rpg

Machine Girl: Hard Times Call For Hardware – Chapter 20

/ thebenraven / Leave a comment

Victoria

Coming back to consciousness, Victoria tried to make sense of what was happening but all she heard was noise and all she felt was pain.  The noise resolved into gunfire and the pain was more than stiff muscles but she couldn’t waste the time thinking about it.  Opening her eyes, she saw a slight form standing a few feet away on the other side of the knee wall she had been leaning against.  Either

The person was wearing dark urban camouflage complete with a helmet holding some sort of submachinegun and firing bursts of bullets between speaking in short, terse sentences into what must be a helmet mic.

“Seven on my three, at least that many circling to my six.  Where the hell are you Charming?  No Princess is down; repeat Princess is down.  Had to break cover am directly engaged.”

Waiting for Adam to bring ability to move online, Victoria tried to process.  The voice was totally unfamiliar and the body was outlined with Adam’s orange glow identifying it as a dangerous, although not yet hostile, individual.  Information blossomed in her mind, a damage assessment on her legs.  She would be reduced to seventy percent of their effective mobility and even that was not recommended.  Adam also impartially informed her that she was bleeding from several minor contusions and should likely have them cleansed but that they should pose no immediate threat to her operation.

Her guardian dove behind the wall where Victoria lay as a barrage of return gunfire broke out from the night.  Chips of brick showered down from the impact of bullets.  Victoria hacked a nearby WIFI connection and then into the city records bureau before the firing had stopped.  Assessing the situation without proper data on her surroundings was useless.  Within another pair of heartbeats, she had the city zoning commission’s schematic of the building.  It was an old one, but all she cared about was window placement.

“Hey.”  She said to the other person, “You have any rope?”

“Princess is awake but we’re taking fire.  I’m requesting immediate evac.”  He said, ignoring her.

“Look, there are men currently moving to surround us.  Unless your superiors, whoever they are, can get a helicopter or something here in the next thirty or forty seconds we are going to be full of enough lead that we’ll be useful only as pencils.”  Victoria said, “There’s a strong steel railing there that if you had some rope we could tie off to and then swing into the ninth or tenth story window just there over the edge of the building.”

The man was loading another magazine into his gun, she idly noted it was an FN FS2000, and looking at her with a guarded look on his face.  “My assignment is to see that you are protected.  Protection means extraction, not leaping off buildings and crashing through windows.  This isn’t a movie.”

Victoria had been watching him while he was loading his weapon.  When she mentioned rope, he had glanced at his left ankle.  She saw the pouch that contained a rappelling rope there now that he’d brought it to her attention.  Snatching the carabiner, she slapped it onto the steel railing and gave him a challenging look.

“You want to be my white knight or am I going to be the one to do the rescuing?”  She said, “I don’t do the armor thing though and tilting at windmills isn’t my style.”

“We have an evac on its way.”  He said tersely, “But they’re five minutes out.”

“Saddle up then!”  She said with a grin, “You keep them distracted and I’ll save our asses until your supposed team gets here.”

Not waiting for a response, she stood and ran with the rope wrapped around one arm.  He followed, laying down cover fire in three directions.  She grabbed him around the waist just as she leaped off the building.

At first, she was distressed by his weight; but then she allowed Adam to take over.  Her body relaxed into a perfect ballet of motion, carrying the man still firing his weapon and leaping over the edge of the roof.  While in the air, she whipped her arm around in a circle, wrapping the rope around it twice to provide more friction.  It slid briefly and stopped, putting strain on her shoulder but not exceeding her body’s capabilities.  The pair of them swung in an arc that ended with Victoria’s feet smashing perfectly through the window on the tenth story of the office building.

Since her feet weren’t flesh and blood, she didn’t slice herself to ribbons on the glass, but that didn’t soften the impact when they slammed into a filing cabinet.  Victoria, the man she carried and the cabinet all crashed to the floor.  Pain flashed momentarily through the sockets that joined her real legs to her prosthetic ones.

Despite the pain and unexpected collision, Victoria dropped her human cargo and allowed Adam to spin her in a cartwheeling roll that ended with her skidding across the floor balancing neatly on her feet.  The man she had dropped rolled like someone who knew how to fall but without Adam’s ability to vector in the air, he glanced off the side of desk with a grunt of pain.

Spinning in a circle, Victoria took in their surroundings.  She could only see by the dim light coming through the window they had just crashed through but her limited vision revealed it to be a small office.  It was empty, she also couldn’t see any security cameras or telltale lights of alarm systems.  Adam apparently sensed her intention and reported no electronic surveillance.

“We’re clear.”  She said, offering a hand to the man.  “How about you give me a name or something.  Go ahead and lie or give me a code name or whatever.  After that you can tell me where we can go to meet up with whatever evac you have enroute.”

“My name is Alex.”  Now Victoria couldn’t quite tell if that was a man’s voice or a woman’s voice.  “The evac isn’t necessary any longer.  We will escape on our own if you can keep up.”

“Excuse me?”  Victoria said, giving him an angry look.  “I just had to bail your ass out of a firefight by pulling a stunt ‘out of the movies’ just give me the coordinates and go back to your cub scout meeting.”

Alex laughed, “I never thought much of the scouts, but it seems the intelligence I had on you was flawed.  They said you were all logical and cold but you’ve got a real sense of humor.  I don’t really, I’m afraid, that wasn’t a joke just a test.  They’re picking us up in the parking garage in the basement of this building.  They leave in five minutes.”

Kaleb Bargains With Elvish Nobility

/ thebenraven / Leave a comment

The door to Kaleb’s shop was swept open and an imperious woman in an intricately embroidered silk gown looked around with a skeptical expression on her face.  She had the dusky golden skin and dark eyes of a Sun Elf and striking, nearly metallic copper hair.  The Goblin Tek smiled a toothy grin from behind the counter.

“Welcome Lady.  How may we be helpful today?”

“Sand and sun!” She took a half step back, snapping a fan open to cover her face.  “It talks!”

“Can I help you?”  Kaleb asked, walking from the workshop and dusting wood shavings off his trousers.

“Perhaps.”  She said, still holding the silk and lace fan in front of her face and eyeing the pair of them dubiously.  “I was looking for a Thiefcatcher, but I think perhaps this is the wrong location.  My Lady has no need for furniture or wood carvings.”

“Carpentry is the family business.”  Kaleb said, giving her a level look.  “The other is my own.  I do have a board at The Wandering Wyvern for folk to leave me messages in addition to a box at the Guildhall.”

“My Lady requires service as befits her rank.”  The woman said loftily, “I am Lady Taryngail’s personal assistant.”

When Kaleb continued to look at her with a blank expression and she snapped her fan shut in agitation.  “Surely there is a more appropriate place we could discuss our business.”  She said with a significant look at Tek.  “Perhaps you would be so kind as to accompany me back to my Lady’s lodgings?”

Kaleb recalled the contingent of wealthy and powerful Elves from Denoria who had established a trade with the hotter desert and jungle regions of the Eastern realms.  They were a haughty and entitled bunch, but they had brought a significant amount of money into Lanthodell and their trade partners were valued by nearly everyone in the city.

He sighed inwardly, preparing to be obsequious. “If it please you, leave your Lady’s card here and I shall call upon her once I have made myself presentable enough to enter into her presence without giving offense.”

Noting with satisfaction the surprised expression on the woman’s face he accepted the lacquered wooden card from her, showed her to the door and went to change out of his simple trousers and leather smock.  While these wealthy folk were a pain to deal with, they did at least pay well.

–

A candlemark later, he presented the card to a different golden skinned silk clad woman who opened the door. She looked at him briefly before leading him to a waiting room without a word. An array of preserved delicacies was on the room’s sideboard along with a selection of liquors and wines. He ignored all, choosing to stand in an unobtrusive place where he could see all three doors in the room.

A tedious half candle later, Kaleb was considering leaving when a door other than the one he had entered through swung gently open. A tall, willow thin elf with skin a dark reddish gold and hair a myriad of pure white braids the size of his little finger each tipped with a tiny bell wrought from platinum each in the shape of a different animal stepped through it.

She wore a gossamer black veil that covered her below the eyes, and flowing silken robes of an indigo blue that was breathtaking in its intensity. Jet black tattoos swirled over her wrists, ending in elegant runic symbols of power. Her eyes shone with a gentle azure light that trailed out from them in strange lines like the trail the light of a fast-moving torch leaves across the eye in the middle of the night.

Her handmaiden entered behind her, moving quickly to the sideboard and pouring her a narrow fluted glass of emerald green liquor. The Lady Taryngail glided to a chair next to the roaring hearth and sat. “Be sitting if it does please you Thiefcatcher Stoughtbough.” She said, her breath making her veil move ever so slightly. “It would be quite of politeness if you would accept refreshment of my house.”

“Water please.” Kaleb said, moving to sit on the other side of the fire from the lady. Her handmaiden filled a glass with clear water from a pitcher and set it on the small table beside the Halfling. He politely touched it to his lips, not taking a sip. “What have you lost and who has taken it from you?”

She took a delicate taste of her liquor, sipping it through a thin glass straw and looking at him with those eyes that dribbled tiny motes of blue light seemingly at random now that she was seated. “Much with blunt speech have these folk. It is not the ideal of mine to allow such things to be stated so plainly. Perhaps the Nobility of Feycourts have tainted this one’s mannerisms, however it does seem you are lacking in the trust.”

Standing with fluid grace she gestured towards her handmaiden who brought her a small loaf of bread, a dish of dark and pungent vinegar, a small saucer of sea salt and a dish of amber oil. The Lady moved her wrist in the subtlest of motions and a tiny silver knife appeared in it. Cutting a slice from the loaf, she dipped it first in the oil, the vinegar and then the salt. Splitting the bread down the center, she offered him her two hands.

“You are guesting in my tent. I am making the offering of peace. You are safety within these walls, my word and my bread upon it.”

Kaleb took the bread from her right hand and she immediately put the other slice of bread into her mouth, sliding it under her diaphanous veil with practiced ease. He did the same, and followed the complex, flavor of oil, vinegar and salt with a sip of water. The water was not simple or plain either; having flavors of minerals he had not experienced.

“Your choosing of water accentuates the knowledge of our ways.” She said, raising her glass. “Although the sipping of the fermented waters of the cactus would have shown even more.”

“Without knowing what you’ve lost or who has taken it Lady, I haven’t any way of being able to recover it for you.” Kaleb said, “I trust this ritual to mean you have extended trust to me and accepted mine in return. If I choose not to take the job you have my word I will not reveal anything you have told me to anyone.”

“Yes.” Lady Taryngail said with a nod of her head, “My Blademaster finding himself set upon in street while doing the guarding of one of the treasures of the house. This treasure was being in an iron chest of the size of this.” She held her hands in a shape the size of a loaf of bread.

“Who took it? Where was the theft perpetrated?” Kaleb took another drink of water, surprised by the flavor it had once again. “Have you notified the proper authorities?”

“The master of swords was laid low by deceitful poisons injected by projectiles in the city of Desigoringaraitarial. Known by your folk by the name of Denoria.” Her eyes narrowed, “Guardsman having failed, the matter being brought to Thiefcatcher.”

“What do you offer for compensation?” Kaleb deftly sliced another piece of bread; it really was quite good.

“Upon recovering of the thing lost ten thousand coins of gold would be given.” She said in an offhanded tone, as though the money was irrelevant.

“Ten thousand?” Even though he was prepared for something extravagant based on the opulence of the house and the obvious danger involved, Kaleb nearly dropped his bread. He had been working for five years to build up his shop and hadn’t earned that much profit.

“I requiring the thieving dreksa and returning of the property.” The lights of her eyes glittered dangerously, arcing small stars that crackled when they touched a surface and leaving tiny black marks. “Questions beg the answering.”

Kaleb swallowed hard, “I will attempt to find the perpetrator and your stolen property, however taking prisoners is not always possible in this business. I do not want to promise something I cannot be certain of being able to deliver.”

“Fifteen thousand if captured living. Ten if killed and treasure recovered.” She drank the last of her liquor, “Are you accepting of this requested offer of employment?”

Kaleb’s eyes narrowed, “May I ask a direct question?”

“Why would you be changing how you have been speaking?” The Lady said, carelessly moving her hand to one side and dropping her glass. Her Handmaiden smoothly caught the delicate crystal before it had fallen more than a finger length, set it aside and filled a clean glass with pale pink liquid from another decanter and handing it back.

Kaleb caught the intentional scrutiny in her eyes when he met them. “I have two questions before I decide. Why did you pick me? Certainly there would have been people in Denoria who could have handled this for you. I need to know that and I want to know what is in the box.”

“You were selected for being recommended highly and for not being of Denoria. I am trusting you are not involved. You are to be recovering the iron casket intact. If it is opened then recovering it would be unnecessary.” She sipped her drink and he watched the pale liquid travel up the glass straw to vanish beneath her veil.

“What if I travel to Denoria and either can’t find this person or find the package has been opened?” Kaleb asked, “It’ll take weeks to get there and –“

She cut him off with a sharp motion of her hand. “Matters of cost are not being worthy of my time. Your expendings shall be handled. Are you catching my thief or are we looking elsewhere?”

“I will need more information about the crime, the article taken and the location.” Kaleb said, “But yes, I accept.”

Lady Taryngail nodded in satisfaction, stood and swept from the room without giving him another glance. The flickering blue lights at the corners of her eyes left trails of sparks in the air and an exotic perfume.

“I can answer any questions you might have.” Her handmaiden said, “I am acquainted well with the details of the artifact and the theft.”

By the time Kaleb had gotten all the information he believed he needed, he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to do this alone. The skeptical, analytical part of him bereted him for even considering accepting the job. The thief catcher in him was ecstatic at the challenge.

Gravelox and Gearslayer

/ thebenraven / 2 Comments

Just another gaming character intro.  I know… seems like with all these games I’m playing I probably don’t have time to write, work, sleep… but hell, let’s just say I’d rather be gaming!  Besides, I need more little inspirational outlets, otherwise I’ll get stuck with the dreaded writer’s block.  Or have to admit that I’m stuck on some of my other stories.  Whatever.  Here’s some steampunk inspired fantasy fiction.  Hope you enjoy it.

–

Gravelox grumbled as he struggled to loosen one of the bolts on Gearslayer.  The adjustable spanner in his hand gripped the heavy iron hexagon in its steel jaws and the gnome hauled on it with a grunt of effort.  The rusted bolt shrieked as it twisted, the only warning that it was suddenly loosening and he very nearly split his knuckles on the construct’s thick leg.

“Blasted rain storm caught us out too long.”  He muttered, “Didn’t have time to clean and dry you off after that idiot Verlak and his blasted orcs forced us to mush ‘em into paste.  Blood gets into the joints and seizes things up.”

The bolt came all the way free and Gearslayer’s leg moved sideways, revealing half an orc’s torso that had gotten crammed into the massive iron scorpion’s leg joint near where it connected to the body.  The orc’s ax was tangled in the cabling there as well and was fouling the motion of the limb.

“Scummer and murrain, the pox take those crow’s eaten green skinned yellow livered inbred slugs!  One joke about the possibility of their mothers breeding with tusked slugs and they get all bent out of shape.”  With the assistance of a pry bar, he began levering the orc free from where it had been mangled into the leg joint.  “Sparkplug, a bit of light over here if you please!  I need the contrast of color to be able to see where to – oof – pry.”

With a soft hum and buzz, a mechanical lightning bug the size of the Gnome’s doubled fists flitted over on thinly stamped Mithril wings to land on Gearslayer’s side and light began to shine from his posterior.  After a few moments of careful prying, the orc’s helmeted skull popped free and the creature fell to the floor with a sickening splatter.

“Rust and ruin I’m going to have to release this cable and re-string it.  This poxy rat of a shoddy ax is crammed in here too tight.”  He busied himself with more spanners, pliers, lubricants and got the cable loosened.  The ax fell, but the gnome’s ears twitched in agitation when he saw that the blade had shorn through half the thick strands of steel.

“Good thing Verlak had some coin on him.”  Gravelox muttered darkly, “This is going to cost me more gold and you’ll be on five legs until I can get a new cable made.”

He shuffled back into the interior of his workshop, past the steam hammer and forge to his desk.  Pulling a pencil from his apron pocket, he sharpened it and scribbled an order with precise tensile strength, diameter and length down on it.

“Sparkplug, I need you to take this to Drandlain’s Ironworks.”  He said, folding the parchment and sealing it with a blob of dark green sealing wax.  “Tell her to deliver it.  And to hurry.  I’m far too busy to be mucking about leaving my shop and engaging in any more tomfoolery of the sort that pox ridden Verlak likes to engage in.  Not that he’ll be troubling anyone anymore eh?  EH?”  Chuckling at his own joke, the Gnome slid the message into his mechanized familiar’s message tube and sent it buzzing on its way.

Gravelox looked around his workshop and sighed.  So many projects he had started and not finished.  So many failures that had nearly ended in death.  So many years of study and research.  Finally, his project was finished.  Predictably, just when his masterpiece was going out for its walkabout, that big jerk had to pick a fight.

He scratched idly at the spot just behind his right ear where his skull was still healing around the steel shunt that plugged into his brain.  Although the others had all said he was insane for drilling holes in his head for the sake of his research, he sure had showed them!  Or he would.  Once things were ready.

“Pressure.  Just like the engine in Wrenn’s ship.”  He muttered.  “But not with the same kind of propellant.  Don’t like that hydrogen.  No booms.  That’s why I use heat, pressure, proper applications of springs, cams and cables, clockwork and just a touch of aethercrafting.  That’s why you’re my masterpiece.”

Gearslayer rattled its metal mandibles in response and Gravelox felt satisfied amusement in his head.  The same device that gave him access to control the metal monster without words or gestures also allowed its collection of gears, wires, crystals and aethercraft to respond with vague emotions and sometimes with single syllable words.  He smiled, thinking about how shocked his naysayers would be.

“Just like I said, once it’s awakened my dear little pet can think!  A thinking machine.”  His grin spread wider, “I think I’m only a few steps away from proving my theory about the former existence of the sentient steel creatures called Warforged that I found reference to in several historical texts.  It’s only a matter of time, eh Gearslayer?”

The metal construct tapped at the workshop floor with a foreleg as though impatient.  Gravelox chuckled, feeling his friend’s anticipation of things to come.

“Yes, while I’m waiting for that replacement cable perhaps I will finish your tail and its injectors hmm?”  He moved to his workbench where a rotating set of copper cylinders sat next to an apparatus with a sturdy, retractable needle.  Fiddling with his aether powered brazing torch he brought it to a fine point, heating the copper, brass and glass tubing so it could be twisted into the proper shape and soldered together.  Humming quietly to himself, he continued to work long into the night.

–

It was most of a week before the replacement cable came in.  During that time, Gravelox began playing with other high-pressure systems.  With the addition of aethercraft, he had constructed a modified bolt thrower that could outperform any crossbow.  The biggest advantage it offered, other than being more compact and being able to throw a much heavier missile, was the rotating cartridge that he had modeled after Gearslayer’s tail injector.

By spinning the machined steel tubes, he could fire a dozen shots as rapidly as any archer with a bow without sacrificing the accuracy and compact size of a crossbow.  Also, he could choose certain bolts and load them in certain barrels to be able to choose blunt, armor piercing or regular broad heads swiftly.  He chuckled in satisfaction after firing a series of practice bolts into a target across the workshop.

“Oh this will be perfect!”  He said.  Gearslayer clattered his front claws in derision.  “Of course you can cut them apart or mush them into paste, but I would rather not get that close unless absolutely necessary.”

Drandlin knocked on his front door.  He knew it was her because only that irascible Dwarf knocked instead of using the bell pull.  She always claimed to have forgotten, but he suspected she just liked to punch things.  Setting down his … bolt thrower?  He was going to have to come up with a clever name for it… Gravelox hurried to answer the door.

“Got yer bedamned cable.”  Drandlin grated, turning her head to spit a stream of tobacco juice into the alley behind his workshop.  “The hell’d you do to break the last one I sent ya?  Coulda lifted this pile of rat droppings you call a workshop with it.”

“Ah.  It got cut.  Maybe there was a flaw in it.”  Gravelox said, then had to duck another stream of tobacco juice as Drandlin aimed one at his face.  “I was only joking!”

“Yer sense a humor’s gonna get ya splattered onea these days gnome.”  She said.  “Where ya want this cable then?”

Gearslayer had come up behind Gravelox with far more stealth than a metal beast ought to be able, especially with one of his legs removed, and he reached over their heads to pluck the cable from the cart with its huge crushing claw.  Drandlin gaped as Gearslayer retreated back into the workshop.

“Just a few repairs.”  Gravelox said, and shut the door in her face.  Having the last word really was one of the best jokes ever.

Machine Girl: Hard Times Call For Hardware – Chapter 14

/ thebenraven / Leave a comment

Victoria

It was a Friday and Victoria was awake earlier than normal.  Eugene was going to come over in the morning before school to run a diagnostic or something and she didn’t want to keep him waiting.  That and she wanted to make sure she was ready for him.  She still didn’t quite get him; equal parts white knight and playboy with a strong nerd streak that cut through it all.  Strangely enough that didn’t bother her as much as it once might have.

Well, maybe geek she thought as she got out of the shower.  After all everyone claimed to be a ‘nerd’ these days and if you could be a nerd about something like baseball then the term ceased to have any meaning.  Her phone rang and Victoria tried to answer it through her Bluetooth while toweling off, but couldn’t get it to function the way it normally did.  Instead she had to hurry out of her bathroom and answer it manually.  It was Yuen-Ja.

“Hey sis, what’s up?”

“Why you are fighting with Adam?  What he did to deserve such treatment?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Yuen-Ja, why don’t you come in here and we can talk about it.  It’s weird talking on the phone with someone who is in the same house as I am.”  Victoria suspected it was a defense mechanism to deal with stress, whenever her foster sister was angry or upset she called, as though the phone was a barrier for her to vent through.  When she was really ticked off all Victoria got was a text.  “Besides, the echo is making you sound weird you must be right outside the door.”

She began laying out her clothes for the day.  The door behind her opened and Yuen-Ja stood there holding her phone with its cluster of tiny stuffed animals hanging from little cords.  She called them little charms but Victoria knew better.  Each one was a flash memory device, ranging from an ancient 64mb stick to a swank new 1tb model and the gods of tech alone knew what she kept on them.

“He send me distress signal yesterday and nothing since!”  Victoria knew she was pissed; she was using improper English.  “What you did to him?  Why he is not returning emails?”

“Well I won’t deny being angry at him; last night I was attacked by some nut case and he didn’t do a damn thing!  I haven’t done anything to him though; how could I?”  Victoria was pulling her blouse over her head, “It’s not like I’m a super world class hacker or anything.  Besides, he’s living in MY head, if he breaks I break.  Why would I want to do something bad to him?”  She scratched idly at her wrist, it was itching again.

“Don’t know, how else he is not talking?  He is angry at me?  Why for he is angry?”  Yuen-Ja said, her arms crossed.

“I have no idea why he isn’t talking to you!”  Victoria had lost her cool now and was shouting, “Why didn’t he help me yesterday when some lunatic was trying to kill me?  Why did I dream of drowning all goddamn night?”

She sighed and ran her hands through her still damp hair.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell; I’ve just gotten so used to him being there for me when he went AWOL it scared me.  Do you think you can connect up and check or something?  Like you did in the hotel in Vegas?”

“Maybe.  Eugene is coming today yes?  He could see something right?  If Eugene does not find anything I will try.”  Yuen-Ja’s expression softened.  “It is Adam’s private space and I do not like invading his privacy.”

Victoria bit back words about it being her head; her sister just didn’t understand what it was like to have a tenant living in the back of her mind.  “OK, I appreciate it.  Hopefully Eugene can figure something out.”  She glanced at her watch, “Speaking of which, he’s due here any minute, I’ve gotta get ready.”

She clipped her hair out of her face with a few barrettes and took out her makeup; briefly wondering why she still bothered with it.  A brief once-over and she decided it was good enough.  After all it was just school, it wasn’t like she was going on a date or anything.  That thought made her stubbornly decide to apply mascara and a subtle touch of eyeliner as well out of spite for something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Walking downstairs, Victoria only had time for one cup of coffee and an English muffin before Eugene knocked on the door.  He never used the doorbell so she knew it was him even before her father had let him in.  When he walked into the room he was all business.

“Let’s take a look at those diagnostic files Victoria; I want to get to the bottom of this problem.”  He had brought his own laptop with him this time; usually he just used the little netbook that had come with the prosthetic.  She sat in an easy chair with her coffee next to her on an end table and pulled her hair away from the base of her skull so he could plug in.

Once the cable had clicked into place she tried to ignore it, focusing instead on relaxing and drinking her morning coffee.  She ran through a breathing exercise her father had taught her back when she had shown interest in learning martial arts.  The muscles in her shoulders relaxed and she settled into the chair, a slightly difficult proposition with the cable plugged into her brain stem but she managed.

“Ahh, this is strange.”  Said Eugene, “I see there seems to be a problem with the inhibitor system, with all that’s gone on I simply forgot it existed.  Let me guess, your left wrist has felt a little itchy right?”

“More than a little, what’s this system?  What’s it supposed to do?”  Victoria asked, trying not to notice how well his fitted white shirt molded to his upper body.  What was it about French cuffs that she found so damn attractive?

“Umm, this is a bit embarrassing actually.  It was a safeguard I built just in case the AI got out of hand; it was supposed to stop all but the most basic functions when certain boundaries were crossed.  The store of the neuro-inhibitors is just under the skin of your left wrist for easy access in case we needed to restock the supply.”  He sighed, “I didn’t think it still functioned or I would have disabled it long since.”

“Well shut the damn thing off so that we can get back to normal.  It’s pissing me off Eugene; I can’t keep doubting our connection.”  She was surprised by a tremor in her voice, “I can’t live like this.”

“Hey, easy Victoria this isn’t a huge problem.”  Eugene seemed to notice for the first time that she was worried.  “No need to worry, just let me update this piece of software and…” His voice trailed off into muttering that ended with a frown.

“What’s the problem?”  Victoria tensed up again, worse than before.

“The system kicked me out.  Is the cable loose?”  He checked the laptop connection and then the plug on the back of her head.  “Huh, that’s strange.  Let’s try again here.”

His fingers were a blur on the keyboard, the frown still frozen on his face.  Yuen-Ja looked over his shoulder and shook her head.

“Eugene you missed the fifteenth link.” She said, pointing a small finger at the screen.

“Fifteenth?  There are only fourteen links in this system.” Eugene replied, brow wrinkling in confusion.

“No, Adam added one more.  I do not think you can get into the core programs without his link also.”  Yuen-Ja sat next to him and reached over with one hand and tapped in a string of keystrokes.  “I would just tell you but you type slow.”

“What the hell was that?  You are going to tell me what the hell you just entered in right?  The logger doesn’t seem to be working properly.”  Eugene looked at the screen and shook his head, “I don’t recognize the majority of this code.”

“Of course you do not.  That is Adam’s code, please do not touch it.  Your inhibitor is likely in the same place yes?  If it is off limits to him he should not have been able to modify its location.”

“Good point about the code I’m after.  I wonder what the hell system was I in before then?”  Eugene asked.

“His clone.  It handles the bulk of the boring stuff for him so he has time to work on other things and also serves the purpose of being a first line of defense.  A decoy to be sacrificed while he prepares for combat.”  Yuen-Ja hesitated and chewed on a fingernail as if worried she was giving away secrets, giving Eugene a circumspect look.

“Interesting.  I’d love to hear more but first things first.”  Eugene carefully scrolled through pages and pages of code until he found what he was looking for.  “There it is.  Victoria, this might feel strange.”  He hit the sequence of keys to save his changes to Adam’s code.

The Death of Flinder Quickfingers

/ thebenraven / 4 Comments

Flinder ran like he had never run before.  It wasn’t supposed to have gone like this; it was a simple job, a quick hit and run with a payout that should have made him look twice but it was for a nobleman and they never knew how much something like this was worth.  Sweat poured down his face as he thought about how wrong things had gone.

Their target hadn’t been a simple merchant; he had been some kind of blademaster.  He fought like a demon and had killed three of Flinder’s crew before the gnome had managed to hit him with enough poisoned crossbow bolts that he had fallen to the cobblestones, paralyzed.  Flinder was far too smart to kill a mark; stealing was one thing, but murder always brought more trouble than any fee was worth.

He had gone personally to recover the merchandise from the carriage.  It was supposed to have been in a small, easily movable iron casket, instead there was a series of strong boxes that had to be individually unlocked.  Every one of them had some sort of trap on it and he only very nearly avoided being poisoned by a particularly nasty needle trap on the last one.

The extra time meant that his crew was fighting the watch off by the time he finally got the casket open.  It was only by luck that he managed to slip through a sewer grate and run before the last of his muscle was overwhelmed.  Then the rats had started running from him.

It wasn’t just the normal running away from a threat, it was a panicked rush of animals that were terrified.  Something was inside the small iron casket.  Something dangerous.  Flinder had no desire to open it and now he just wanted to escape.  But he didn’t dare abandon the job.  If someone wanted this, they were powerful enough mete out retribution if he didn’t come through.

He stopped, his back against the wall and tried to quiet his breathing.  Removing his haversack, he placed the casket carefully inside, making sure to snuggle it between the layers of dirty clothes he had packed inside.  Making sure his hand crossbow was cocked and loaded with another paralytic bolt, he secured it out of sight beneath his rags and slipped out of the sewer into the bustling basement of the laundress’s shop.  This wasn’t the first time Flinder had made use of the slip me out here.  Best ten gold he had ever spent.

Stepping out into torch lit streets, the gnome almost walked straight into the night watchman who was waiting for him.  Maintaining his guise as a rag picker, he squinted at the man and bobbed his head.  “Apologies sirrah, didn’t see ya sirrah, old eyes ain’t what they were sirrah.”

“Flinder Quickfingers.”  He said, his eyes hard.  “Come with me.  We have business to discuss.”

Flinder looked at him for a moment and the man’s gaze was unsettling.  The game was up.  Cursing his luck and cursing the laundress for probably selling him out, Flinder looked for an escape while reaching beneath his rags for his crossbow. He never saw the rope that circled around his neck.

When he regained consciousness, Flinder looked around dazedly.  He was in a prison cell that was apparently built into something resembling a plush office.  Overstuffed chairs were arranged next to a crackling fireplace, paintings were attractively displayed on the walls and various bits of statuary sat on tables and pedestals.  His pilfered iron casket sat on a marble table near the fire.  His stomach churned.  It was open.

“So Quickfingers, tell me what you were thinking you were going to do with this?”  A man in a constable’s uniform gestured at the open iron box.

Flinder licked dry lips and shook his head dazedly.  “I didn’t know what was in it.”  He croaked, his voice raw.  “Just paid to get it.”

“Who would pay for something like this?”  A second man asked.  He was wearing an officer’s uniform; the rank of Nightmaster on his sleeve.  “Do you take us for complete fools?”

“Can I please have some water?”  Flinder asked plaintively, “My throat is parched.”

“God rotting gnomes.”  The Nightmaster hissed, spitting into the fire.

“Sir, I know they don’t understand propriety the way we do, however it makes sense to at least keep his lips moist while he answers our questions.”  The constable said, pouring a cup of water from a pitcher with condensation beading invitingly on the side.

Flinder didn’t even think about it being poisoned when he drank.  After all, they could have killed him any time.  Foolish.  He never expected the truth drugs; he hadn’t known they existed.

“Who hired you?”  The Nightmaster asked, leaning forward to hear the answer.  “What was the payoff?”

“I don’t know the Lady’s name, but she was of noble birth.”  Flinder said, feeling slightly dizzy.  “She offered ten thousand gold, which seemed to be an insane amount but you know nobility.  They’re all a bunch of insane maniacs who have no idea about what jobs are worth, I mean I’ve had Lords insist I assassinate someone for a handful of silver, not that I do those jobs you understand but I’ve brokered-“

“Enough!”  The Nightmaster cut him off, “What is this thing?”

“I don’t know what it was, like I said before, she just said she wanted it and it was important.  Was supposed to just be in that iron casket but they had it in a bunch of other chests and that crazy maniac must have been a swordmaster or something because he nearly killed my entire crew before we took him down.”

“Pox and rot this thing is useless.”

“Perhaps sir, we could sell it to this noble?”

“If we knew her bedamned name.  I’m sure this little bastard has already missed the time for the exchange.  When and where was it Quickfingers?”

“At the eleventh bell.”  Flinder said, feeling even dizzier now.  “In the fountains in the Flower district.”

“Missed it by three hours.”  The Nightmaster sighed, “Another one for the collection I suppose.”  He reached inside the casket and withdrew a hand constructed of a strange shining black material.  It ended right after the wrist in a maw of bristling needle like teeth.  It twitched in his hand slightly, the mouth of teeth opening and closing spasmodically.

“What a terrible thing.”  Flinder murmured, watching the hand as it strove to sink its fangs into the Nightmaster’s arm.  It was the last thing he saw as the poison stopped his heart.

Machine Girl: Hard Times Call For Hardware – Chapter 13

/ thebenraven / Leave a comment

After a few minutes two more squad cars approached from different directions, sirens on and lights flashing.  One of them went to assist Seevers and the other came and opened the door, and smiled at Victoria.  She held a well-worn notepad in one hand and a pencil was tucked behind her ear.

“I’m Jessica Amunson, Larry asked me to take a statement from you.”  She said, “I’m going to be recording all this on my body camera as well as taking notes, just so you are informed.  Can we start with your name?  Then you can tell me what happened here.”

“My name is Victoria Scott.  I don’t really know what happened.  He just came up to me and started talking.  He was giving me a real creeper vibe so I called 911.  I tried to keep him talking long enough for the police to show up and then he just fell over.”  Victoria wiped the tears from her face, the feeling of panic was finally draining away now that she began to logically order her thoughts.

“Do you have any identification?”  Jessica asked, “Just standard procedure you know.”

“It’s in my bag.  Officer Seevers has it out there somewhere I think.”  She gestured vaguely towards the front of the car.

“I’d like to search your person too if I may?”  Jessica said, glancing at her apologetically.  “Again, just standard procedure.

“I guess; it’s not like I could hide anything in this uniform but I don’t mind.  Just don’t freak out about my prosthetic OK?  It’s a little weird if you aren’t ready for it.”  She pulled her hair out of the way and leaned forward to show her spine.  Jessica’s sudden intake of breath betrayed her shock even though Victoria couldn’t see her face.

“Um… that’s not all of it.”  Said Victoria, tugging up the bottom of one of her stockings to show her carbon fiber leg and wiggling her ‘foot’ for emphasis.  “I’m kind of a mess.”

She let out a low whistle, “Oh wow, you ARE her!  I thought maybe your name was just a coincidence at first.  I mean I heard about this because of the protesters that are gathering in the park across from Dr. Arlington’s apartment, but I never thought I would actually meet you.”

“Yeah, it’s me.”  Victoria rolled her eyes, “I’m the ‘Machine Girl’ as I guess they are calling me.” Her phone buzzed and she tried to tap into it to ignore the call.  She couldn’t, and her wrist began to itch again.  The Bluetooth must have failed again, maybe it needed to be rebooted.  “Wait, what’s happening to Eugene?”

“I think it’s an apt description.”  Jessica said, ignoring her question, “It’s not as crazy as I thought it would be though.  I mean this is certainly a major piece of hardware but you aren’t turning into a giant robot or anything.”

“So I can go now right?  You don’t need anything else?”  She asked, “I’m late getting home as it is, I’d like to get back before dinner.”

“I need to help Larry secure the scene and gather any additional evidence, but after that I could give you a ride if you’d like.”  She said, “At least one of us has to wait for the ambulance but I’m sure I could leave to give you a lift.”

“That’s OK, I appreciate the offer but I’m almost home.”  She picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder, “Thanks for the help, and thank Officer Seevers for me too.  You’ll let me know if you need to ask me any more questions right?”

At the officer’s nod, Victoria took a few steps away, shouldering her backpack before flicking her feet into wheels and skating away.  She wanted to be home as soon as possible.

A.D.A.M.

Adam knew something had gone wrong, but he was having trouble tracking it down.  Every time he attempted to intervene directly with Victoria’s body he could feel the Neuro-inhibiter activate, scaling back his productivity to a minimum.  Even with the direct connection he shared with her organic computer the inhibiter had the effect of limiting his functionality.

The worst problem seemed to be rooted with a subroutine accidentally linked from the copy of his old code that had been created at the beginning of his integration with Victoria.  That moment she had saved him from annihilation was when he actually began to live; to be an entity instead of simply a thing.  He treasured that old code as a memento of what Victoria had done for him and in addition it was handling both the data logging and transmissions for whatever The Creator used it for as well as the basic functions of Victoria’s body.

Every time he touched that code, his systems were immediately limited to the most basic of functions, things which he was not even responsible for anymore.  In a panic he sent an email to Yuen-Ja begging for help.  After it had been transmitted, alien seeming protocols slammed into place and he found he was isolated, unable to use his normal modes of contact with cyberspace.

He thrashed like a caged animal, unable to get out.  The harder he fought, the tighter the restrictions became until he began to lose functionality.  Afraid that the loss would spread to Victoria’s primary functions, Adam ceased his fighting.  In the stillness that followed, he knew the terror of waiting.  There was nothing else he could do.

Eugene

Eugene sat in an overstuffed leather chair in the cozy den of the apartment Dmitri was letting him use, reading logs from the night before.  As he scrolled through the pages of data, a strange anomaly caught his attention.  Normally he got two sets of data, one from the part of the AI that controlled Victoria’s basic necessities and one from ADAM itself containing the information it was compiling.  The latter was generally the most interesting and its absence was disturbing.

Worried about his young patient, he quickly pulled up the application he had installed on her phone that connected through the Bluetooth node on the prosthetic.  It showed her basic body functions and nothing seemed out of the ordinary.  He called her but she didn’t answer.  Eugene chewed nervously on his thumbnail, just to make sure he thought he’d better call her home number.

Richard answered on the first ring, “Hello, Scott residence.”

“Hi Rich, Dr. Arlington here.  I was wondering if Victoria was home yet, I had a couple questions I wanted to ask her.”

“No she isn’t here, did you try her cell?”

“She didn’t pick up but I’m sure my questions can wait.”

“Would you like me to have her call you when she gets home?  I’m sure she won’t be long.”

“Thanks Rich, that’s be great.  Have a good evening.”

“You as well Eugene.”

Rich hung up and Eugene tried Victoria again.  This time she answered after three rings.

“Sup Doc?”  She sounded tense.

“Just saw an anomaly in last night’s logs and thought I’d call and ask you about it.  How are you doing?”

Victoria sighed, “I’m OK now.  Some jackass tried to jump me and I had to call the cops.  Why can’t the world just leave me the hell alone?”

“Holy shit!  Are you OK?”  He paused and gave himself a mental shake, “Well you said you were, but what happened?”

“I have it recorded and I’m sure the police do too since I had my phone on speaker with 911 dispatch while he was threatening me.”  She said, sounding tired.  “I’ll send you a copy if you want.”

“Do you need anything?  Can I help in any way?”  Eugene asked, “Just say the word and it’s done.”

“Thanks Eugene, I appreciate it.  Really all I want to do is go home and be with my family.  Maybe later we can talk about that anomaly you mentioned.  Is tomorrow good for you?”

“Yeah, tomorrow’s just fine.  I’m sure it’s nothing to be worried about.”  They hung up and Eugene sat back in his chair, running his hand through his hair.  His computer chimed and he saw it was an email from Victoria.

‘Here’s that recording I mentioned.  Tomorrow we can talk more, but someone else was there.  They had been following me and shot my would-be assailant with some sort of air powered projectile launcher.  It’s a good thing too since Adam didn’t see fit to help.’

“What in the world does she mean by that?”  He wondered aloud.  Attached was an audio file.
As he listened to it, his blood ran cold.  He recognized that man’s voice; he had heard it before in the parking lot of a gas station.

Machine Girl: Hard Times Call For Hardware – Chapter 11

/ thebenraven / Leave a comment

“That would great Dmitri, I appreciate it.  I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”  Eugene cut across three lanes of traffic to take the next exit; Dmitri’s apartment building was in the opposite direction.  He glanced at the gas gauge and noted he was at a quarter tank.  He looked at the sign and saw that they sold the high octane race gas his car required and decided to fill up.  Eugene pulled into the station and an attendant ran out when the bell rang.

“Fill up for you?”  The attendant asked.

“Where’s the race gas pump?”  Eugene asked.

“Race gas is the last pump.”  He said, “What is this thing anyway?  I don’t think I’ve seen one of these before, but it looks familiar.”

“It’s a Maserati.”  Eugene said, looking around.  There was a group of people gathered in the parking lot and they were making a lot of noise.

“Sweet!  It’s like a James Bond car!”  He said.

“Nah, there aren’t any missile launchers under the hood of this thing.”  Eugene glanced at his nametag, “What’s with the tailgate party Jeff?” He asked, nodding his head towards the gathering across the lot.

“Oh some group of douchebags hollering about the end of the world, I guess they were going to some rally but got lost.”  He rolled his eyes, “You’d better fill up and get otta here before they start proclaiming the machines are rising or whatever again.”

Eugene pulled up to the last pump.  It was labeled ‘RACE GAS NOT FOR STREET USE’ and he smiled, “They say it will run on ninety-three octane but I just can’t stand to listen to her complain when I do it.”  He said.

“Jesus, at eight bucks a gallon I hope it’s worth it!”

“I need to pick up some cigarettes; can you fill the tank for me?”  Eugene walked towards the gas station and listened to the conversation the people were having as he passed.

“I’m telling you we should just kill it.  When she agreed to be transformed into that robotic monster she ceased being human.  She no longer has the rights the rest of us do!”  A man in a trucker cap that read ‘Jesus is my co-pilot’ said.

“Good luck with that Eli, my sources say she’s some kinda killing machine!  Took out an entire squad of Marines or something just last week in Nevada they say!”  This was from a short bald man.

“We need to stick to the plan, just threaten her and she will respond with violence.  One of ours will get it all on tape and then we can let the cops take care of the rest.”  The fat, broad-shouldered woman next to them said.  “She walks home every night and she has after school detention so she will likely be alone.  Wait until she is by herself and then make your move.”

“Yeah, you’re right.  If that bitch does actually put my life in danger though I’m gonna defend myself.  If she dies it’ll be a clear cut case of self-defense.”  It sounded to Eugene like this Eli character was hoping for the chance.

Eugene went inside and up to the counter.  “I need a pack of American Spirits, and whatever my gas is.”

“You running race gas in that thing huh?  Ain’t that supposed to be for off road use or something?”  The guy behind the counter punched some keys and handed Eugene his cigarettes.

“Yeah, probably.  I don’t really give a shit though.”  Said Eugene with a grin, “It’s either this or buy those damn octane boosters and I don’t like how variable that makes the octane level.”

“Those idiots are finally shoving off, they’ve been driving customers away and they’re just weird besides.”  He was glaring out the window, then looked back at the till, brightening slightly.  “That’ll be one hundred eighty-nine ten.”

Eugene handed his credit card over with a sigh but his mind was racing.  They planned on attacking Victoria so that she would defend herself and he knew how the AI would respond, even if Victoria didn’t want it to.  Once he was back in the car, he dialed her number.  At least he should warn her about it.  Waving to Jeff, the gas attendant, he pulled back into traffic.

“Hi, this is V’s phone.  Leave me a message if you want.”  Victoria’s phone went straight to voicemail.

“Victoria, it’s Eugene.  Give me a call when you get this, I think we might have a problem.”  He hung up and after a moment’s hesitation punched up Dmitri’s number.

“Good evening Dr. Arlington, this is Ivanov.  Dmitri isn’t available is there something I can help you with?”

“No, it’s cool I can talk with him when I get to the apartment.”

“Ah, well in that case I’m afraid you might not be able to get your information to him until tomorrow morning.  He is … out right now.”  Ivanov sounded so urbane, especially over the phone.  It was hard to believe he was a cold eyed killer, but Eugene knew exactly how dangerous he could be.

“OK, I have some information about the Humanity Preservation Alliance.  It seems like they plan on threatening or attacking Victoria so that she will react to defend herself in the next couple of days.  They’re getting it all on tape so they can use it as evidence against her.  I don’t know if you can do something to counter that plan or not this late in the game but –“

“Never fear Dr. Arlington.  We are aware of this scheme and so is Victoria’s shadow, it will not succeed.”  Ivanov sounded completely certain, but Eugene wasn’t.

“How can you be sure she’ll be safe?  You can’t have her watched all the time.”

“Know this; her shadow is the best in the business.  When necessary Jessie has gone for days without sleep and still remained sharp enough to do the job.  You have nothing to worry about.”  Said Ivanov.

“Jessie?  Like Jessie James?  Who is he anyway?”  Eugene broke a Cardinal rule and lit a cigarette in his car, “I want to know who you have watching her.”

“I apologize Dr. Arlington but I am not privy to more than that.  Jessie has done quite a bit of work for us in the past.  He’s a freelance gun for hire, a throwback to the Wild West I guess.  Perhaps that’s where the name came from or maybe it’s his real name I don’t really know.  I don’t care either, he gets the job done and has never failed to protect the target assigned.”

“Gun for hire?  Such a thing still exists?”

“Haven’t you heard of Blackwater?”  Ivanov snorted, “This kind of thing has been around ever since humans figured out how to kill one another and I don’t expect it will go away until we forget.”

“Is he a member of an organization or does he work alone?”

“I am not certain Doctor, but I can ask the young master then next time I see him.”

“No that’s OK Ivan, it isn’t important I was just curious.  I’ll see you in about fifteen minutes.”

Machine Girl: Hard Times Call For Hardware – Chapter 9

/ thebenraven / Leave a comment

When they had finished eating, Victoria started helping her mom clear the table.

“How are you doing honey?  Are those things hurting you?”

“No mom, I feel just fine.  They take some getting used to but they don’t hurt.  David said he might stop by with the new model he has cooked up later tonight.  I guess they are a little more comfortable than these ones; a little more advanced.”  Victoria said, putting the silverware in the dish washer.

Her mother began handing her plates, “Well anything that makes you feel better makes me feel better sweetheart.  I really appreciate what that young man has done for you.  He really is a nice boy.”

“Yeah, I’m lucky to have such good friends.”  The last of the dishes were loaded and Victoria turned it on while her mom was gathering things for tea.

“So I hear you destroyed your mid-terms?”  Yuen-Ja was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, “Toria you should know better than to get one hundred percent on all of them.  When people start to think you are doing the impossible they begin to look for alternate explanations.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean to ace them.  I mean I was just doing what I always do.”  Victoria protested.

“Well now you know better.  Next time remember to get at least one answer wrong!”  Yuen-Ja stuck her tongue out at her adopted sister.

On the way into the living room with tea and cookies Victoria tapped into her phone and sent David a text telling him it was cool to swing by.  ‘Hey David, if you want to bring the MKII’s by in the next half hour or so that’d be OK.  There’s tea and cookies too, I’ll save some snickerdoodles for you I know those are your favorites.’

‘I’ll be there in 5’ his response was almost instantaneous.

The tea was just brewed and Yuen-Ja was pouring when the doorbell rang.  “That’s probably David, I invited him over to have tea with us.”  Victoria said, moving to answer the door.

David walked in, struggling with a large cardboard box.  “Hi Mr. and Mrs. Scott!  Hey Yuen-Ja, how’s it going?  Tea smells good, is it Jasmine?”

“Ha, you are learning to appreciate tea against your will!  Another of my triumphs, I will wean you off that nasty yellow five water yet!”  Said Yuen-Ja with a smile.  She hated Mountain Dew and it used to be all David would drink before he’d met her.

They all sat and Victoria took a deep breath, inhaling the fragrance of the tea with pleasure.  Jasmine was her favorite and it went so well with the simple sugar cookies that her mom specialized in making thin and crisp.

“So what did you bring me?”  Victoria was curiously eyeing the box.

“Well, I know the prosthetics you are currently wearing are wreaking havoc on your legs.  The movements aren’t smooth enough and it causes a lot of pressure around the socket which in turn damages the flesh.”  David set his tea down and opened the box.

“That’s why I have made these; they’re like the luxury model you might say.  With a few extras built in.”  He withdrew a carbon fiber leg that looked similar to the ones she was wearing now, but they were a touch larger in diameter and the feet were thicker.  He took out the other one and knelt in front of her.

“May I?”  He asked, his hands hovering over her legs.

“Sure, of course.”  She responded, not realizing how it must look until after he had begun sliding his hands up her skirt.  Victoria pulled the hem up and tucked it between her thighs, exposing the sockets where her prosthetics attached to her flesh.

“Ohmygod honey you said they weren’t hurting you that looks absolutely AWFUL!”  Her mother exclaimed when she saw the crusted blood around the edges.

“It looks a lot worse than it is mom.”  Victoria winced, she should have cleaned up more before this, not just removed the bloody stockings.

“Not to worry Mrs. Scott, these new models should be much easier on her and give her legs time to toughen up.”  David pressed a couple of buttons, released a latch and gave her left leg a twist.  The prosthetic came off with a loud click and he carefully set it down.  The new one was quickly attached and while he was working on the other leg, Victoria flexed the new leg, trying to get a feel for how it would be different.

“OK, try them out.”

She stood up, feeling the smoothness of the actuators and the compression of the joints as they took her weight.  David walked around her, looking critically at them for a moment before starting to explain some things.

“Good, they look good.  I have built in a few things that you can make use of if you want.  First is there are some storage compartments big enough to hold a wallet or whatever.”  He touched panels on the outsides of either thigh and they whispered open with mechanical precision.  “There is a trickle charger for them and I’m working on a backpack with a solar cell as well.  These compartments can be used for extra batteries in the future too if you want.”

“Come on David, show her the cool part!”  Yuen-Ja was sitting on the edge of her chair with a big grin on her face.

“OK, so this is something totally new.  I know you like to skate and I’ve been working on an electrically charged polymer that can assume shapes based on the current you subject it to.  Recently I discovered you can create manipulators out of it and that’s what the feet of your new legs are made from.  The best part is since it’s completely malleable, we can do things like this.”  He motioned for her to sit and when she did he depressed a switch on the top of each leg, just below the socket.  They morphed from being a pair of X shaped claws with rubber grips to being one large wheel with rubber tread.

“Holy shit!”  She exclaimed, holding a leg up to get a better look at it.  “Whoa, now that is cool, how did you do that?”

“Eventually you can probably learn to transform them from foot to wheel without the switches.  Same thing with the storage compartments, if you can figure out the proper nerve signal you ought to be able to open them with a thought instead of having to touch them.”  From the look he was giving her she understood that he meant Adam already had that capability.

“Be careful though, I couldn’t get them to form multiple wheels and it’s tough to maintain your balance at lower speeds with these things.  I tried making a pair of mono-skates for myself first, just to try it out.”  David said, “I think I might have broken my tailbone the first time I tried to stand up on them.”

“Thanks for everything David.  These are amazing.”  Victoria pushed the buttons to turn her feet back to feet and stood up to give him a hug.

“One more thing, you should remove your prosthetic legs when you go to bed.  I know it must be weird to not be able to walk but it will give your real legs a chance to relax and heal.”

“I suppose you’re probably right, but it’s scary to be stranded without legs.”  Her phone buzzed, it was Eugene.  If it was important he’d leave a voicemail.  “I was going to watch a movie, you want to join me?”

“No thanks, not all of us aced our midterms.”  He gave her a silly grin, “I have some studying to do, and Eugene has a project he wants my input on too.  I’m hoping to continue working with him after high school.”

“OK, good luck then.”  Victoria followed him to the door.  “What else did you want to tell me about these?  I can tell you’re hiding something.”

“Uh, I wasn’t going to tell you until after you healed up a little more so that you don’t accidentally hurt yourself.”

“Well then you should have practiced your poker face a little better.”  She said, “Now you have to tell me.”

Zilyana Irithyl Part 2

/ thebenraven / Leave a comment

Zilyana felt pressure on her face and realized she was laying face down on the table in her cabin.  Whatever poison the treacherous Forcythe had used hadn’t finished her off, but it was making her limbs feel as though they were made of dead eels.  Struggling to her desk, she fumbled and finally managed to press the three pieces of carved wood that opened one of the secret drawers.

She grabbed one of the antidote potions she kept there for just such an emergency and downed it.  The alchemical mixture cleared her head immediately.  Plucking her hat from where it had fallen, Zilyana closed her eyes and incanted a spell.  The rest of the world seemed to slow down and she invoked another spell, vanishing from where she stood and appearing on the deck of her ship.

It was a scene of chaos; at least a dozen men were bleeding on the deck, a mad struggle between her crew and a bunch of people in dock worker’s garb.  Worse yet, an entire god rotting platoon of soldiers was moving down the deck at speed with weapons at the ready.  Moving with speed that made the others seem to stand still, Zilyana sprinted down the deck hacking through the thick hemp ropes that kept them secured to the dock.

“CAST OFF YA CRACKBRAINED RATS!” She shouted and her crew rallied at the sight of her.  A flight of arrows streaked from the approaching soldiers and swept the deck.  Zilyana wove through them easily to hack the last of the mooring ropes free and planted her feet on the deck.  Raising her blades, she wove them in intricate patterns, scribing runes in the air and shouting words of Power.  The water between the pier and her ship obeyed her commands and rose in a massive wave, heeling Wavebreaker over and moving him away from the pier.

“Prepare to lower sail, get to your positions and keep your damn heads down!  We’re running!”  She yelled, “Lindrix, take the helm I have to focus!”  Without looking to see if her First Mate had obeyed, Zilyana bent her will to force the water to create a wave that swept the smaller craft out of the way as it shoved Wavebreaker out of the harbor against the wind.

Cries of anger came from the dockside as her ship surged away from the shore, gathering speed as it went.  Wiping sweat from her brow, Zilyana gritted her teeth and looked ahead.  A warship, King’s Ransom was raising its anchor.  Shit.

Letting go of the force that kept pushing Wavebreaker forward, she pointed and gestured at the water on the opposite side of the Ransom and a vortex of swirling waters began to form behind it.  The enemy ship spun lazily, turning away from them and foundering in the water.  As their enemies were swept out of the way, the force of the whirlpool shot Wavebreaker out of the harbor into open sea.

With a grimace of effort, Zilyana hurled a wave back toward shore, knowing it would swamp the smaller boats and founder the larger.  With any luck it might even sink a few of those bastards who had come to arrest them.  Releasing the spell that gave her power over water, she focused on a more familiar friend and called upon Nordji, the North Wind to send them on their way.  A private gale, just for them sprang up before her outstretched palm, filling Wavebreaker’s sails and sending them speeding from the city and their enemies.

–

“Another one?”  Zilyana rubbed her arm over her pained, red eyes.  When had she slept last?

“Aye Captain.”  Lindrix said, lowering his spyglass.  “We ain’t gonna be able to dock here either and if we don’t get out of here fast they will likely catch us.”

Gritting her teeth, she reached out for the power once again.  Pain flashed behind her eyes but she forced the winds to her will again and sent Wavebreaker back out to sea.

“We can’t keep doing this.”  She said, “I can’t keep doing this.  Lindrix, I have to rest.  The instant we lose that sail you need to take over the helm.”

“Of course.”  He said, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze.  “We’ll be fine for a time.  You’re the only one who hasn’t rested.  Go on, we can handle this.”

“Come rouse me in an hour.”  She said, and stumbled to her cabin.

–

It had been many decades ago that she had discovered her brother’s strangeness.  Her beloved grandmother, seven centuries old had died, old age claiming her at last.  Zilyana had wept for days, inconsolable in the grief of losing the first person in her family who had discovered her magical gifts and nurtured them into a thing of deadly grace and beauty.

She had thought that Korikk shared her affection for the ancient woman, but he had been more interested in finding out if she had anything interesting in her personal effects than anything else.  He hadn’t even wanted to attend her Final Rest ceremony.  This hurt almost as much as her grandmother dying.

“Why doesn’t he care momma?”  She had asked, sobbing into her mother’s shoulder.  “He should care.  Grandma was wonderful and I will miss her.  Why doesn’t he feel sad?”

“You know how when you were very little your hair did not grow like the other children’s at first?”  Verrona had said, smoothing her hand over Zilyana’s back.  “It just took longer for your hair to begin to grow.  Korikk is the same way, but for him it’s his emotions that are taking longer to grow in.”

This explanation had mollified her for years.  She had waited for her older brother to understand things that she had felt for as long as she could remember.  Gradually it seemed to happen.  Korikk cried when their pets died.  He laughed at jokes and went through several phases of romantic entanglements with different girls, being suitably morose when the relationships ended.

Zilyana thought at first that her brother’s emotions had finally started to develop just as Verrona had promised, but after a few years she became certain that he was perpetrating a carefully concocted lie.  He was always sad for the same number of hours after each setback.  He laughed for the same number of seconds and always started laughing after everyone else had begun.

“Mother, I am worried about Korikk.” She had said, approaching Verrona in her study where she knew they wouldn’t be disturbed.  “It’s like he is just pretending.  Like he is simply imitating the feelings we all take for granted.”

Verrona sat quietly for a few moments, then quietly walked to the door and closed it.  The air tightened around them for a moment and Zilyana realized that this room wasn’t just private; it was magically warded against any kind of eavesdropping.  Elves were folk whose emotions ran deep, and the thought that someone could be an elf and not feel was frightening.

“It must be hard for him.” Verrona finally said.  Zilyana blinked; she hadn’t thought of it from that perspective before.  “He knows we all feel things; joy, sadness, love, hatred… and yet he stands in the stream of Elven emotion as still as a stone.  It all flows around him, gradually wearing him down and he doesn’t understand it.”

“Oh.”  Zilyana said, “I never thought of it.  Not like that anyway.  I just see him looking at a situation and instead of reacting emotionally to it it’s like he calculates what the expected response is.”  She shivered, “I saw him in a fight last week.  He was just going through motions, he could have been punching a practice pell.  It was like he was a monster, and he only stopped when he noticed that others expected it.  I think he would have beaten that boy to death.”

“There is that.”  Verrona agreed, the picture of calm.  “He is a monster sweetheart, but he is our monster.  Our family has come through dark times before you two were born.  I fear we have some dark times ahead.  There are many monsters in this world, I think it would behoove us to have one of our own.”

Zilyana stared at her mother in shock, and Verrona continued.  “Zil I need you to help him.  He needs coaching if he is to blend in and you know that he isn’t completely without feelings.  They’re just subdued in him.  He needs our love and understanding as well as our coaching or else we will just be ‘a’ monster instead of ‘our’ monster.”

“I understand mother.”  Zilyana said, her mouth dry.

–

After what seemed like moments, Zilyana jerked awake to the sounds of combat.  As she leaped to her feet, she could see that the day had passed and the moon had risen.  That bastard Lindrix had let her rest too long, but she should have known better.  He always tried to look out for her health and wellbeing, claiming it was his job as First Mate.

She had to grudgingly admit that feeling fully rested and magically recharged would be undeniably helpful in the fight though.  Bursting from her cabin she saw they were flanked by two ships.  Snarling in anger, she leveled a sword at one and sent a blast of flame towards it.  To her shock, an answering weave of power dissolved her lance of fire into motes of light.  Shit.  They had a mage too and he was good.

Their arcane duel made the air hum with power as they employed elemental forces and sheer waves of destruction against one another.  Spells that would have burned either of them to cinders or frozen them solid were deflected and countered.  An arrow from the other ship slammed into her shoulder and Zilyana’s concentration wavered for just an instant.

That instant was all her opponent needed.  He leveled a staff a pace long with arcane symbols on it and bolt of dark energy lanced out towards her chest.  Zilyana was roughly shoved aside and a cry of anguish came from her mouth as she saw Lindrix falling to the deck with half his torso missing.  It was just gone.

With a scream of fury and sorrow, she flung her will into the depths of the ocean.  A wall of water fully twenty feet high rose between their ships, nearly capsizing the enemy vessel.  After it washed over the deck, she directed it to fill the hold.  Again and again she threw wave after wave and shouts of panic began to sound as the ship started to sink lower in the water.

The second ship broke away, its crew fearful of similar treatment.  Zilyana did not stop until the ship that had carried the enemy wizard had sunk beneath the waves.  Turning to the remains of her crew she set her jaw in a hard line.

“Make for open sea.  I know Wavebreaker is a coastal vessel, and so do they.”

“Captain, this is madness!  We can’t possibly survive so long at sea!”  One of her crew protested.  Others nodded in agreement.

“The next time which one of you will throw yourself in front of the death spell?”  She asked, bitter tears streaming down her cheeks, “I wouldn’t ask it of any of you, but I know there are some who would.  Next time they might bring several mages.  We have a hold with food, medical supplies and a few other assorted things that should see us through the voyage.  That combined with my magic will see us through.  My life on it.”

She saw their attitudes chance when they remembered that they had never unloaded their cargo.  More than a few started to laugh and joke about her luck and a few more began to sing a chanty when they remembered the substantial shipment of rum that was also on board.  Zilyana stood rooted to the spot for a moment, amazed at the trust her crew had in her.

‘Our chances are maybe one in a hundred.  If we’re lucky.’ She thought to herself, ‘But they’re better than if we keep losing men to enemy ships. A war of attrition is one we will lose, and quickly.’  Wondering idly if Norjdi was going to eventually stop responding to her demands, she once again summoned will, words and gesture that filled Wavebreaker’s sails and sent the ship on the course she had chosen.

Zilyana Irithyl Part 1

/ thebenraven / Leave a comment

Had a character die in a fairly high level Dungeons and Dragons game, so I’m back to the drawing board.  That’s what happens when your party sells you out to dark, demonic forces to save their own bacon!  Good news is, I get to write another back story.  I hope you enjoy.

Zilyana barked orders even though they weren’t necessary.  Her sailors knew their jobs and they were good at it.  They wouldn’t be working for her if they weren’t good.  The shipment of medical supplies she had … liberated … from its rightful owners needed to be delivered to this minor settlement.  The outbreak of pox here might be fatal if the cure and vaccine weren’t given after the outbreak that had happened in the last month.  She realized that this was the year anniversary of her splitting from the life of a normal merchant and slipping into the Privateering business.

Some people called her a Pirate, but Deep Sashelas frowned on piracy.  She kissed the pendant of a dolphin riding a cresting wave that hung around her neck.  Not pirates, she and her crew were freedom fighters.  The noble elite had been withdrawing from the public eye before they made this decision.  Punishments, even for minor infractions, had been harsh.  The common folk had begun to feel the effects of the ambivalence of the wealthy and powerful who were oathsworn to protect and provide for them.

It was when she heard a group of Lords speaking casually about ‘redistributing’ a shipment of food and supplies that was destined for an outer Holding that was suffering from drought that threatened to become a famine to an area that would pay handsomely for it instead of taking it as their due that Zilyana had made her decision.  That night, she sat with the crew she trusted and they made a blood pact.  They would undermine the oathbreakers by any and all means necessary.

They passed the light house and she tipped her tricorn hat to the Harbormaster.  She had known Forcythe for years and they had always had an amicable relationship.  He had a fondness for Klandran rum, and she had a contact who knew how to obtain the illegal rum laced with narcotic spices from the desert.  Her ship Wavebreaker rolled slightly as her crew furled the sails.  The bow wave rebounded off the wharf and she spun the wheel with the practice of decades, bringing him to gently nudge the pier.

“Every time I see you do that I just can’t believe you’re a girl.”  Forcythe said with a villainous grin.  It was a long standing joke between them.

“If you didn’t have children with that same ugly nose, I wouldn’t believe you’re a man.”  She retorted, tipping her hat at a jaunty angle.  “Coming onboard for the inspection?”

“You know the drill better than I do.”  He responded and clomped down the gangplank and she led him to her cabin.  Pouring them each a measure of rum they sat and chatted about the trip for a few minutes.  She almost thought she caught him slipping something into her wooden mug when she had turned to take her ship’s manifest from her desk, but she trusted him.  After all, they had been doing business for years and the bribes and drink she provided would be difficult to replace.

She sat again, feeling a tad unsteady.  This wasn’t unusual, with the ship tightly moored to the pier and barely rocking in the swell it took a bit of time to adjust to the lack of motion.  Forcythe looked over the manifest, nodding and smiling.  The list of legitimate goods was lengthy and would make for good trading in the city.  As Harbormaster he would be granted five percent of the value of the cargo for the honor of having him inspect and clear said cargo.  Zilyana frowned at him, his face was shifting or maybe it was just her eyes playing tricks on her.

“You rich whelps.”  He muttered, “You think we’ll do anything for money.  Does it demean you to lower yourself to being a merchant because you’ve got noble family?  Yeah, I know all about your supposed lineage.”

Forcythe spat to one side, the glob of phlegm splattering onto the polished wood floor.  “Elves.  Dealing with you for the last ten years, I know when something’s not right.  I’m gonna just stroll below and check your cargo.”

Zilyana knew she should get up and follow him, that she should stop him, but her mind was hazy.  She found herself dreaming of decades past.

–

“You must be taught to control that temper Zil.”  Her grandmother chided, “You will do someone grave injury elsewise.”

“I am NOT angry!”  She shouted stamping her foot.  Several delicately carved wooden figures fell off nearby shelves.  “Korikk won’t stop calling me Zilly and I HATE it!”

“Darling, I want you to take a deep breath and let it out slowly.”

“I don’t wanna breathe slowly, I want him to STOP!”  All the candles in the room went out.  Zilyana blinked.  “Grandma, why did you put out the candles?”

A perfect sphere of light illuminated the room, her grandmother’s crystal pendant glowing with the brilliance of the desert sun.  “That was you child.  The temper of a child of power like yourself is a dangerous thing.  You must leash it.  You must bind it to your will.  If you do not, you will hurt people and possibly yourself.”

Zilyana shivered.  “What if I do?  Won’t magic give me the power to hurt people too?”

“It will.”  Her grandmother replied softly, “But if you control it you will have the choice of whether or not to hurt people.  Do nothing and that choice will be denied you.  It is not only violence child, the dance is subtle and wonderful, full of beauty and life.  I know you will come to love it.”

–

She stood on the deck of Wavebreaker next to her older brother.  Korikk had mellowed out over the years, at least as far as his treatment of her was concerned, and she had realized that his teasing was his way of showing affection.  That affection did not run very deep into his character however; she was suspicious as to why he had requested that she be his first mate.

Being here was a dream come true though.  She had always loved the sea and her family’s holdings included stake in a shipping company.  Now, her brother was designated to be captain of the ship and she was going to sea for the first time.  Zilyana had spent years training, first with the sword and then adding her strange arcane gifts into the martial discipline.  The result was a dizzying mixture of sword and wizardry that was as deadly as it was beautiful.

She idly patted the tiger carved hilt of the scimitar thrush through her sash.  It was the only artifact her grandmother had passed on to her specifically when she had died and therefore was Zilyana’s only keepsake from her.  The secret of the sword’s ability to split into a pair of identical blades was another reason she treasured it.

“You’ve studied boats right?”  Korikk asked, breaking her reverie.

“Well, yes.  Of course Captain.”  She said, although internally she wondered if he was testing her somehow.  Boats?  This was a ship, only the least knowledgeable land bound fool would call it a boat.

“Good.  I hate these damn things Zilly and I don’t have any interest in learning.  Your job is to use that old magic trick of yours to tell me what in the hells I’m supposed to be doing.”

She bristled at her hated childhood nickname, but nobody else was within earshot.  Either he was truly using it as a term of endearment or else he was smart enough to know she’d skin him by inches if he used it around other people.  Maybe both.

“You still remember that do you?”  She had always been able to send messages into other’s minds.  It was a bit of the Wild that all Elves had, although their gifts varied.  Her parents said she had nearly driven them mad with her silent crying; she had learned to mind speak long before she had learned to vocalize.

“I never forget anything that could be useful.” Korikk said, not seeming to notice or care that he had more or less just called her a fancy tool.  “Now get on it.”

“What’s in it for me?  If I let you make an ass of yourself, maybe they’ll give me command of Wavebreaker and I won’t have to put up with your foolishness.”

“Do this for me for a year and then I’ll come clean.” He said, “I’ll tell mother and father that you have really been running the show.  If you do well by me, they won’t have a choice but to give you command because I’ll tell the crew too.”

Zilyana’s mouth dropped open before she could stop it.  “You’ll what?”

“I know you have always loved the sea.”  He said, “I hate it.  I hate the salt, I hate the stink of dead fish and unwashed sailors, I hate the spray, I hate the sunburn and most of all I hate the boredom.  It’ll be a perfect victory.  I’ll get to shove a thumb in father’s pompous eye with all his claims that captaincy is a man’s job and a woman would just get in the way and I’ll get out of this dreadfully boring task at the same time.”

“Deal.”  She said, holding out her hand for him to shake.  “We might want to make it two or three years though.  I don’t know how good I’ll be at it in the beginning.”

“You’d better learn fast little sister.  I think I’ll hurl myself off a cliff if I’m forced to do this for more than a year.”