Arcanum - Of Steamwork and Magic Ch. 08

'Magnus' meanwhile had hefted her pistol and was aiming down range. She narrowed her eyes. "I'll take the first shot."

She fired. The bullet struck a zombie in the head. As zombies were wont to do, it reacted with only mild alarm -- then slowly turned and stood in the same eerie motion. The zombies slouched forward and slowly, the darkness became more complete, as if the zombies were shrouding the light spilling from Virginia's cantrip. I leveled my rifle and smirked. "Lets light them up." The accelerator rifle bucked in my arms and Ashe began to fling down necromantic energies, which flared about the zombies, lightning them up with pale red light. Behind them, I could see more zombies emerging from the darkness, as if they had been summoned by the gemstone.

My accelerator rifle clicked in my hands. I looked and saw the batteries were sparking and hissing. I was nearly out of bullets too. And the zombies kept coming, shambling over the bisected and blasted corpses of their brothers. Ashe's face was gleaming with sweat and she wobbled. Virginia, though, was ready. She, Gillian and Sally stepped forward to form a line. Shoulder to shoulder, they hefted their weapons.

Shouting over the ringing in all of our ears, Virginia said: "As one! Forward!" They stepped forward. "Hack!"

All three women struck down the zombies before them. Lacking a magickal weapon or the superhuman strength of Sally, Gillian instead aimed for legs and limbs, disarming and disabling zombies so that Virginia or Sally could finish them off completely. Virginia set the cadence, and soon, they had marched their way down the corridor to the gemstone. Ashe, who had been following right behind them, shoved past Virginia. She grabbed onto the gemstone. The flames winked out and Virginia's cantrip flared to glowing light again.

It shone on dozens of zombies waiting around us. But as we looked about us, each zombie collapsed to the ground.

Ashe grinned. Then chuckled. Then laughed. She belted out a laugh as if she was on the vaudville stage and was about to begin twirling her mustache. Her cackle only ended when Virginia aimed her sword-tip at her. Ashe scowled, her face looking quite sweaty in the cantrip's pale white light.

"Oh come now," she said. "It was a joke."

***

Ashe bid us farewell, carrying the gemstone and whistling to herself. She had paid us for the stone, and while Virginia clearly had misgivings...I couldn't find it in myself to deny the necromancer the stone. She, after all, struck me as more theatrical than truly dangerous. And, more, I didn't wish to try her patience after she had been such an assistance in ridding Ashbury of its zombie problem. Virginia was still muttering darkly under her breath as we walked through the streets of Ashbury. I was beginning to notice something, though. A great number of people were eyeing me. A few were whispering to one another. I wondered why, until it struck me: After using the accelerator rifle in the mausoleum, I had slung it over my shoulder. So used was I to traveling in the wilderness, I had forgotten how odd it was to see a half-orc in a three piece suit with a highly advanced firearm slung over my shoulder.

I was about to put it away when a voice called out to me.

"Dr. Cog! Dr. Cog!"

That struck me dumb. I stood, gaping, as a man hurried up to me. He was a wide faced fellow with a twice broken nose and an expression like someone who was perpetually on the back foot. He took my hand, pumping it. "Dr. Cog, I am ever so glad to meet someone of your technological sophistication!"

"I...beg your pardon?" I asked.

"I've read about you in the Technological Journal," the man said. "Oh! Please, forgive me, I am Theodore, and I happen to be in a spot of bother that only a technologist of your skill could-"

I held up my hands. "Wait, the Technological Journal? You have...I am entirely at a loss, sir."

Theodore blinked at me. "Did you not invent the charged ring and the accelerator rifle?" he asked. "I've read your schematics in the Journal, and they're quite amazing, spectacular even. The way you corrected for spin using the contra-active electrodynamic fields..." he shook his head. "Marvelous work."

I paused.

A memory floated through my mind.

"Please tell me we at least still have my schematics for the charged ring and the accelerator rifle, right?"

"We have the original, yes," Virginia said.

I spun back to face Virginia. Her cheeks flushed and she pointed at Gillian. "It was her idea!" she said, quickly. Gillian looked betrayed, but she stuck out her chin.

"The Technological Journal isn't run by those hacks at the Tarantian, and my father knows the editor, and he was willing to run your schematics and list your name and your picture without throwing a fuss!" She paused. "T-They did put you near the back. Of course. In the non-human section, with the half-elf who built the pocket watch that works underwater and the halfling's banana bread recipe."

I turned back to face this Theodore fellow, who was looking somewhat chagrined. I sighed. "What do you need help with, old boy?" I asked.

"Well, Dr. Cog," he said. "I work with a technologist. And, well, he was working on some new experiment, and he hasn't answered my calls to his house. And when I entered using the spare key, I was attacked by some kind of horrible monster." He shook his head. "I didn't get a great look at it, but I fear the worst. If you can go inside and see about...dealing with it, I..." He wrung his hands.

I nodded.

"We're never getting -- hic- to the ship, are we?" Sally muttered.

"Oh quiet," Virginia hissed. "It's not like Ray can leave this poor fellow to rot."

I was slightly tempted.

Alas. Only slightly.

Sally kicked in the door to the technologist's house and we walked inside, my accelerator rifle at the ready. It was charged up enough that I was fairly confident it could do against anything that came at us. Looking around the interior of the house, I could see that the walls were covered in blueprints and schematics and notes, while the desk in the corner of the room looked covered in tools. Underneath it was something large and low slung. My brow furrowed and I aimed my rifle at it -- which seemed to be enough to awaken it. Hissing steam and the clatter of released clockwork filled the air and the shape rushed forward. Spiderlike legs crunched along the ground and an automaton spider rushed towards me. I caught a glimpse of flashing blades before I depressed my trigger finger.

The roar of the accelerator gun filled the house -- and I hoped the walls muffled the noise outside, or else we would have to explain something to the constabulary. The round took the automaton spider in the center of its face and tore the machine apart in a spray of spring and gears. It collapsed to the ground with a groan and I walked slowly forward, prodding it with my smoking barrel.

"I think you got it," 'Magnus' said.

Gillian sniffed the air. Her brow furrowed and she shook her head. "I think I know what happened to the poor bugger here."

I nodded. I could smell the reek of rot as well. And we found the confirmation of Theodore's worst fears. We emerged and told Theo of the death of his friend and, ashen face, he went to deal with the burial of his comrade in technology. But me? I was more interested in the schematics -- sad as it was to say. I did not know the man, but I was willing to be a bit skeptical of his talents, constructing such sophisticated automatons without figuring out how to control them once they were released. But studying the schematics as the constables questioned my party (and then thinking about the schematics while I was being questioned) did teach me one thing.

I was nowhere near close to being able to construct an automaton of my own.

But it did spark ideas within my own brain.

Once the constables had shaken my hand for doing such a bang up job with first the zombies and now the automaton, I dragged the party to the local tavern and began to scribble notes.

"What are you doing?" 'Magnus' asked, leaning up and over the table to examine what I was drawing. I was currently copying a few designs from the schematics we had found in the technologist's home. I looked up at her, then grinned.

"So, this fellow was a bit of a fool when it comes to control systems, but he was a genius when it came to cramming a great deal of small machinery into a significantly compacted space. And I believe that I can take those principles, apply them to my accelerator rifle, and place the same kind of electrodynamic accelerative machinery into a pistol. There will be some major advantages in terms of accuracy, portability, concealability...battery life."

'Magnus' looked skeptical.

Three hours later, 'Magnus' looked significantly less skeptical -- and we had gathered a bit of a crowd. The tavern goers had circled the table and seemed to be fascinated by watching me work on the rifle and my pistol. Once I had finished, my revolver -- formerly 'Magnus' revolver -- was sleeker, polished, and decorated with a bit of brasswork which I had fashioned from elements of the accelerator compartments I no longer required. I checked the balance in my high velocity pistol, smiling as I aimed down the sight.

"Well, boy!" an older gentleman with snow white mustaches said. "We better test that pea shooter out!"

"Capital idea!" I announced.

The entire population of the tavern stepped outside, into the alleyway, where a constable came over to watch -- quieted down from his concern by the tavern owner, who set his enterprising mind to selling beer bottles for me to shoot. Several men got involved in not only purchasing the bottles, but wagering on the outcome of my shooting -- not only in whether or not I would hit, but also if the high velocity pistol would explode in my hand.

I leveled my pistol...and immediately, felt far more comfortable. Yes, a pistol was less stable than a rifle. But...

I had done most of my best shooting with a pistol.

I sighted.

Fired.

The sound was slightly reduced from the ear-destroying roar of the accelerator rifle, but the end result was still astounding. A bottle exploded and the brick wall behind it exploded in a spray of red dust. The hole left behind showed the beer-room beyond, filling with beer from a shattered casket. I blinked, lowering my pistol.

"Mr. Bates can pay for that," I said, quickly.

***

At long last, we came to the pier of Ashbury. Tall ships bobbed in the waves, and the hustle and the bustle of the loading and unloading of tradeships filled the air. Stevedores hurried on and off gangplanks, while cargo was swung about on huge wooden cranes. We walked along, looking about ourselves -- but Mr. Bates had provided only a vague description for Captain Teach, meaning that actually finding him might prove difficult. However, as Ashbury seemed to be the town of distractions, we were not even up to asking at the first ship before we came upon a scene deserving of our attention.

"Bugger!" Virginia swore, drawing my gaze -- and I saw what she had seen. A poor mongrel dog with a luxurious black fur and a lean, rangy body was sprawled on the floor of an alleyway. But he was sprawled there because some drunken looking gnomish man (I refused to call him a gentleman) was kicking the dog fiercely in the gut. The dog whined with each kick and I found myself rushing forward. I grabbed onto the gnome's arm and jerked him back.

"What are you doing?!" I asked, furiously.

The gnome looked up at me, blinking through his drunkeness. "This' fuckin' mutt stole my food, right of me plate..." he said, sounding quite surly. "I should do what I want with him, I should..." He scowled at me. "What do you care?"

"He looks like he's starving," I said, looking down at the poor dog, who continued to whimper quietly.

"Aww, you feel bad for the poor widdle-" the gnome made a gargling noise as my hand, quite of its own accord, closed about his windpipe. I glared at him. My voice was very low.

"Do not push me, good sir," I said, quietly. The gnome clutched at my wrist and I released him. He grasped at his throat, his hands shaking as he touched his bruised flesh. He coughed, then turned and fled. As he rapidly made himself scarce, I turned to find that Virginia was healing the poor dog the gnome had been kicking, while Sally and 'Magnus' had both fished out some sausages from their packs. The dog, whose head was lifting curiously, sniffed and then started to wolf down the food.

"Aww, the little mongrel is adorable," Gillian whispered. Her voice turned to a snarl. "You should have wrung that awful fellow's neck."

"I was quite tempted," I admitted, reaching down to rub the mutt's belly. He woofed happily, his tail wagging and thumping against the ground. He stood up, his whole body shaking as he waggled himself, sending bits of mud flying off his fur. We laughed and I rubbed his head. The dog licked at my fingers and I smiled. "Well, then, it seems we have a new companion!"

Virginia almost squealed with delight, petting the dog on the head. "What should we call him?"

"Barik!" 'Magnus' suggested.

"Alistair?" Gillian tossed out.

"Carth?" Virginia said, rubbing her chin.

"Nah!" Sally said, thumping me on the back hard enough to nearly put my head through a wall. "You should call 'im a good orcish name. Dakkon!"

I shook my head. "We're going to name him after my first dog, and that's final," I said.

"Awww!" Virginia cooed.

"Hows that sound, Dogmeat?" I asked, reaching down to scritch him under the chin. He woofed happily.

"What!?" Virginia squawked.

Dogmeat woofed again. As we set off, he walked happily by my side, his tail wagging. I petted him from time to time as we made our way along the pier, checking with each ship that was moored. Asking one captain or another soon led us to the very end of the third dock. There, a ship was tied up: A sleek, black painted craft with a brace of cannons on the gun deck and a crew that was busy working to ready her for sailing. Painted on the prow, in golden lettering, was the ship's christening: The Gypsy Shadow. Standing on her poop deck, with his hands upon his hips, was the man that I presumed was one Captain Edward Teach.

To call him flamboyant and frightening was a bit of an understatement. He was dressed in a red doublet -- hideously out of fashion, but still quite striking -- a red scarf, and had four pistols holstered on his person. All revolvers. He strutted about on the ship, bellowing orders, and this showed off the other impressive thing about his person: His beard. His immense, bushy blond beard. It was shockingly blond, matching the long hair on his head and the nearly invisible lines of his eyebrows. His eyes were a sky blue, and they practically glowed as they spied us.

"Aha! The good Doctor Cog!" he shouted, leaping off the poop deck and hurrying down the gangplank to meet us. Even close up, he continued to bellow every word he said. "I've heard of you -- Mr. Bates telegramed head. He said to me, Old Teach, I want you to bring these fellows to the Isle of Despair. And you know what I said?"

"You're insane?" I suggested.

Teach laughed -- and I swore that his beard was smoking slightly. He slapped his palm against my back and began to march me up the gangplank. My comrades followed me -- each looking less than comforted. Save for Sally. Sally seemed to be in her element.

"Yes!" he said. "But then I read on: A bunch of dwarves need rescuing from that blighted place? Well, that does sound like a job for old Teach it does." He grinned. "And it sounds like a job for the fastest ship this side of Razor's Cape. I'll have you know..." His voice grew soft. "I shot through the Thanatos shallows like that." He snapped his fingers. "Three days, it took, riding a gale like it was summoned by Kerghan himself." He chuckled. "I've faced down kraken and pirates and I've even outrun Stringy Pete himself once, and so, I can say it true...I'll get you to the damn Isle of Despair."

I smiled. "Well, that's...encouraging?"

"That it is!" Teach laughed, then walked with me to the railing. The glassy smooth sea shone before us. "And the sea's never been calmer. Now, Old Teach doesn't like to be superstitious, but I'd say it looks like a good omen."

I smiled.

"And a better omen?" Teach asked. "You brought me Sally back! Sally!" he turned. "You still up for being my best topman?"

"Aye, Captain!" Sally said, cheerfully.

I spun around. "What!?"

"Oh, right!" Sally said, hiccuping. "I forgot. Teach, this is Ray. He's hung like a horse, fucks like an elf, and is tough as you." She grinned. "n'smarter than -hic- Mr. Bates. So, ya know, he's aight."

Captain Teach laughed.

I was beginning to think it was going to be a long voyage.

TO BE CONTINUED