Monday, November 20, 2017
Wednesday, June 21, 2017
Making rookie mistakes so you don't have to. (TM)
The ground shaking tephra impacts that had set the ridgeline ablaze became less frequent but in the din of the roaring fire above her, it seemed to Elena that her struggle to move forward in the slick mud that coated the hillside still made no sound at all.
Friday, September 21, 2012
Interlude
Ailek took a swig of marsh, waited for a moment to feel the fire begin to ebb from his limbs and walked towards the cage. He walked past the other cages with the steely-eyed stoic chirops, the wide eyed huddled lemur-men, the softly whimpering humans, the three empty cages only to stop at the one that was most full. Scurrying around, lighting up the cave in a purple panic were close to thirty cuttle babies of various sizes. Ailek steadied himself with an outstretched arm at the gate. The last swig of marsh he had had, was not even close to the first of the day. Some back part of his mind scolded him for escaping into his bottle like he had. But with his duties it was his only choice.
He hoped the others would make their "breakthrough" soon, as he was as tired of their failures as the higher-ups were. In the dim light of the caverns he was in, the purple strobing of the cuttle gave him a headache that seared through his skull like a knife heated to white hot.
"They're just cattle" he told himself as he undid the lock and looked for the slowest or easiest to catch. He ignored the other cages full of eyes that stared at him. He knew the cuttle were intelligent, they had scrawled pleas on the floor of their pen. That had sent him into a marsh induced funk for days.
There was one cuttle outside the group that had been injured when it had been taken. It seemed more a mercy to choose it, rather than one of the others. Maybe by the time a new one was needed the others would have discovered what they needed to discover.
It made little effort to escape Ailek's net when he threw it over. Its purple cries no where near as bright as the others. Ailek had no idea if it had siblings in the cage or if it was a stranger. Perhaps, he thought, it would be best if it was a stranger.
A bell rang near the front his cavern. "Can't keep them waiting can we?" He told his netted cargo. Ailek worked hard to not make eye contact with any of the other occupants of the cavern but he could feel their enmity, their hatred boring into his back.
He turned, quickly. "Soon!" he shouted. "This wasn't my idea, you hear me? I didn't do this, they did! I'm just trying to help! I don't even like it here. It smells! The food is bad. I just want go home too!" The only response he got was a renewed whimpering from the human's cage.
Ailek walked as quickly down the cavern's corridors as his marsh-addled legs could take him. The constant din of the world falls grew louder and louder as he approached the central chamber. A green light that would grown in intensity beckoned him down the hall.
Moments later, Ailek and the cuttle child entered a large semi-circular stone cavern. Gas lamps lit the edges of the room in a flickering blue, but the main illumination came from a stone dais near one edge. Runes and etches seemed to dance with their own green light that would brighten then fade like a breath being drawn in and out. Each rune was too bright too look at, at its brightest. The far edge of the room was a massive set of windows, secured with thick steel frames embedded into the rock. On the other side of the glass and an relatively small airy void thundered the world falls. Stepping up to the window, one could the dry edge of the continent that stretched off into the gloom, the water careening over the edge to form a ceiling. Below stretched only darkness and whatever was at the base of the world falls.
Three other people were in the room when Ailek arrived, all dressed the same in long white lab coats with dark goggles shielding their eyes from the glare. One of the technicians was looking nervously at a small bank of copper plated dials, the other two were securing ropes to an enormous cuttle that was already on the dais. The two technicians used long poles with hooks and ropes at their ends to loop cables around the cuttle.
The technician near the dials hit a button again, the bell sounding near the cages once more.
"Where is he?"
"I'm right here." Ailek slurred and sauntered into the cavern.
"You're drunk again." the technician said. The other two stopped what they were doing and stared at Ailek.
"What are you two doing? We don't have much time left, we need to make the switch. Hurry!"
The other two technicians redoubled their efforts and heaved the large cuttle off the dais.
"What are you waiting for Ailek, get read to swap!"
Without rushing, Ailek walked over to a cabinet and began securing the cuttle child to a pole and took position behind the other two technicians.
The pulsing light on the dais began to speed up as now half the large cuttle was off. It seemed to try to move itself off as well but legs flailed uselessly. The chitin on its belly made a squeaking scratching noise as it ground over the edge of the dais.
The pulse grew quicker, the dim never quite coming, the brightness growing. Ailek took his pole and slid his cuttle onto the dais just as the last part of the larger cuttle left. Almost instantly the light dimmed and stayed a dark evergreen. The cuttle child began to twitch, its biolight voice turning from purple to nearly white as it cycled through its colors. Ailek had to look away. One didn't have to speak cuttle or know their lights to understand a scream. He felt bile rising in his throat.
"Ailek what are you doing? Finish it! Do you need me to replace you?"
"Yes!" Ailek screamed in his mind. "Let me go, release me!" but all he could manage was "No, hang on." With one arm he used the pole to pin the cuttle to the center of the dais, with his other he managed to grab another and secure the cuttle to the center of the dais with steel cables. There was no chance of the cuttle flailing itself off.
When he was finished he simply dropped the poles where he stood, turned and left the room leaving the other technicians to look at each other and wonder if his usefulness had finally come to an end.
Ailek began his mantra the minute he reached the doorway "for the greater good, its for the greater good, some must die so all can live, we will go..."
"Ailek, I would like a word with you. Ailek, this specimen is sub-par. Ailek are you listening to me?" Shouted the main technician behind him.
Ailek let the words slough off him as he retreated deeper into his marsh haze. Staggering he made his way back towards his room. He had bought himself maybe a week with this specimen before he would have to do it all over again.
The lights from the giant cuttle in the cavern pointed toward the smaller, they turned from white, to purple to match the dull green of the runes, then they went out.
He hoped the others would make their "breakthrough" soon, as he was as tired of their failures as the higher-ups were. In the dim light of the caverns he was in, the purple strobing of the cuttle gave him a headache that seared through his skull like a knife heated to white hot.
"They're just cattle" he told himself as he undid the lock and looked for the slowest or easiest to catch. He ignored the other cages full of eyes that stared at him. He knew the cuttle were intelligent, they had scrawled pleas on the floor of their pen. That had sent him into a marsh induced funk for days.
There was one cuttle outside the group that had been injured when it had been taken. It seemed more a mercy to choose it, rather than one of the others. Maybe by the time a new one was needed the others would have discovered what they needed to discover.
It made little effort to escape Ailek's net when he threw it over. Its purple cries no where near as bright as the others. Ailek had no idea if it had siblings in the cage or if it was a stranger. Perhaps, he thought, it would be best if it was a stranger.
A bell rang near the front his cavern. "Can't keep them waiting can we?" He told his netted cargo. Ailek worked hard to not make eye contact with any of the other occupants of the cavern but he could feel their enmity, their hatred boring into his back.
He turned, quickly. "Soon!" he shouted. "This wasn't my idea, you hear me? I didn't do this, they did! I'm just trying to help! I don't even like it here. It smells! The food is bad. I just want go home too!" The only response he got was a renewed whimpering from the human's cage.
Ailek walked as quickly down the cavern's corridors as his marsh-addled legs could take him. The constant din of the world falls grew louder and louder as he approached the central chamber. A green light that would grown in intensity beckoned him down the hall.
Moments later, Ailek and the cuttle child entered a large semi-circular stone cavern. Gas lamps lit the edges of the room in a flickering blue, but the main illumination came from a stone dais near one edge. Runes and etches seemed to dance with their own green light that would brighten then fade like a breath being drawn in and out. Each rune was too bright too look at, at its brightest. The far edge of the room was a massive set of windows, secured with thick steel frames embedded into the rock. On the other side of the glass and an relatively small airy void thundered the world falls. Stepping up to the window, one could the dry edge of the continent that stretched off into the gloom, the water careening over the edge to form a ceiling. Below stretched only darkness and whatever was at the base of the world falls.
Three other people were in the room when Ailek arrived, all dressed the same in long white lab coats with dark goggles shielding their eyes from the glare. One of the technicians was looking nervously at a small bank of copper plated dials, the other two were securing ropes to an enormous cuttle that was already on the dais. The two technicians used long poles with hooks and ropes at their ends to loop cables around the cuttle.
The technician near the dials hit a button again, the bell sounding near the cages once more.
"Where is he?"
"I'm right here." Ailek slurred and sauntered into the cavern.
"You're drunk again." the technician said. The other two stopped what they were doing and stared at Ailek.
"What are you two doing? We don't have much time left, we need to make the switch. Hurry!"
The other two technicians redoubled their efforts and heaved the large cuttle off the dais.
"What are you waiting for Ailek, get read to swap!"
Without rushing, Ailek walked over to a cabinet and began securing the cuttle child to a pole and took position behind the other two technicians.
The pulsing light on the dais began to speed up as now half the large cuttle was off. It seemed to try to move itself off as well but legs flailed uselessly. The chitin on its belly made a squeaking scratching noise as it ground over the edge of the dais.
The pulse grew quicker, the dim never quite coming, the brightness growing. Ailek took his pole and slid his cuttle onto the dais just as the last part of the larger cuttle left. Almost instantly the light dimmed and stayed a dark evergreen. The cuttle child began to twitch, its biolight voice turning from purple to nearly white as it cycled through its colors. Ailek had to look away. One didn't have to speak cuttle or know their lights to understand a scream. He felt bile rising in his throat.
"Ailek what are you doing? Finish it! Do you need me to replace you?"
"Yes!" Ailek screamed in his mind. "Let me go, release me!" but all he could manage was "No, hang on." With one arm he used the pole to pin the cuttle to the center of the dais, with his other he managed to grab another and secure the cuttle to the center of the dais with steel cables. There was no chance of the cuttle flailing itself off.
When he was finished he simply dropped the poles where he stood, turned and left the room leaving the other technicians to look at each other and wonder if his usefulness had finally come to an end.
Ailek began his mantra the minute he reached the doorway "for the greater good, its for the greater good, some must die so all can live, we will go..."
"Ailek, I would like a word with you. Ailek, this specimen is sub-par. Ailek are you listening to me?" Shouted the main technician behind him.
Ailek let the words slough off him as he retreated deeper into his marsh haze. Staggering he made his way back towards his room. He had bought himself maybe a week with this specimen before he would have to do it all over again.
The lights from the giant cuttle in the cavern pointed toward the smaller, they turned from white, to purple to match the dull green of the runes, then they went out.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Something moves in the distance
Please note there will be some Ret-conning occurring with a couple of my old old old posts to make sure that my end of the thread stays coherent. Namely, Vincenti was detained and stabbed by an anti-golem fanatic who sees them as
abominations walking the earth, Arthur's glamor was to make him look like a child not a dwarf human, and the black moth representatives may or may not have actually been on board the Cumulus, depending on how it goes with the Cirrus
gang. Stay tuned. Now on with the story:
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Arthur was on the bridge as the Cumulus came in to final approach with the Cirrus Gang's floating island. His already wide golden eyes, even wider looking at the sheer size of the structure hanging there in front of him in the sky.
The island was built of 3 concentric "rings" expanding from a spire in the center. The needle stuck above and below the superstructure by at least 20 stories on either side. The spire and its central 'island' was surrounded by roads and catwalks, girders and cables and connected to the middle 'island' where five enormous hangers attached the five balloons that held the whole structure aloft. Each of those cigar shaped balloons not only dwarfed the Cumulus but dwarfed the Trident building back home. He guessed if he sprinted from one end of a balloon to another it would still take him five or six minutes to reach the other side.
The last ring of the island also connected by catwalks and large thoroughfares was covered in low buildings, parks with trees, and what appeared to be clusters of bubbles, which, as the Cumulus got closer resolved to gun placements. Large nacells with propellers were attached to all 3 rings by long struts. The engines faced in every direction. Arthur surmised that not only was this island heavily fortified but also highly maneuverable. At this point in the twilight, only a third of the island's engines were being used to maintain the structures placement. The other engines sat quietly, their massive four bladed propellers catching the last orange rays from the sun.
As they got closer to their docking bay, He could see movement in the distance. Figures moved about all surfaces of the giant ship. From Lemur Men on long tethers swinging from one station to the next, spanners in hand, overalls covered in grease, to Chirops, flittering on their leathery wings, reaching the outer reaches of the structures with ease. Humans were also in the mix, reading schematics and running to and fro with equipment, hoses, and what not.
As the sun set Arthur could make out lights coming on from inside, but not the cold white/blue of gas lamps.
He turned to ask Captain Levkov a question and found she was already looking at him, a slight smirk on her lips. He realized his jaw was open and quickly closed it to prevent drool from escaping.
"Your home is amazing." He said, not even caring that this may be his last night alive.
"My home is on the Cumulus here, but yes, the Garundi is impressive."
"I noticed lights from inside, but not gas lamp color..."
"We have our choice of plunder from all around the shallow sea and the two continents. Treasure is not just gold or gems. There are certain rarefied gasses, that, when an electric current is passed through, will glow with all the
colors of the rainbow. I will admit the actual 'how' escapes me but it is quite useful as you can see."
Arthur had heard of thaumaturgic alchemists playing with electric currents in the city, but they were mere nestlings in their understanding, not even close to being able to light a structure.
"Have you or any of your crews been to the other side of the world falls?"
Captain Levkov studied him for a moment, the smirk still on her lips. "You do know who we are, do you not?"
"The much vilified, often sought Cirrus gang, although I would admit from what I've see, you are far more organized than the guerrilla pirates my government makes you out to be."
"And what does the Cirrus gang do with prisoners?"
"From what is said, you don't take any. Although I frequently thought you were either an excuse for the government to spend more money on lead shot or conversely merely a tale mothers to tell their nestlings to get them to go to sleep or behave."
"And you do know that we've removed all the locating wards from your clothing?"
Arthur swallowed slowly. "No, this I did not know. Are you sure? Sheung can be pretty crafty when he needs to be."
"So knowing who we are and what we do, do you want to continue with your questions?"
"Well," Arthur realized the branch he was hanging from was significantly thinner than he thought. "You haven't killed me yet or dropped me out of a hatch, and you did say I was a commodity, so you have use for me in some fashion. So yes? Have you ever gone to the other side of the world falls?"
She barked then stifled a quick laugh. "For a dead man who's wanted by the black moths you are amusing. No, I have not ever been to the other side of the world falls."
"That reminds me, why do the black moths even know who I am? I'm simply a poor and unassuming lemur man who got on the wrong side of a glamour and ended up in a burlap bag on a ship."
"And the Cirrus gang is a shareist utopian society bent on leveling the fields of slave and owner by liberating both's material possessions."
"Touche' Captain."
There was an almost imperceptible bump as the Cumulus nudged into a docking harness on the outer ring. Arthur could hear the whir of machinery clamping the large ship in place.
"Please Mr. DeMedilan, would you come with me. We are just in time for dinner if we hurry. We had a headwind that cost us almost three hours of flight time."
Arthur had to jog to keep up with the Captain's long stride. He noted how everyone in the hallways would salute and press their backs against the bulkhead as they passed. No one said a word as they walked. A long gangplank with low
rope railings had been lowered to the hanger's floor. Once down Arthur noted that what he had assumed was a solid metal floor was actually a honeycomb structure, riddled with holes made out of a material he'd never seen. Smoother than wood, brighter in color than metal. He could barely make out whitecaps on the ocean far below him through the holes. Even as a Lemur man he felt a slight wave of vertigo.
They crossed the hanger to a door and exited. The boulevard they faced was wide enough for nine or ten carriages to pass side by side. On either side of the boulevard were gardens being tended by only a few people. The thoroughfare's themselves largely empty. They walked to the inner side of the boulivard where a cable ran overhead. Arthur was surprised to see the cable was moving quite quickly and had to jump out of the way as a large crate suspended to the cable whizzed over head.
Captain Levkov beckoned him over to a small alcove where she sat on a bench, wide enough for 4 people. He sat down, fastened a belt around his lap as she touched a button on the armrest to her left. A hook seemed to sprout from teh top
of the chair and grab the moving cable above. Arthur was pushed back in his seat as the bench lurched upwards and away from the hanger.
He could feel his jaw dropping open again. His government had no idea what they were looking for, and he only wished Vincenti could see this. The old golem who had seen and done it all in his hundreds of cumulative years would still be in for a surprise or two.
Arthur was marveling at the ingenuity of how the bench could change from cable to cable depending on the destination when his wide eyes filled with panic. The cable they were on took them over the side of the outer ring and for a brief but still heart stopping moment they were in free fall facing the ocean directly below them. The Lemur man gripped the armrest of the bench, wrapped his tail around the seat back and stifled a scream as the bench's hook caught the new cable and they sped in a graceful arc to a new path below the outer ring.
"I, ah, I..." Arthur stammered. The bemused look never leaving Captain Levkov's eyes. "Uh, I may need a change of clothes before dinner. H-h-how many more of those are there before we get to wherever we're going."
"I thought all Lemur men ignored heights?"
"Yes, and I thought all humans hated them."
"Touche' Mr. DiMedilan"
The cable they were on stretched loosely to the lowest end of the central spire and it took almost eight minutes for their bench to arrive. Once below the superstructure Arthur felt how cold it was at altitude and closed the fur lined jacket closer around his neck.
"How it that it is so much warmer on top, near the hanger?"
"The material Garundi is made of traps the heat of the sun and becomes lighter throughout the day as it does so. From dusk through dawn that heat is radiated back out into the air. That is how we heat our water and warm the soil for our crops."
"Crops? I had assumed you merely ate food that was plundered or scavenged?"
"The Cirrus gang, as you call us, are not scavengers. We are hunters. Besides a diet of salted beef and hard tack gets enormously tedious after a while. We have animal pens on the other side of the ship, so those who live on Garundi day in and day out actually have quite a varied diet."
"Do you have manufacturing on board? The tools to do so would be enormously heavy, not to mention the raw materials needed..."
"Mr. DiMedilan, please make sure your appendages are fully inside your seat's envelope, we're about to arrive."
They sped towards and open door twice the size of the bench itself and came to an abrupt halt as an arrestor hook snagged the bench's own hook. Shakily Arthur undid his belt and climbed out. At least inside the central ring the floors were solid. Still made out of that mysterious substance, but solid none the less.
They walked to the doorway and down several flights of stairs to a room that Arthur surmisded was the lowest point on the entire island. There must have been kitchens nearby as the flavors of the Southern Isles filled his nostrils. His stomach growled. Crew carrying empty platters were running up the stairs to pass them, but would flatten themselves against the wall as they continued downwards.
Finally they reached an alcove where staff was staging meal courses. Not just the Southern Isles were represented but flavors from across the two continents were there too. Foods Arthur had only heard about were there.
They entered a large room with a huge round table in the middle, some fifteen people sitting around it, all being attended by servers, pouring wine or beer, or bringing more food. Again, vertigo hit Arthur as except for the wall where the alcove was and a small portion of the ceiling where this room attached to the rest of the island, every exterior surface was either clear or opaque, the floor being no exception. The table and diners, for a brief second looked as
though they were floating in mid air, their faces all touched by the fiery orange of the sunset.
"Ah, Niyati you made it!" said a man at the far side of the table. He stood, causing all the rest of the diners to stand as well. Levkov smiled and saluted. "Yes sir, and I might add commodity aquired. Say hello Mr. DiMedilan."
"H-hello." Arthur said, suddenly shy as all eyes were on them.
The man at the other end of the table gestured for them to take the two seats closest to him. "Mr. DiMedilan, please join us. We were just beginning dinner. We have many important matters to discuss, but the most important of them is your future, both short and long term."
Arthur gulped. He was, suddenly, not very hungry.
abominations walking the earth, Arthur's glamor was to make him look like a child not a dwarf human, and the black moth representatives may or may not have actually been on board the Cumulus, depending on how it goes with the Cirrus
gang. Stay tuned. Now on with the story:
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Arthur was on the bridge as the Cumulus came in to final approach with the Cirrus Gang's floating island. His already wide golden eyes, even wider looking at the sheer size of the structure hanging there in front of him in the sky.
The island was built of 3 concentric "rings" expanding from a spire in the center. The needle stuck above and below the superstructure by at least 20 stories on either side. The spire and its central 'island' was surrounded by roads and catwalks, girders and cables and connected to the middle 'island' where five enormous hangers attached the five balloons that held the whole structure aloft. Each of those cigar shaped balloons not only dwarfed the Cumulus but dwarfed the Trident building back home. He guessed if he sprinted from one end of a balloon to another it would still take him five or six minutes to reach the other side.
The last ring of the island also connected by catwalks and large thoroughfares was covered in low buildings, parks with trees, and what appeared to be clusters of bubbles, which, as the Cumulus got closer resolved to gun placements. Large nacells with propellers were attached to all 3 rings by long struts. The engines faced in every direction. Arthur surmised that not only was this island heavily fortified but also highly maneuverable. At this point in the twilight, only a third of the island's engines were being used to maintain the structures placement. The other engines sat quietly, their massive four bladed propellers catching the last orange rays from the sun.
As they got closer to their docking bay, He could see movement in the distance. Figures moved about all surfaces of the giant ship. From Lemur Men on long tethers swinging from one station to the next, spanners in hand, overalls covered in grease, to Chirops, flittering on their leathery wings, reaching the outer reaches of the structures with ease. Humans were also in the mix, reading schematics and running to and fro with equipment, hoses, and what not.
As the sun set Arthur could make out lights coming on from inside, but not the cold white/blue of gas lamps.
He turned to ask Captain Levkov a question and found she was already looking at him, a slight smirk on her lips. He realized his jaw was open and quickly closed it to prevent drool from escaping.
"Your home is amazing." He said, not even caring that this may be his last night alive.
"My home is on the Cumulus here, but yes, the Garundi is impressive."
"I noticed lights from inside, but not gas lamp color..."
"We have our choice of plunder from all around the shallow sea and the two continents. Treasure is not just gold or gems. There are certain rarefied gasses, that, when an electric current is passed through, will glow with all the
colors of the rainbow. I will admit the actual 'how' escapes me but it is quite useful as you can see."
Arthur had heard of thaumaturgic alchemists playing with electric currents in the city, but they were mere nestlings in their understanding, not even close to being able to light a structure.
"Have you or any of your crews been to the other side of the world falls?"
Captain Levkov studied him for a moment, the smirk still on her lips. "You do know who we are, do you not?"
"The much vilified, often sought Cirrus gang, although I would admit from what I've see, you are far more organized than the guerrilla pirates my government makes you out to be."
"And what does the Cirrus gang do with prisoners?"
"From what is said, you don't take any. Although I frequently thought you were either an excuse for the government to spend more money on lead shot or conversely merely a tale mothers to tell their nestlings to get them to go to sleep or behave."
"And you do know that we've removed all the locating wards from your clothing?"
Arthur swallowed slowly. "No, this I did not know. Are you sure? Sheung can be pretty crafty when he needs to be."
"So knowing who we are and what we do, do you want to continue with your questions?"
"Well," Arthur realized the branch he was hanging from was significantly thinner than he thought. "You haven't killed me yet or dropped me out of a hatch, and you did say I was a commodity, so you have use for me in some fashion. So yes? Have you ever gone to the other side of the world falls?"
She barked then stifled a quick laugh. "For a dead man who's wanted by the black moths you are amusing. No, I have not ever been to the other side of the world falls."
"That reminds me, why do the black moths even know who I am? I'm simply a poor and unassuming lemur man who got on the wrong side of a glamour and ended up in a burlap bag on a ship."
"And the Cirrus gang is a shareist utopian society bent on leveling the fields of slave and owner by liberating both's material possessions."
"Touche' Captain."
There was an almost imperceptible bump as the Cumulus nudged into a docking harness on the outer ring. Arthur could hear the whir of machinery clamping the large ship in place.
"Please Mr. DeMedilan, would you come with me. We are just in time for dinner if we hurry. We had a headwind that cost us almost three hours of flight time."
Arthur had to jog to keep up with the Captain's long stride. He noted how everyone in the hallways would salute and press their backs against the bulkhead as they passed. No one said a word as they walked. A long gangplank with low
rope railings had been lowered to the hanger's floor. Once down Arthur noted that what he had assumed was a solid metal floor was actually a honeycomb structure, riddled with holes made out of a material he'd never seen. Smoother than wood, brighter in color than metal. He could barely make out whitecaps on the ocean far below him through the holes. Even as a Lemur man he felt a slight wave of vertigo.
They crossed the hanger to a door and exited. The boulevard they faced was wide enough for nine or ten carriages to pass side by side. On either side of the boulevard were gardens being tended by only a few people. The thoroughfare's themselves largely empty. They walked to the inner side of the boulivard where a cable ran overhead. Arthur was surprised to see the cable was moving quite quickly and had to jump out of the way as a large crate suspended to the cable whizzed over head.
Captain Levkov beckoned him over to a small alcove where she sat on a bench, wide enough for 4 people. He sat down, fastened a belt around his lap as she touched a button on the armrest to her left. A hook seemed to sprout from teh top
of the chair and grab the moving cable above. Arthur was pushed back in his seat as the bench lurched upwards and away from the hanger.
He could feel his jaw dropping open again. His government had no idea what they were looking for, and he only wished Vincenti could see this. The old golem who had seen and done it all in his hundreds of cumulative years would still be in for a surprise or two.
Arthur was marveling at the ingenuity of how the bench could change from cable to cable depending on the destination when his wide eyes filled with panic. The cable they were on took them over the side of the outer ring and for a brief but still heart stopping moment they were in free fall facing the ocean directly below them. The Lemur man gripped the armrest of the bench, wrapped his tail around the seat back and stifled a scream as the bench's hook caught the new cable and they sped in a graceful arc to a new path below the outer ring.
"I, ah, I..." Arthur stammered. The bemused look never leaving Captain Levkov's eyes. "Uh, I may need a change of clothes before dinner. H-h-how many more of those are there before we get to wherever we're going."
"I thought all Lemur men ignored heights?"
"Yes, and I thought all humans hated them."
"Touche' Mr. DiMedilan"
The cable they were on stretched loosely to the lowest end of the central spire and it took almost eight minutes for their bench to arrive. Once below the superstructure Arthur felt how cold it was at altitude and closed the fur lined jacket closer around his neck.
"How it that it is so much warmer on top, near the hanger?"
"The material Garundi is made of traps the heat of the sun and becomes lighter throughout the day as it does so. From dusk through dawn that heat is radiated back out into the air. That is how we heat our water and warm the soil for our crops."
"Crops? I had assumed you merely ate food that was plundered or scavenged?"
"The Cirrus gang, as you call us, are not scavengers. We are hunters. Besides a diet of salted beef and hard tack gets enormously tedious after a while. We have animal pens on the other side of the ship, so those who live on Garundi day in and day out actually have quite a varied diet."
"Do you have manufacturing on board? The tools to do so would be enormously heavy, not to mention the raw materials needed..."
"Mr. DiMedilan, please make sure your appendages are fully inside your seat's envelope, we're about to arrive."
They sped towards and open door twice the size of the bench itself and came to an abrupt halt as an arrestor hook snagged the bench's own hook. Shakily Arthur undid his belt and climbed out. At least inside the central ring the floors were solid. Still made out of that mysterious substance, but solid none the less.
They walked to the doorway and down several flights of stairs to a room that Arthur surmisded was the lowest point on the entire island. There must have been kitchens nearby as the flavors of the Southern Isles filled his nostrils. His stomach growled. Crew carrying empty platters were running up the stairs to pass them, but would flatten themselves against the wall as they continued downwards.
Finally they reached an alcove where staff was staging meal courses. Not just the Southern Isles were represented but flavors from across the two continents were there too. Foods Arthur had only heard about were there.
They entered a large room with a huge round table in the middle, some fifteen people sitting around it, all being attended by servers, pouring wine or beer, or bringing more food. Again, vertigo hit Arthur as except for the wall where the alcove was and a small portion of the ceiling where this room attached to the rest of the island, every exterior surface was either clear or opaque, the floor being no exception. The table and diners, for a brief second looked as
though they were floating in mid air, their faces all touched by the fiery orange of the sunset.
"Ah, Niyati you made it!" said a man at the far side of the table. He stood, causing all the rest of the diners to stand as well. Levkov smiled and saluted. "Yes sir, and I might add commodity aquired. Say hello Mr. DiMedilan."
"H-hello." Arthur said, suddenly shy as all eyes were on them.
The man at the other end of the table gestured for them to take the two seats closest to him. "Mr. DiMedilan, please join us. We were just beginning dinner. We have many important matters to discuss, but the most important of them is your future, both short and long term."
Arthur gulped. He was, suddenly, not very hungry.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
This is what was overheard
"Slants!" Sheung swore. I've got nothing. "Its like he just disappeared." The small man threw his pendulum down onto the map with his good hand.
Vincenti overheard the little man swearing to himself. He let his eyes flutter open, the cacophony of memories quieting to a din, then the separate shouts of his past lives until they became merely a background conversation. He got up from his chair in the corner and went over to his master.
"Can I reach anything for you Sheung? Get something from kitchen or cupboard?"
"Slants, Arthur is gone!"
Vincenti's slow beating heart fluttered in disappointment. "But the wards..."
"Have been dissolved by someone or something. I'm not the best mage around..."
To have Sheung admitting aloud that fact pointed to how distressed the little man must be.
"Do you think he's been discovered?" Vincenti asked.
"No way of knowing. Gods I hope Charue is still all right. Tolo came and went just before you got back saying another several slimes had been abducted..."
"Children." Vincenti corrected and then regretted speaking.
Sheung merely glared at him. "Come closer, your glamour looks odd."
Vincenti stepped towards the wheelchair.
"I must be slipping, your golem roots are showing. I'll need to rework your glamour again. Remind me next week."
"If people know what I am..."
"If I can get you from the runners before I can do so again. Don't worry you won't be pressed into service with that lot." Sheung spat. The reassurance, however did nothing for Vincenti who wanted to spend as little time with the runners as possible. Golems were rare commoditiy these days.
There was a knock on the door. Sheung stopped, Vincenti's breath stopped in his chest. Another knock.
"Hold your tail, I'm coming."
Sheung wheeled over to the door while Vincenti retreated behind the curtain that seperated the two lower rooms.
The mage opened the door, a man in a well tailored black suit and matching bowler was standing there. He wore a monocle and instead of looking at Sheung as the door opened seemed to be scanning the room. Still without looking at the small man, he said,
"August Sheung I presume?"
"And what if I am? Are you in need of a potion? An antidote?"
"Not so much of a what, as an..." The man's eyes stopped at the curtain "It..."
He turned his head to someone outside out of Sheung's view. "It's here. We found it!"
Sheung could hear several pairs of footsteps begin up the stairs of the front.
Sheung backed up slightly and attempted to close the door when the man in the bowler put his foot in the jamb. Sheung turned and said "Vincenti, be a good sport and get me some lanic please, while I deal with our guests?"
Vincenti flushed and ran towards the stairs to the basement. He saw other men in bowlers dart passed the window, presumably to cover his escape at the back door. In the front room he heard Sheung's chair being tipped over as the door burst in. He wanted to run to aid his master, but his master's orders bound him to his course of action.
In the front room, Sheung rolled away from the chair, producing a small tube from his lizard arm sleeve when he stopped. He brought the tube up to his lips and puffed, the dart catching the first bowler man in the back of the neck. Two other men in bowlers charged in the front door. They saw the man with the monicle sprawl face down on the floor, sliding until his momentum had evaporated. Sheung managed to get another dart in the tube and fell one of the two assailants. The third kicked the
tube out of his lizard fingers.
He held up his hands in front of his face to ward off another kick.
"Its antidotes you'll be wanting. They have minutes until the poison stops their hearts. Its my own brew and only I can save them."
The third bowler man looked at his compatriots and lowered his leg.
"That's better, now help me to my chair."
The bowler man helped Sheung into his chair, righting it and placing the tiny mage in the seat.
"Very well now, lets discuss payment first, shall we?"
Sheung was answered by the bowler man reaching into his suit pocket, pulling out a blackjack and receiving a sharp rap to his head. The world exploded in stars then darkness as Sheung lost consciousness.
Vincenti could hear the scuffle upstairs as he ran through the shelved warren that was the basement. Along the east wall he pulled out a box labeled lanic", the shelf immediately to the boxes right opened, revealing a dark tunnel that didn't come up higher than Vincenti's mid-thigh. He replaced teh box and shimmied into the tunnel just as the door closed. As silently as he could he made his way to the tunnel's exit some three blocks way. In the distance he could hear Sheung's basement being destroyed as the men in Bowler hats looked for him.
Vincenti overheard the little man swearing to himself. He let his eyes flutter open, the cacophony of memories quieting to a din, then the separate shouts of his past lives until they became merely a background conversation. He got up from his chair in the corner and went over to his master.
"Can I reach anything for you Sheung? Get something from kitchen or cupboard?"
"Slants, Arthur is gone!"
Vincenti's slow beating heart fluttered in disappointment. "But the wards..."
"Have been dissolved by someone or something. I'm not the best mage around..."
To have Sheung admitting aloud that fact pointed to how distressed the little man must be.
"Do you think he's been discovered?" Vincenti asked.
"No way of knowing. Gods I hope Charue is still all right. Tolo came and went just before you got back saying another several slimes had been abducted..."
"Children." Vincenti corrected and then regretted speaking.
Sheung merely glared at him. "Come closer, your glamour looks odd."
Vincenti stepped towards the wheelchair.
"I must be slipping, your golem roots are showing. I'll need to rework your glamour again. Remind me next week."
"If people know what I am..."
"If I can get you from the runners before I can do so again. Don't worry you won't be pressed into service with that lot." Sheung spat. The reassurance, however did nothing for Vincenti who wanted to spend as little time with the runners as possible. Golems were rare commoditiy these days.
There was a knock on the door. Sheung stopped, Vincenti's breath stopped in his chest. Another knock.
"Hold your tail, I'm coming."
Sheung wheeled over to the door while Vincenti retreated behind the curtain that seperated the two lower rooms.
The mage opened the door, a man in a well tailored black suit and matching bowler was standing there. He wore a monocle and instead of looking at Sheung as the door opened seemed to be scanning the room. Still without looking at the small man, he said,
"August Sheung I presume?"
"And what if I am? Are you in need of a potion? An antidote?"
"Not so much of a what, as an..." The man's eyes stopped at the curtain "It..."
He turned his head to someone outside out of Sheung's view. "It's here. We found it!"
Sheung could hear several pairs of footsteps begin up the stairs of the front.
Sheung backed up slightly and attempted to close the door when the man in the bowler put his foot in the jamb. Sheung turned and said "Vincenti, be a good sport and get me some lanic please, while I deal with our guests?"
Vincenti flushed and ran towards the stairs to the basement. He saw other men in bowlers dart passed the window, presumably to cover his escape at the back door. In the front room he heard Sheung's chair being tipped over as the door burst in. He wanted to run to aid his master, but his master's orders bound him to his course of action.
In the front room, Sheung rolled away from the chair, producing a small tube from his lizard arm sleeve when he stopped. He brought the tube up to his lips and puffed, the dart catching the first bowler man in the back of the neck. Two other men in bowlers charged in the front door. They saw the man with the monicle sprawl face down on the floor, sliding until his momentum had evaporated. Sheung managed to get another dart in the tube and fell one of the two assailants. The third kicked the
tube out of his lizard fingers.
He held up his hands in front of his face to ward off another kick.
"Its antidotes you'll be wanting. They have minutes until the poison stops their hearts. Its my own brew and only I can save them."
The third bowler man looked at his compatriots and lowered his leg.
"That's better, now help me to my chair."
The bowler man helped Sheung into his chair, righting it and placing the tiny mage in the seat.
"Very well now, lets discuss payment first, shall we?"
Sheung was answered by the bowler man reaching into his suit pocket, pulling out a blackjack and receiving a sharp rap to his head. The world exploded in stars then darkness as Sheung lost consciousness.
Vincenti could hear the scuffle upstairs as he ran through the shelved warren that was the basement. Along the east wall he pulled out a box labeled lanic", the shelf immediately to the boxes right opened, revealing a dark tunnel that didn't come up higher than Vincenti's mid-thigh. He replaced teh box and shimmied into the tunnel just as the door closed. As silently as he could he made his way to the tunnel's exit some three blocks way. In the distance he could hear Sheung's basement being destroyed as the men in Bowler hats looked for him.
Friday, June 22, 2012
Promises Broken
Finnegan and the giant walked at a brisk pace towards the south end docks. He quickly became annoyed with Berto's penchant for wandering off any time they stopped at a street corner. One time he walked off to theoretically find a lost kitty that had turned out to be a rat, the second he was sure he saw a shining quag in the sewer and thought Raz would be impressed if he brought it home to her. Keeping the giant focused for more than a minute at a time was a job in and of itself.
A walk that would have taken Finnegan twenty minutes ended up closer to an hour. They slowed even further as they approached the wharf. Finnegan took a moment to see who was there. Maybe this wasn't the best of plans, he thought to himself.
Fishmongers had begun bringing in their catch and were dutifully avoiding eye contact with Finnegan. Twice he thought he saw people on the rooftops staring down at them, but ducking out of sight just as he looked up.
Eventually they came to a large warehouse at the end of Wharf 14. The large wooden doors were closed and suddenly Finnegan realized how empty the dock had become. The hustle and bustle of getting fish to market and unloading the boats was replaced with simply the scratches and creaks of the boats rubbing against the docks and the mooring lines shifting with the waves.
Head held high, Finnegan decided to push the investigation. He walked up to the front door and knocked loudly. A second later a small hinged window opened and man with small black beady eyes peered through.
"What'chu want?"
"We're here to see Furd!" Berto blurted out.
The beady eyes scanned Finnegan from shoes to bowler and then shifted to Berto. The expression stayed nonplussed.
"He ain't here."
"Oh no we missed him?" Berto looked genuinely put out.
"I know he's here. You can cut the act" Finnegan bluffed, then continued: "He's not in any trouble. Just want to talk..."
From inside he heard someone speak.
"Is that Berto? Hey let him in. I'd recognize that mook's voice anywhere! Hey is his sister there? Heh heh... Who's the other voice. It sounds familiar..." the voice trailed off as the main door opened.
Furd stood there and looked at Finnegan. The smile vanishing from Furd's face like a tandil running away from a flame. Furd's eyes narrowed from confusion to anger as he recognized Finnegan.
"You have a lot of nerve showing up here. You promised if I went straight you'd never show your mug around me again."
"Furd!!!" Berto shouted, ran over to him and hugged him right off the ground.
"Get off me you lent! I don't know you. Who are you?" Furd looked around for the runners. "You and I have never met in my life."
Berto looked hurt. "Furd, its me. Berto!"
"Get out of here both of you. I don't know you" he pointed at Berto, "And I have nothing to say to you except that I am legit and you've broken your promise" looking at Finnegan.
Finnegan thought quickly. "Mr. Ares, I admit we have not gotten off on the right footing, but belive me when I say I hold no grudges. I'm sure you are fully rehabilitated and merely wanted to talk with you about an organization called the Black Moths?"
The frown on Furd's face turned to a scowl as his complexion turned white.
"What is this? Some sort of setup? I don't no nothing about no Black Moths." There was a hint of panic in his voice.
"Are you sure? I can, ah make it worth your while?" Finnegan grasped.
"Ain't nothing you have that can make it worth my while."
"C'mon Furd" Berto implored. "You're usually so helpful!"
Furd's demeanor returned. "Shut your face mook. As I just told this gentleman here, I don't know nothing bout the black moths. You get what I'm saying through that thick skull of yours?"
"If you're worried, since, as you say you're now legit, I could arrange protection from the runners for any assistance you might be able to give me."
Furd guffawed. "The runners? HA! That's a good one. Like they'd ever protect me. Where were they fifteen years ago? Huh? Where were they at the Refinery?"
Finnegan steeled his face. It was time to pull out his last card.
"This is about the missing children Mr. Ares. If you do not assist me, knowing your past, shall we say, indiscretions, I can have a score of Runner's accountants and investigators here within the hour to make sure that you are as legit you say? You know how runners are, a carefully placed report from me and we may not have to worry about the black moths at all in regards to the missing children? I'm sure your room at the refinery is still waiting for you."
Furd looked dumbstruck. No one threatened him, especially not on his dock at his door. He looked around nervously. At that moment at the head of a dock a Runner's runner came around the corner and stopped as it received updated instructions. It stood their, its glowing red eyes seemingly staring at Furd and the little group at the end of the dock. Instructions received, it continued on.
"Fine. Come in, both of you. Slants all to brindle I don't believe I'm helping a crat."
The door closed, and Finnegan's eyes adjusted to the lowered light levels. What looked to be a run down warehouse from the outside was an immaculate and opulent building inside. At least fifty people and twenty lemur-men scurried around with clipboards, files and carts. The building was abuzz with movement inside. Richly textured pictures hung on the walls, the reek of sea decay disappeared once he crossed over the threshold. Whether it was real or a detailed glamor Finnegan couldn't tell but he was impressed none the less. A glamor would have cost almost as much as the items themselves.
"Look, don't make yourselves too comfortable I don't know much. Berto! Put that down! That costs more than your life." Berto, looking chagrined, put a small statue back on a table.
Furd continued: "I met a couple guys at the Refinery. Said they worked for these Black Moths. They deal in all sorts of stuff but they have backers. Big time backers. They're not from here but they have pockets deep enough to buy their way into just about anything. They're looking for something. Anyway they tried to incorporate all of us on shorter term sentences at the refinery and I figured it was just a bunch of pie in the sky hooey till I got out. Next thing I know while I'm gettin' my business out of hock, people I worked with for years ain't calling me back, and that's just those that are still around. Some up and left town. Others just up and disappeared. These guys are more organized than anyone gave them credit for. Problem is you only get one chance to join them. Slants knows I've tried to get back with them, join the winning side and all but now I can't even find any of their people. Its like I'm always two minutes too late. That's all I know. They need something, and what they can't buy here in the city they burn. I swear that's all I know."
Finnegan nodded. What was he supposed to do with this? Third hand reports of a new mob with ties to the refinery. He would have to find Berthold again and see if he knew anything.
"I thank you for your time Mr. Ares and appreciate the information. Berto you have anything to add?" Berto shrugged. Finnegan wasn't sure what made him ask the giant, but anyone who supposedly could speak to cuttle might have insights of some sort.
Finnegan left the docks with Berto trailing behind him. Berto looked a little lost and forlorn. A block away from his office he stopped.
"Berto what's wrong?"
"I'm worried about Raz. I haven't been away from her this long ever."
"She'll be fine." He guessed.
"Why did Furd pretend not to know me. He didn't like you. Are you a bad man? Raz told me I could trust you."
Finnegan chuckled. "Me? A bad man? Compared to the likes of some of your so called friends I should be nominated for sainthood." They began walking again. Just before he rounded the last corner to his building he slowed. Dancing lights of what could be a fire played off the buildings around them. He picked up speed and rounded the corner. It wasn't a fire, once again the square in front of his building was full of cuttle. Not quite as large as the day before but there were still at least 50 of the creatures. This time all of them were flashing in unison.
"Oh no!" Berto cried!
"What? What is it?"
"Another child is missing as of last night!"
Finnegan watched a couple of cuttle near the back who were tenticle signing for the non-cuttle species. Seconds later as he pieced together the sign language, sure enough, Berto had been spot on.
Another cuttle baby was indeed missing.
A walk that would have taken Finnegan twenty minutes ended up closer to an hour. They slowed even further as they approached the wharf. Finnegan took a moment to see who was there. Maybe this wasn't the best of plans, he thought to himself.
Fishmongers had begun bringing in their catch and were dutifully avoiding eye contact with Finnegan. Twice he thought he saw people on the rooftops staring down at them, but ducking out of sight just as he looked up.
Eventually they came to a large warehouse at the end of Wharf 14. The large wooden doors were closed and suddenly Finnegan realized how empty the dock had become. The hustle and bustle of getting fish to market and unloading the boats was replaced with simply the scratches and creaks of the boats rubbing against the docks and the mooring lines shifting with the waves.
Head held high, Finnegan decided to push the investigation. He walked up to the front door and knocked loudly. A second later a small hinged window opened and man with small black beady eyes peered through.
"What'chu want?"
"We're here to see Furd!" Berto blurted out.
The beady eyes scanned Finnegan from shoes to bowler and then shifted to Berto. The expression stayed nonplussed.
"He ain't here."
"Oh no we missed him?" Berto looked genuinely put out.
"I know he's here. You can cut the act" Finnegan bluffed, then continued: "He's not in any trouble. Just want to talk..."
From inside he heard someone speak.
"Is that Berto? Hey let him in. I'd recognize that mook's voice anywhere! Hey is his sister there? Heh heh... Who's the other voice. It sounds familiar..." the voice trailed off as the main door opened.
Furd stood there and looked at Finnegan. The smile vanishing from Furd's face like a tandil running away from a flame. Furd's eyes narrowed from confusion to anger as he recognized Finnegan.
"You have a lot of nerve showing up here. You promised if I went straight you'd never show your mug around me again."
"Furd!!!" Berto shouted, ran over to him and hugged him right off the ground.
"Get off me you lent! I don't know you. Who are you?" Furd looked around for the runners. "You and I have never met in my life."
Berto looked hurt. "Furd, its me. Berto!"
"Get out of here both of you. I don't know you" he pointed at Berto, "And I have nothing to say to you except that I am legit and you've broken your promise" looking at Finnegan.
Finnegan thought quickly. "Mr. Ares, I admit we have not gotten off on the right footing, but belive me when I say I hold no grudges. I'm sure you are fully rehabilitated and merely wanted to talk with you about an organization called the Black Moths?"
The frown on Furd's face turned to a scowl as his complexion turned white.
"What is this? Some sort of setup? I don't no nothing about no Black Moths." There was a hint of panic in his voice.
"Are you sure? I can, ah make it worth your while?" Finnegan grasped.
"Ain't nothing you have that can make it worth my while."
"C'mon Furd" Berto implored. "You're usually so helpful!"
Furd's demeanor returned. "Shut your face mook. As I just told this gentleman here, I don't know nothing bout the black moths. You get what I'm saying through that thick skull of yours?"
"If you're worried, since, as you say you're now legit, I could arrange protection from the runners for any assistance you might be able to give me."
Furd guffawed. "The runners? HA! That's a good one. Like they'd ever protect me. Where were they fifteen years ago? Huh? Where were they at the Refinery?"
Finnegan steeled his face. It was time to pull out his last card.
"This is about the missing children Mr. Ares. If you do not assist me, knowing your past, shall we say, indiscretions, I can have a score of Runner's accountants and investigators here within the hour to make sure that you are as legit you say? You know how runners are, a carefully placed report from me and we may not have to worry about the black moths at all in regards to the missing children? I'm sure your room at the refinery is still waiting for you."
Furd looked dumbstruck. No one threatened him, especially not on his dock at his door. He looked around nervously. At that moment at the head of a dock a Runner's runner came around the corner and stopped as it received updated instructions. It stood their, its glowing red eyes seemingly staring at Furd and the little group at the end of the dock. Instructions received, it continued on.
"Fine. Come in, both of you. Slants all to brindle I don't believe I'm helping a crat."
The door closed, and Finnegan's eyes adjusted to the lowered light levels. What looked to be a run down warehouse from the outside was an immaculate and opulent building inside. At least fifty people and twenty lemur-men scurried around with clipboards, files and carts. The building was abuzz with movement inside. Richly textured pictures hung on the walls, the reek of sea decay disappeared once he crossed over the threshold. Whether it was real or a detailed glamor Finnegan couldn't tell but he was impressed none the less. A glamor would have cost almost as much as the items themselves.
"Look, don't make yourselves too comfortable I don't know much. Berto! Put that down! That costs more than your life." Berto, looking chagrined, put a small statue back on a table.
Furd continued: "I met a couple guys at the Refinery. Said they worked for these Black Moths. They deal in all sorts of stuff but they have backers. Big time backers. They're not from here but they have pockets deep enough to buy their way into just about anything. They're looking for something. Anyway they tried to incorporate all of us on shorter term sentences at the refinery and I figured it was just a bunch of pie in the sky hooey till I got out. Next thing I know while I'm gettin' my business out of hock, people I worked with for years ain't calling me back, and that's just those that are still around. Some up and left town. Others just up and disappeared. These guys are more organized than anyone gave them credit for. Problem is you only get one chance to join them. Slants knows I've tried to get back with them, join the winning side and all but now I can't even find any of their people. Its like I'm always two minutes too late. That's all I know. They need something, and what they can't buy here in the city they burn. I swear that's all I know."
Finnegan nodded. What was he supposed to do with this? Third hand reports of a new mob with ties to the refinery. He would have to find Berthold again and see if he knew anything.
"I thank you for your time Mr. Ares and appreciate the information. Berto you have anything to add?" Berto shrugged. Finnegan wasn't sure what made him ask the giant, but anyone who supposedly could speak to cuttle might have insights of some sort.
Finnegan left the docks with Berto trailing behind him. Berto looked a little lost and forlorn. A block away from his office he stopped.
"Berto what's wrong?"
"I'm worried about Raz. I haven't been away from her this long ever."
"She'll be fine." He guessed.
"Why did Furd pretend not to know me. He didn't like you. Are you a bad man? Raz told me I could trust you."
Finnegan chuckled. "Me? A bad man? Compared to the likes of some of your so called friends I should be nominated for sainthood." They began walking again. Just before he rounded the last corner to his building he slowed. Dancing lights of what could be a fire played off the buildings around them. He picked up speed and rounded the corner. It wasn't a fire, once again the square in front of his building was full of cuttle. Not quite as large as the day before but there were still at least 50 of the creatures. This time all of them were flashing in unison.
"Oh no!" Berto cried!
"What? What is it?"
"Another child is missing as of last night!"
Finnegan watched a couple of cuttle near the back who were tenticle signing for the non-cuttle species. Seconds later as he pieced together the sign language, sure enough, Berto had been spot on.
Another cuttle baby was indeed missing.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
What waits at the top of the stairs
Had started this one about two weeks ago, now its finally finished! Thank you Chrissie for helping bring two sides of the story together.
-----------------------------------------
Finnegan was in his high backed desk chair before any of the staff arrived. The nightly showers had just ended, and a mist was flowing from the city streets out to the bay, its tendrils seeming to shy away from the rising sun.
A fleet of Runner's Runners had been kind enough to drop of box after box of missing person reports during the night, the boxes stacked neatly around his desk. The boxes were now, in stark contrast to last night, strewn almost haphazardly around the office. He had spent the better part of the last three hours pouring over only the missing cuttle children. The Runner's so far seemed to have no leads. All the usual trafficking outfits coming up as dead ends, one after another.
He straightened up and turned off the gas lamp on the table. Early morning sunlight had started pouring in his windows. His back spasmed as he stood up from the desk and he drew his breath sharply. Finnegan had thought he had been able to avoid real work like this some decades ago. He could still feel the censure buzzing in his skull each time he thought about handing off some of the files to an assistant. The buzz would startle him at first, now it was a reassuring vibration behind his ear.
Finnegan walked over to a cabinet and grabbed a bottle of marsh off the top shelf. He uncorked it and grabbed a small glass from on top of the cabinet. This early in the morning he thought a scant minute longer before downing the dark blue liquid.
The squeak and groan of the wooden bench in front of the office broke his revelry. Finnigan put down the glass and walked towards the front office door. No one was supposed to be there for hours yet. He was halfway to the front door when he thought twice, backtracked and picked up a letter opener from his assistant's desk. Putting his ear to the door he could hear the occasional creak and groan from the bench.
Finnegan opened the door quickly and peeked around the frame, sitting on the bench at the top of the stairs, was a mountain of a man, the bench bending under his weight. When the figure saw Finnigan he rose, head scant inches from the ceiling. He was fully three heads taller than Finnegan and most likely at least twice his weight.
"Can I help you?" Finnegan inquired.
For the man's size he stood like a child. Head bowed, hands clasped nervously, feet pointed inward slightly. The figures eyes closed and he began mouthing something obviously rehearsed. Unfortunately there was no breath behind it and Finnegan was caught trying to read the man's lips.
"Ah, sir, you'll have to speak up I can't hear you."
That seemed to fluster the man who looked up surprised.
"Are you a golem? If so, golem relations is one floor up. But I don't think anyone is there yet. Are you all right? Is your hex wearing off?"
This seemed to prompt the mountian who finally found his voice: "MynameisBertoandmysisterRaztoldmetofindthemanwhohelpsthechildrenandsaidyouwouldknowwhattodotohelpthechildren."
"Woah, woah, woah, slow down. You're not a golem?"
"A golem? No I'm Berto. Raz told me to find you."
"Right, Raz? Who is Raz?"
"Mysisteroraleastshesaysshe'smysisterandwegowayback..."
"Slow down. Take a breath. Why don't you come into my office. You said something about the children?" With that the buzz behind his ear intensified. Finnegan scowled and said to no one in particular: "If I can't ask about the children what use is any of this?"
Berto ducked under the office door and followed Finnegan to his office.
"Pardon the mess, I'm redecorating. I'm thinking of papering the walls with these and calling it 'early bureaucracy'" He slid several files off of a second chair and motioned for Berto to sit.
"Now, you said something about Children. Oh and can I get you anything? A glass of water perhaps? Take a deep breath and start from the beginning."
Berto took a deep breath and slowed down like Raz was always telling him to do, although it didn't look like this man was going to give him a slap to the back of the head like Raz did.
"I'm supposed to see the man who's looking for the children."
"What children?" Finnegan asked cautiously. The buzzing behind his ear surprisingly silent.
Berto screwed up his face. He was a study in concentration.
"The missing cuttle children. They're so unhappy and scared."
"Who the children?"
"No the cuttle."
"How do you know?"
"That's what they were saying yesterday in the square."
"Right, yes of course, the cuttle in the suqare. And you speak cuttle correct?" Finnegan said, grabbing another three fingers of marsh.
"Raz told me to say... No I don't speak cuttle I just know anyway Raz told me to say"
"Raz, your sister right?"
"Right, at least I call her my sister. We grew up together near the docks and we go on adventures together and we 'liberate and initiate the pockets of the unaware and the unrepentant' whatever that means. Raz says its a noble calling."
"So your sister and you hang out on the docks and pick pocket?"
"Oh no no, pick pocketing is illegal. We need the money so Raz says its the right thing to do and that the people would want to help us anyway, we're just saving them time! We give it to our other brothers and sisters and buy them food!"
Finnegan sighed.
"But that's not what I'm supposed to tell you. I'm supposed to say that we know who kidnapped the cuttle children! All of them, not just the four you've sent reports to the runners for."
"There have only been four." Finnegan lied. The papers hadn't listed any of the other disappearances yet.
"No there've been a lot more. The Cuttle said so yesterday, and Raz said to say that the Black Moths are involved!"
"The Black Moths? Who are they?"
"They're the new gang. Everyone's scared of them."
"Everyone? Who is everyone?"
"Tom Chindle, the Ares Brothers, Benny Lopsided, Two-hits Linden. Raz doesn't think I know but I pay attention. I really do!" He looked so earnestly at Finnegan that Finnegan paused before pouring another glass of marsh. He grabbed a pen and paper.
"All right, so Its the Black Monks?"
"Moths. The Black Moths"
"Right and the list of the others who are scared of these moths?"
He wrote them down assuming them to be a who's who of low level dock rabble. At least he'd heard of the Ares brothers before, they had gone to the Refinery on a five year sentence. Finnegan had been a witness at the trial in one of their lower level person trafficking schemes.
Had it been five years already since they were sent away? Finnegan realized with a start that it had been much longer than five years ago. He had born witness against them almost fifteen years ago.
"Mr Berto. Is that your first or last name?"
"First, I don't have a last name. Raz says some day we'll be adopted and we'll get that name. That'll be a fun day!"
"Where is your sister now?"
"She had an appointment. I don't know where she is but she said it was real important and that me coming to see you was just as important."
"So it was, so it was. Do you have a way of contacting her?"
"No." Berto hung his head. He obviously hadn't thought this plan through far enough.
"Do you think she's doing something dangerous? If so we should call the runners to help."
Berto panicked, eyes wide. "No! No runners! Runners hurt my friends!"
Finnegan had assumed as much.
"Do you have a way for me to contact you if I need more information? I think I need to pay a visit the Ares brothers but I may need to talk to you or preferably with your sister shortly."
"no" Berto said quietly.
"Then you can either come with me, or stay here. But I'm going to have to insist on one of those two options."
"I can come with you! I haven't seen Furd in a long time!"
It made Finnegan uneasy that this giant seemed to be on a first name basis with a known criminal.
"Very well then, I need to write a quick report and send a message. Would you mind waiting out in the front office? I'll be ready to leave shortly."
"Yes!"
The mountain acted almost like a puppy, eyes wide, smiling at the thought of not having to be alone or make a decision himself.
Finnegan crafted a quick letter, addressed it to his cousin at the Citadel and put a time stamp on it so that his assistant wouldn't courier it for at least several hours. Hopefully the runners would arrive in time and not make a mess of things but better to be safe than sorry.
"All right Mr. Berto. Shall we be away?"
"From where?" Berto asked getting up from the couch in the main room of the office.
"From here. Lets go pay a visit to the Ares brothers."
-----------------------------------------
Finnegan was in his high backed desk chair before any of the staff arrived. The nightly showers had just ended, and a mist was flowing from the city streets out to the bay, its tendrils seeming to shy away from the rising sun.
A fleet of Runner's Runners had been kind enough to drop of box after box of missing person reports during the night, the boxes stacked neatly around his desk. The boxes were now, in stark contrast to last night, strewn almost haphazardly around the office. He had spent the better part of the last three hours pouring over only the missing cuttle children. The Runner's so far seemed to have no leads. All the usual trafficking outfits coming up as dead ends, one after another.
He straightened up and turned off the gas lamp on the table. Early morning sunlight had started pouring in his windows. His back spasmed as he stood up from the desk and he drew his breath sharply. Finnegan had thought he had been able to avoid real work like this some decades ago. He could still feel the censure buzzing in his skull each time he thought about handing off some of the files to an assistant. The buzz would startle him at first, now it was a reassuring vibration behind his ear.
Finnegan walked over to a cabinet and grabbed a bottle of marsh off the top shelf. He uncorked it and grabbed a small glass from on top of the cabinet. This early in the morning he thought a scant minute longer before downing the dark blue liquid.
The squeak and groan of the wooden bench in front of the office broke his revelry. Finnigan put down the glass and walked towards the front office door. No one was supposed to be there for hours yet. He was halfway to the front door when he thought twice, backtracked and picked up a letter opener from his assistant's desk. Putting his ear to the door he could hear the occasional creak and groan from the bench.
Finnegan opened the door quickly and peeked around the frame, sitting on the bench at the top of the stairs, was a mountain of a man, the bench bending under his weight. When the figure saw Finnigan he rose, head scant inches from the ceiling. He was fully three heads taller than Finnegan and most likely at least twice his weight.
"Can I help you?" Finnegan inquired.
For the man's size he stood like a child. Head bowed, hands clasped nervously, feet pointed inward slightly. The figures eyes closed and he began mouthing something obviously rehearsed. Unfortunately there was no breath behind it and Finnegan was caught trying to read the man's lips.
"Ah, sir, you'll have to speak up I can't hear you."
That seemed to fluster the man who looked up surprised.
"Are you a golem? If so, golem relations is one floor up. But I don't think anyone is there yet. Are you all right? Is your hex wearing off?"
This seemed to prompt the mountian who finally found his voice: "MynameisBertoandmysisterRaztoldmetofindthemanwhohelpsthechildrenandsaidyouwouldknowwhattodotohelpthechildren."
"Woah, woah, woah, slow down. You're not a golem?"
"A golem? No I'm Berto. Raz told me to find you."
"Right, Raz? Who is Raz?"
"Mysisteroraleastshesaysshe'smysisterandwegowayback..."
"Slow down. Take a breath. Why don't you come into my office. You said something about the children?" With that the buzz behind his ear intensified. Finnegan scowled and said to no one in particular: "If I can't ask about the children what use is any of this?"
Berto ducked under the office door and followed Finnegan to his office.
"Pardon the mess, I'm redecorating. I'm thinking of papering the walls with these and calling it 'early bureaucracy'" He slid several files off of a second chair and motioned for Berto to sit.
"Now, you said something about Children. Oh and can I get you anything? A glass of water perhaps? Take a deep breath and start from the beginning."
Berto took a deep breath and slowed down like Raz was always telling him to do, although it didn't look like this man was going to give him a slap to the back of the head like Raz did.
"I'm supposed to see the man who's looking for the children."
"What children?" Finnegan asked cautiously. The buzzing behind his ear surprisingly silent.
Berto screwed up his face. He was a study in concentration.
"The missing cuttle children. They're so unhappy and scared."
"Who the children?"
"No the cuttle."
"How do you know?"
"That's what they were saying yesterday in the square."
"Right, yes of course, the cuttle in the suqare. And you speak cuttle correct?" Finnegan said, grabbing another three fingers of marsh.
"Raz told me to say... No I don't speak cuttle I just know anyway Raz told me to say"
"Raz, your sister right?"
"Right, at least I call her my sister. We grew up together near the docks and we go on adventures together and we 'liberate and initiate the pockets of the unaware and the unrepentant' whatever that means. Raz says its a noble calling."
"So your sister and you hang out on the docks and pick pocket?"
"Oh no no, pick pocketing is illegal. We need the money so Raz says its the right thing to do and that the people would want to help us anyway, we're just saving them time! We give it to our other brothers and sisters and buy them food!"
Finnegan sighed.
"But that's not what I'm supposed to tell you. I'm supposed to say that we know who kidnapped the cuttle children! All of them, not just the four you've sent reports to the runners for."
"There have only been four." Finnegan lied. The papers hadn't listed any of the other disappearances yet.
"No there've been a lot more. The Cuttle said so yesterday, and Raz said to say that the Black Moths are involved!"
"The Black Moths? Who are they?"
"They're the new gang. Everyone's scared of them."
"Everyone? Who is everyone?"
"Tom Chindle, the Ares Brothers, Benny Lopsided, Two-hits Linden. Raz doesn't think I know but I pay attention. I really do!" He looked so earnestly at Finnegan that Finnegan paused before pouring another glass of marsh. He grabbed a pen and paper.
"All right, so Its the Black Monks?"
"Moths. The Black Moths"
"Right and the list of the others who are scared of these moths?"
He wrote them down assuming them to be a who's who of low level dock rabble. At least he'd heard of the Ares brothers before, they had gone to the Refinery on a five year sentence. Finnegan had been a witness at the trial in one of their lower level person trafficking schemes.
Had it been five years already since they were sent away? Finnegan realized with a start that it had been much longer than five years ago. He had born witness against them almost fifteen years ago.
"Mr Berto. Is that your first or last name?"
"First, I don't have a last name. Raz says some day we'll be adopted and we'll get that name. That'll be a fun day!"
"Where is your sister now?"
"She had an appointment. I don't know where she is but she said it was real important and that me coming to see you was just as important."
"So it was, so it was. Do you have a way of contacting her?"
"No." Berto hung his head. He obviously hadn't thought this plan through far enough.
"Do you think she's doing something dangerous? If so we should call the runners to help."
Berto panicked, eyes wide. "No! No runners! Runners hurt my friends!"
Finnegan had assumed as much.
"Do you have a way for me to contact you if I need more information? I think I need to pay a visit the Ares brothers but I may need to talk to you or preferably with your sister shortly."
"no" Berto said quietly.
"Then you can either come with me, or stay here. But I'm going to have to insist on one of those two options."
"I can come with you! I haven't seen Furd in a long time!"
It made Finnegan uneasy that this giant seemed to be on a first name basis with a known criminal.
"Very well then, I need to write a quick report and send a message. Would you mind waiting out in the front office? I'll be ready to leave shortly."
"Yes!"
The mountain acted almost like a puppy, eyes wide, smiling at the thought of not having to be alone or make a decision himself.
Finnegan crafted a quick letter, addressed it to his cousin at the Citadel and put a time stamp on it so that his assistant wouldn't courier it for at least several hours. Hopefully the runners would arrive in time and not make a mess of things but better to be safe than sorry.
"All right Mr. Berto. Shall we be away?"
"From where?" Berto asked getting up from the couch in the main room of the office.
"From here. Lets go pay a visit to the Ares brothers."
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