Underside Chapter 3: Yellow Dictator

we meat out first real antagonist

Time: approximately 0:23 Quarterturn

Date: 17338, Unthiar, 88th

Location: Inside Bulwark Town Jesico, on the edge of the Sea of Golden Towers

Document: Continued from X’alen Shinfar’s He Who Lit the Darkness

 

Erond had been happy enough to let him set up shop next to his forge, which he had positioned under a large umbrella like object with a small hole in the top to vent the smoke. Though he did not talk much, when he did his voice was low and powerful. A voice that commanded attention and recognition. A kind voice Richard had always wanted but never quite achieved no matter how many public speaking courses he took. Chigala had given him the tool and said that the second cart if where they stored metal things. If anyone came to him wanting something fixed it was three durricks, whatever those were, for hour of repair time and the cost for parts.

“Sir, can you do clockwork?” asked a toothless old man, wearing a banana yellow tunic and an oversized pointed hat, also yellow. “It’s just this old thing started getting slower and slower no matter how much I wound it, and now it’s stopped all together.”

“I can certainly try.” He had done some simply tension clockwork as a kid. Making little gears out of wood and stealing springs from old mattresses at the dump. Machines had always talked to him much more readily than people. The whir of gears and click of machinery spoke to him in a language no human ever had. Telling him what was wrong, and exactly where to push to fix it. If he had ever been able to do this with humans he would have probably become the greatest surgeon in history, but in stead he had to settle for best handy man.

“The mainspring was worn down. I replaced it for you, so it should be good as new. He turned the crank on the back of the wooden clock and heard the satisfactory ticking as the thing recorded time. Though however it did record time was beyond him. It was quartered off into four sections. Inside each of those was another five sections, and inside each of them were five lines.

“Erond, how much for the mainspring?” asked Richard while slowly turning the minute, or what ever they had instead of a minute, hand

“One durrick, and with the twenty minutes if labor that comes to two durricks.” The old man reached into his pocket and withdrew the necessary coinage. Small silver disks barely a millimeter thick, with a square hole in the middle. He had been seeing similar currency all day, and it seemed the value increased with the decreasing number of sides to the shape in the center. People had been coming all day to pay Erond for the various metal good he made, and Richard could see why. The things weren’t just high quality, they were astounding. Erond was a master blacksmith at work, pumping the bellows and pounding out iron into whatever they needed. People selected from the piles of goods he made whatever they needed, and though most needed small tools every so often a more serious buyer would come along to peruse the weaponry.

Not so many people came to Richard though. A few people needing some toy or clock repaired but nothing towards the complexity if the engine attached to the front of their cars, and after a few hours of replacing stripped gears and winding slackened springs he was starting to grow bored.

“Erond?”

“Yes?” he said between hammer strokes. He was pounding a piece of metal flat to make the head of hoe.

“How did you get so good at blacksmithing? I’ve seen people do it before, but where I come from it is a lost art.” Erond's muscles bulged as he tensed from the question. It took him twenty seconds to answer, and when he did the words were slow, calculated.

“As I pound my knowledge into the metal, so was the knowledge pounded into me.” Ok... another person with a past. This place seemed to attract all kinds of weirdies. Oh well though, at least Erond seemed stable.

From around the corner came the whir of a machine. Something much larger than the engine even they had. Richard got up to look at it, the entire thing was plated with bronze, and if he didn’t know better he would have thought it a car. There were only two seats, separated by a large single back wheel. The engine compartment dominated the car, extending forwards for near fifteen feet, and had three sets of wheels to support it. Instead of the acrid smog of a normal engine this thing belched steam from ports lining the side. The crowd parted as it approached and once they did Richard was able to take in the full detail of the thing. The front grill had been carved into what resembled a pack of hunting wolves, and was covered in gold. Two antennas on the front supported a twin pair of lamps, and the hood seemed to have been carved to resemble a field of Huhu grass.

Inside was a man in a pale yellow suit, lounging against interior of the car, and in the drivers seat was a man’s who muscles threatened to burst his shirt. The cloth was stretched taught against his biceps and chest, and with every move he made to steer the vehicle the clothing seemed to come a little closer to its destruction. The horseless carriage come towards them and stopped just before the forge, the lounging man sat up and glared at the two of them.

“Which one of you is the man repairing machines?” Well, wasn’t he popular? He knew nothing good would come of this and the man’s stance said nothing but bad things.

“He is inside at the moment,” Richard spoke slowly, refusing to look at Erond, and praying he wouldn’t give away the secret. “May I ask what you need him for?” The man in the yellow suit turned on him, and smiled sinisterly. His teeth were yellow like everyone else’s, except instead of the color of unkempt his were gold plated.

“Just tell him there is only room for one Mechromancer in this town.” Richard got up and went to the first car; he banged on the door and waited for a moment before the top half swung out to reveal Chigala.

“What is it?”  She inquired before she looked past him to see the car. Then he head disappeared for a moment while she unlatched the bottom half of the door. “Oh damn, I should have known he wouldn’t like someone else who can run repairs in his territory. Come inside for a moment, we’re going to have to scare him off.” She went back into the cramped car and he followed. The pile of coal domination the top of the car hid the fact there was a room under it. Though there wasn’t much besides a bed and some boxes it seemed cozy. Chigala took a long slender package from a rack on the wall and began to unwrap it. Inside was a long barreled rifle. The thing was nearly five feet long and had an massive scope poised on the right side. The stock was polished and a deep red, but it was the firing chamber that was out of the ordinary. When you pulled the trigger it caused the hammer to strike like normal, but as it drew back a loader on the top would slot another bullet into place allowing for an eight shot magazine. Chigala slotted one of these magazines into place before walking out of the door, Richard following at her heels trying to make himself look inconspicuous.

“What do you want Yuulock?” said Chigala as she hoisted the gun, aiming towards the man in yellow.

“Oh, it’s not a matter of what I want my dear Chigala. It is a matter of what I deserve. Haven’t I taken care of your engine every time you came through my lovely city, and what do you do to repay me? Go to some back alley wrench jockey who probably gummed up your engine. Did he even do the proper rituals?” The man opened his door, which swung downwards into a two-step staircase. He strolled over smiling at them, before his eyes rested of Richard.

“Well, then. Since you weren’t with them the last time there came through I suppose you’ll be this mechanomancer. It is good to meet my opponent.” He motioned towards his driver who opened his door and came out as well. The man was enormous; at least seven feet tall and built like a walking tank. On his belt was rod, which he withdrew, and unfurled to reveal a three foot long bronze club. Chigala switched her aim from Yuulock to his bodyguard.

“If you think you can just come in here and start beating my worker than you’ll have to deal with all of us.” She pointed up to the last car, where in the small window near the top you could see Golgus with a similar rifle, and from behind the body guard Erond had hefted a maul.

“You think you can threaten me!” roared Yuulock taking a step forward. Chigala pulled the trigger and one of the lamps on the car shattered.

“Yes I do, now run back to your little workshop and we’ll be on our way tomorrow. You’ll have no one stealing your business any more,” she spoke slowly, and Richard was sure if the man took another step towards them he would receive more than another dent in his car. Yuulock turned around and slunk back into his seat. A mechanism hissed steam as it pulled the car door back into place. His body guard put away the baton and sat back in the drivers spot, and as they turned to leave Yuulock made some sort of gesture towards them, and from the wide eyes of a few of the older members of the crowd it probably did not have the nicest of meaning.

“What was that all about?” he inquired, but was interrupted as Chigala’s rifle was forced into his hand. She strode over Erond and began to put his tools into the large crates around his forge.

“We’re packing up. We’re going to have to be out on the next ferry ride before he can get his toppers after us.” Erond tossed the bucket of water he had been using to temper the metal onto the coals in his foundry. The gust of steam nearly burnt Richard face as he continued after them.

“Are you ignoring me again? I simple explanation would do, you don’t have to go into detail.” He was caught up in the urgency with which she was putting away the goods, so he began to stow his tools as well.

“That was Yuulock, and if we don’t leave soon he’ll send his goons to kick our teeth in. That detailed enough for you?” Chigala ran back towards her room to get the engine started and Erond was dragging the forge towards the rear cart. Richard walked over to try and help him, but realized the weight of thing was far out of his league, so instead he grabbed one of the crates and carried it alongside him. Inside Orry was quieting the girls and Golgus slid down the ladder to help with their packing. Luckily Erond was the only one who had to take his goods out of the carts, so everything else could be packed away by simply putting a panel back into place.  Just as they finished putting this away the rooms began moving. Richard climbed the ladder back to his room to look out the window at the crowds, and though they parted to allow them through, their eyes were all locked on the sway of their caravan. Down below he heard Golgus call to him, everyone was sitting around the table except for Chigala and Ikrin.

“What did you do?” accused Golgus.

“Nothing, I just fixed some people’s stuff and apparently he didn’t like it. Who was that guy anyway, he acted like he owned the city.”

“He does own the city, and everything for about five clicks in every direction. The damn man is a Baron, on top of being a trade lord. He has a thing for Chigala, but she refuses to run off with him. Probably because he’s such a pompous prick. The only reason we’ve been able to trade here at all was because he fancied Chigala, and now we won’t be able to trade here any more. We had such a good thing going to, we had almost become a local brand.” He paced up and down the small room.

“Why should he care that I fix some people’s stuff, and why is everyone around here wearing yellow?”

“It’s a religious thing. They believe that if they emulate the golden towers they too shall raise to the heavens, and the reason he cares is because he is the only Mechanomancer around. He used that to make sure he got rich, and then he took over all the other businesses to. Everyone here either works for him, or works for someone working for him.” Golgus finally stopped pacing and sat down in a chair, the girls looked distraught, but their mother was able to calm them down long enough to take them upstairs. Leaving him, Golgus, and Erond alone.

“Didn’t I tell you, just this morning, that if you did anything to hurt anyone here that I would end you.” From a back pocket came a small blade, curved like a small sickle and hooked. The blade was not that of metal, but seemed more akin to bone. Before he could make any threatening moves Erond’s hand was on his wrists, and their eyes locked.

“It was not his fault Gol, he did not know of Yuulock.” Golgus tried to wretch his hand away, but the muscles one Erond’s arms were enormous, even for a blacksmith. His grip tightened and a vein pulsed across his palm, Golgus backed down.

“He may not have known, but he still is dangerous. We can’t just go around toting a rogue Mechanomancer, all our lives could be in danger.” Erond let go of Golgus’s wrist and the knife slid back into his pocket. Even though it was hot he pulled up his hood, obscuring his face with the mismatched furs that composed his garment.

“What is a Mechanomancer?” This time both of them focused on him, and now instead of their eyes narrowed in anger they were wide with confusion.

“You should know, seeing as you are one.” spat Golgus, his hand reaching for his back pocket once more, but it was more out of reflexive than conscious thought. Probably a nervous tick left over from times forgotten.

“Well, obviously I don’t. Where I’ve from what I do is called engineering, not mechromacy, so can you please just give me a little help and tell me what I apparently am.” His and Golgus’s eyes met, and this time he was determined not to waver, but their sudden test of wills was interrupted by the door to the fifth car being opened. Chigala stepped through, hand on her hips and a sullen expression on her face.

“The next ferry doesn’t get here for another hour, but that probably won’t be enough time for Yuulock’s thugs to find us, and as for your question I think I can answer that.” She took the remaining chair and spans it around before straddling it, resting her arms on the back, and resting her chin on her arms. Their eyes met, he hadn’t noticed before, but they weren’t quite normal. Yellow brown, and the pupils weren’t perfectly round; instead they stretched slightly horizontally, like half formed goat’s pupils.

“You really aren’t from this world, are you?”

“Of course not. Why would I lie, and what would I gain if I did?” Her eyes bore into him as he answered, and felt like they were not only looking at him, but through him, but then again, all women had that affect on him.

“Mechanomancer are a society unto themselves. They live in their capital city of Skillad on the peaks of the Howler’s Mountains to the far south where the Southern Spire touches the earth. They take what the great machine gives, parts so small they can’t been seen with your eyes, to engines so large that they can blow away mountain. They learned from it and cultivated the most powerful and dangerous military anywhere, but never used it to incite war, only fend off the mechanical devils that climb from on high and kill the artic barbarians on all sides. Every few years a group from the city comes to our lands, mostly young ones come to seek their fortune, and most of them begin doing what they were taught from birth. They repair the machines of the gods.” He couldn’t quite take what she was saying, but her eyes were deadly serious and told him she wasn’t lying.

“What do you mean machines of the gods?”

“The ancient devises that scatter the world, ruins that go father back than anything has a right to, brimming with plunder. Machines born from iron and steal, strange organic creatures bred part mechanic. These tombs lay dormant until a Mechanomancer comes to call. They can reactivate them and bring back to life what was once forgotten. They carry with them the holy stones that give life to their creation. Not like the engine we have up front, I am talking about the spark of life. The call of thunder, the power electric.” Richard starred at her dumbfounded, but her eyes carried a strange sparkle of someone remembering a fond moment.

“ Electricity, your religion if based around electricity? Get me the right stuff and I can build you a capacitor if you want.” He took his head in his hands and muttered quietly to himself. “If I build a power plant maybe I’ll become the pope.”

“You can make a capacitor?” Her eyes were so keen and sincere he couldn’t lie to her.

“Yes, if you get me what I need, but it doesn’t matter. What you are talking about is some kind of crazy I don’t want a part in, but considering what I have been seeing what’s the point of throwing out the crazy. Who is to say that long ago someone didn’t come down here and build all those wonderful devices you’re talking about, but the thing I am wondering. If there were so amazing, where are they now?”

“The day the gods left us and went to the land bellow.”

“Which in my case would be the equivalent of above, great, I am apparently the ancestors of these people. The next thing you’ll be telling me we are going to be heading for Atlantis.” 

“If you aren’t from around here how did you know we are going to Atlantis?” Richard brain was beginning to fry, this couldn’t just be some kind of elaborate dream, and even he wasn’t this creative. It had to be something else, something had to make sense.

“So you’re saying, when Atlantis sunk beneath the waves in legend, what it was really doing was coming back down here.” He sat back in his chair, he couldn’t take this, things like Atlantis didn’t really exist, but for that matter worlds with reverse horizons didn’t exist either.

Author's Note

I didn't have a word processor with spell check to write this, so bear with me

Reviews

[Ice QueenJen]

Amazing chapter and quite interesting.

[Daniel Gardner]

great work here. Keep it up

[Huggy Bear]

I love it. Very beautiful written.

[trish420]

I so love this! I gotta say, best sci-fi I've read it quite some time.... definitely intrigued by the tease of Atlantis and the little tibits of their history you sprinkle in. Can't wait to read more :-)

[Aggie Skeleton]

He, He, I really like Chigala. She seems really cool. Keep writing, and I'll keep reading.