, precise cuts. All to be added to the dish alongside the potatoes.
"I think my idea of whole, baked potatoes would've been suitable," Oriol spoke dejectedly, pouring the cut vegetables into a large bowl, and combining them with red beans that came from packaged tin cans.
"Suitable, sure, but it would've been bland," Break added, placing the potato chunks within the casserole dish as she showered them with a glaze of olive oil. "Conductor Vandeveer has a high standard for his meals. He usually does the cooking, but seeing how he's busy with giving Rye an extended tour, it lands on us. Not to mention you did want to cook."
"Hm, fair," Oriol gave in, letting loose a small laugh. "It is endearing to see Rye be so enamored by a train. I guess the Sagittari people don't really get to see vehicles everyday, even if your model is dated."
"If I knew any better I wouldn't be surprised if the big guy went on to work with the Skyrunners," Razel remarked from her seat. "Heh, imagining a lug like him working as a Public Servant Proxy. How did you even land this gig, Break? Heard a lot from you and your half-baked Conductor from my daughter."
"Daughter?" Break asked, turning to face Razel with a confused frown. Oriol herself knew that the daughter in question was Vox, although to openly call a machine that is abnormal.
"Vox, obviously. Who else on-board would be my daughter?" Razel corrected as Break responded with an awkward laugh.
"R-right. Well, Ms. Sawyer, our Postmaster, found me alone during one of her deliveries across the Sequoia Wildlands," Break reminisced with a pained smile, opening the oven door to remove the dish of now roasted potatoes. "I had found myself abandoned by my tribe and was wandering aimlessly. But, Ms. Sawyer offered me a place with her people. Had I not joined her stead I'm certain I'd be long dead."
"Huh, no kidding. Rye's the same way," Razel added, watching as Oriol poured the bowl of vegetables inside the casserole dish as Vox topped it with shredded cheddar and sprinklings of black pepper and paprika. "Although our boss is a wild one. Still think it's fucked she hired a Grade 9 with this contract."
"But he shows promise, far more than a regular Grade 9," Oriol said as she placed the dish into the oven once more to let it bake. "Not to mention a regular Grade 9 would not have moved the way he did against those automatons. Augmentations aside, he's experienced."
"How experienced?" Isles chimed in, curious to know how deep Oriol's assessment went.
"All I can say for certain is that his decision-making and the way he moves are more aligned with a Grade 6 or Grade 5 Proxy," Oriol answered, leaning against the petite refrigerator of the kitchenette with her arms crossed underneath her chest. "It's only been a day, I'm sure we'll have all the time in the world to question him."
"I just hope we find the secrets to Corriente so that we can put all of its intrigue to rest. That city has been the cause of many Proxies going missing since the news broke out in the 50s," Strafe said as she closed her laptop and stored it away within the backpack that leaned against the legs of her chair.
"Closure would be nice," Isles said, turning her head to face Rye and Vande who walked into the small dining room through a narrow corridor.
"And that's the tour, I haven't had to do one of those. Sorry if it was too exhaustive," Vande said with a nervous chuckle as Rye shook his head dismissively.
"We are proud to be your first, no need for apologies. But now we must feast! We all had an arduous day, so let us celebrate today's survival with a good meal and a night's rest," Rye proclaimed. Those gathered all breathed in a ravenous inhale of the wafting scents from the freshly baked dinner Oriol and her two assistants had finished making. The enticing scents coerced the Proxies to swarm the kitchenette
"Single file line, everyone!" Oriol instructed, pointing her ladle at Razel who tried to nudge Isles out of the first serving. Laughter soon erupted from Strafe and Break as Vox worked cautiously to gather drinks for the Proxies.
* * *
Hours passed, and with it, an awakened Cass. His small, black nose twitched from the lovely scent of baked food that encouraged his body to sit up from his cot. He ran a groggy hand through the messy, curly locks of his hair as he turned his head to face a powered-down Vox who sat at the foot of his bed.
Seeing her rest next to his cot filled him with deep relief. He was worried that she had been damaged after falling unconscious, but it seemed that everything worked out in the end. With the scent of melted cheese causing his stomach to rumble hungrily, he pulled himself out of bed. His blurred, golden eyes gazed down upon his naked torso, staring down upon the bandages that were around his breast where he was stabbed.
He gingerly touched the bandaged wound with the palm of his hand, expecting to feel a stinging pain, only to be met with a familiar sensation. Numbness.
With a grim frown, he left the room. He stumbled through the corridor, using the closed in walls to support himself as he walked. Numerous doors lined the hallway, each leading into an identical bedroom as the one he left. The largest door located in the center of the hall led to the sole bathroom that was shared between everyone on-board. He could feel the waves of steam roll out from underneath the door, warming his feet as he walked past.
Following the lovely scents of cooked food, he made his way into the dining room. His strained eyes made out two fuzzy figures who sat next to each other at the small table, figures he recognized to be Razel and Strafe.
Across from the two was a bowl of roasted potatoes, mixed with red beans and chopped vegetables, and topped with a generous helping of melted cheddar. Strafe pushed the bowl closer to the table's edge, an inviting gesture that Cass took as he sat himself down from across the two.
"We just wanted to thank you for saving Vox," Strafe started with a warm smile, "I know Razel says a lot of nonsense, but we are both proud and thankful for what you did. Are you feeling any better? You must be seeing how you're moving around already. We were going to wake you up to have you eat if you hadn't done so by then."
"I'm able to walk, that's more than I could've hoped for after being, you know..." Cass's voice trailed on, gripping at his chest. The burning pain he had felt back at the warehouse caused his fur to stand on their ends as he remembered it in grave detail. "But I'm just happy she's okay."
"I know you had said that I needed to prove my worth, to not weigh you down," he said, eyeing Razel who met his gaze with a ruminating frown. "But know that I did not save her solely for merit. I just want that to be clear."
"And we didn't say that, Cass. We're still thankful either way," Razel remarked as she leaned back against the chair, using her large, bushy tail as a cushioned backrest. "But keep saying shit like that and I'll start believing you have selfish motives."
"Seems like I'm going to have my hands full dealing with two hard-heads," Strafe sighed with a weary smile. "But enjoy your meal, it should help replenish your RL. Oh, which reminds me. We'll be leaving in the afternoon to visit a shopping mall in the Outer Ring."
"Yeah, I found a pamphlet inside that Dimmed that's been giving us trouble. Apparently the disgusting freak might've hit up a mall on the way out to the farms. Oriol says there could be leads there, so that's where we're heading," Razel surmised, watching as Cass scooped up a pile of the steaming food with his fork.
"Shopping mall? I'm sure that place must've been raided by then, right? Judging from what Isles has been saying, we're not likely the first ones to travel into the city," Cass said before biting down on his food. His eyes widening in delight from the taste as his slender tail swayed blissfully.
"Raided, definitely. But there could be clues all the same. It's worth a look judging by what we found," Strafe added as she placed a pair of glasses before Cass.
They were his. The broken arm that was once stuck onto the metal frame with thick duct tape was now screwed on. The repair being carefully and respectfully done by Strafe. "I did say I was going to offer you my repair kit, but I figured I'd do it for you while you slept. Just let me know if it fits on too tight, okay?"
Cass gingerly took his beloved glasses into his possession. Looking up to Strafe and Razel with quivering eyes that struggled to hold back his sentiments as the two looked on with delighted smiles.
"Well, we'll let you enjoy your meal!" Strafe said as she and Razel stood up from their seats.
"Yeah, good night, Cass," Razel added with a small yawn from her end.
"Buenas noches," Cass replied with a small wave of his hand, watching the two lovers walk toward a corridor opposite from which he had entered. Alone, he enjoyed the rest of his meal, unsure of what to expect on the day that was laid before him. But the only thing he knew for certain was that he had to survive.
He had to come out victorious if he wished to see Fritz again. To see him happy.