The Machinist Part One

Year Zero
1
Zachariah Eight Arms cried. It was the first time in a long time that he had done that. He wiped his face with the back of his hand. He had to think of some way out of this mess. He had to save his daughter if he could.

His wife had been ripped apart in front of him as he tried to think of some way to escape the thing plowing through the buildings. Then their building had fallen down on top of him, and Sola. He couldn’t tell if she was all right in the pile of bricks and wooden beams.

He knew he needed to do something. The thing had erupted in the middle of the city. Daemons would respond with as much force as they could wield to kill it. His building, the remains of his building, were in the target zone.

He needed to get himself and Sola out of that imaginary circle before even more bad things happened to them.

How could he do that pinned down like he was? He had to summon his daemon and put it to work. It was the only way. It was slow, but maybe it could build something to move the bricks before the counterattack started.

He concentrated and his daemon pushed out of the pores of his torn skin. He smiled as he tried to think of his next move. He needed light to see with, and a way to move the rubble pinning him down.

His daemon ate some of the rubble and split apart until a swarm filled the spaces around him. The familiar buzzing made him smile. A small light kicked on next to his face. He turned his head as much as he could to preserve his vision. The swarm collapsed into one six-legged bug.

“Good job, Gold Bug,” said Zachariah. “I need you to build something to move this stuff off of me. I need you to hurry. I have a feeling that I don’t have long.”

Festus and Primrose would be in the air by now if they were still alive. He had to get free before they acted.

“Sola!,” called Zachariah. “Can you hear me? I’m trying to free us.”

Gold Bug chewed on the rubble, and split. Each component chewed on a piece, then split apart. Then the clones chewed and split. They did this a hundred times. Each time they split apart, they remained connected by a thread of silver.

They shaped the silver until they had something that resembled a lamp on a stand. The light came on and the brick vanished in the glare.

Zachariah waited for the lamp to cut off before he shrugged out of the pile that remained. His daemon knew everything he did, and he had studied far and wide before coming home. A little concentrated light would be in their wheelhouse.

“Sola!,” He shouted. “I’m looking for you.”

“I’m over here, Da!,” cried the little girl. “I’m over here.”

“Can you summon your daemon?,” asked Zachariah. It was still weak, but it might be useful in this situation. Gold Bug just wasn’t fast enough in his opinion.

“I think so,” said Sola. “Hardy, Hardy!”

A flying insect appeared in the light. It buzzed as its skin shimmered. It looked around, finally lighting on a pile of brick.

“We need to free Sola and get out of here,” said Zachariah. “I need something to help move the rock, Gold Bug. It will be up to you to get her free, Hardy.”

Zachariah turned the lamp to point up. He turned on the power for a moment. The collapsed ceiling burned away above. It gave him an excellent view of flying things with too many eyes and teeth circling above.

It also gave them an excellent view of him struggling to free his daughter. Some of them swooped down to make a meal of this sudden prize.

Gold Bug took the lamp apart as Zachariah tried to use it. It pointed the lens at the pile of rock where Sola must be. A distortion in the air sent the rubble flying up through the hole in the ceiling. The reverse rain scattered the flying things, but several had been too close when the rubble started flying and crashed in the street and against other houses in bloody rags that used to be bodies.

“Who taught you how to do that?,” asked Zachariah. “That was totally marvelous.”

Gold Bug applied the ray carefully until Sola was visible. Hardy waited for the beam to cut off before pulling her clear of the pile. Luckily the beams that supported the roof had fell in such a way that nothing fell directly on top of her and hurt her too much that she couldn’t move.

“Use the beam on the wall, Gold Bug,” said Zachariah. “We’re going to need to escape before more of those show up and try to kill us.”

The golden ant directed the beam at the intact wall farthest from the black column still battling other residents in the street. Nothing happened except some shaking of dust in the air.

“Go, Hardy, go,” commanded Sola. She pointed at the offending wall.

Her daemon punched through the wall after a moment to gather flight speed. It landed outside and remained in place so they could move under its watchful eyes.

Zachariah picked up his daughter and ducked through the hole. He was happy that the rest of the wall hadn’t fallen in on him. He ran from their building, not looking back. They had to get out of the city if they wanted to live.

“Let’s go,” said Zachariah. “We have to get out of here as fast as possible.”

Hardy picked him up and carried father and daughter down the streets away from the ocean. Gold Bug returned home to its nest so it could rest up for the next challenge. The second bug started to fade when its strength was gone.

Zachariah ran. His daughter wasn’t as light as she had been, but they were still making good time.

How long did they have before Festus dropped the hammer on the many tentacled thing behind them? That was how long they had to live.

Other citizens flew on the same path as him. Some carried others on the backs of their daemons. He couldn’t do that with Gold Bug. The daemon could only create fragile devices to alter the world’s natural laws, and more importantly was only six inches long if that much.

The best he could hope for was to create a swarm big enough to create a machine big enough to carry him and Sola out of danger. That would take too long considering his calculations.

Flying daemons and their riders blasted the mountainous beast with the energies under their control. He supposed it was to buy time for those on the ground to escape. One by one, they were snuffed out by the monster and its minions.

He stumbled over a boy and his daemon. He managed to keep upright as he stepped to keep from falling.

“What are you doing?,” asked Zachariah. “Run. Run for your lives.”

“You run, old man,” said the boy. “Knife and me can handle those flying things easily.”

“Stay and die then,” said Zachariah. He started jogging toward the edge of town again. He saw more of the minions swoop down on the straggling line, but there was nothing he could do.

Gold Bug didn’t have any offensive ability other than his bite.

Pulses of light fired into the wrongly designed birds. The boy and his daemon ran at Zachariah’s side. He realized that the daemon was mechanical like his own. It had produced a projector from its back to protect the trio as they fled down the avenue.

A whistling filled the air. Zachariah looked up. Something large was dropping on the city. They were dead. He kept running. If Sola could summon Hardy, the flying creature could carry her away from the destruction.

They didn’t both have to die.

“What’s going on?,” asked the boy.

“We’re about to die,” said Zachariah.

“Protective wall, Knife!,” shouted the boy.

“Bubble!,” shouted Zachariah. “Do a bubble if you can.”

“Do it,” said the boy.

The spider’s metallic shell split open. The gun came apart and then came back together in a new configuration. The shell slammed shut. A blue bubble encircled the three.

“Hunch down, and hope your daemon can hold the field,” said Zachariah. He wrapped himself around Sola and held her close. The boy tried to do the same for his daemon, but it was three times as big as he was, and yanked him under it.

The rock hit the meat tower in the center of the ruined port. The wave of air picked the ball up and flung it away as buildings on all sides started falling over.

“Hold on!,” screamed Zachariah. “Don’t let the bubble drop no matter what. It’s the only thing keeping us alive.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” said the boy.

The bubble, riding the blast wave, crashed through a building and bounced off a roof to land on a street and then roll to a stop. The center of the city was gone. Fragile creatures caught in the force from the rock drop had been rendered into meat rags pressed against the surviving walls of the city.

“Don’t let the bubble drop,” said Zachariah. “Festus won’t stop with just one.”

“How do you know?,” asked the boy.

“He’ll make sure he’s exterminated that thing whatever it was,” said the machinist. “That means he’s going to drop more rocks on the center of the city until he is sure he wiped it out.”

“We’re in that blast radius,” said the boy. “Look at what he’s already done.”

“We need to hunker down until we’re sure he’s stopped, or we need to start running and hope he has stopped,” said Zachariah.

“He hasn’t stopped,” said Sola. She pointed at a second rock falling next to the crater of the first strike.

“Hunker down and hope we can keep riding the wave to safety,” said Zachariah.

“I don’t know if Knife can take more,” said the boy.

“Can he just keep the bubble going for a little bit longer?,” said Sola.

The boy consulted with his spider, rubbing the metallic head. He nodded.

“We can keep it up for a little bit,” he said.

Sola concentrated. Hardy appeared from her hand. He buzzed into the air on extended wings.

“Hardy,” said Sola. “I need you to get this bubble moving with your ram. Otherwise, we’ll die.”

Hardy picked up the spider and started in the air. He poured on the speed as the whistling of more impacts sounded in the air. The wave of pushed air hit the bubble and sent it soaring through the air. The daemon stopped flying as the pressure pushed them out of the wrecked port.

The kids screamed in fear, but Zachariah looked behind them as much as he could as they tumbled through the air.

They hit and bounced in a field far away from where Riordiana had once stood. Knife let the field drop as they looked at the ocean filling in where the once mighty port had been.

Zachariah fought back the tears as he watched the water spin where his home used to be. Flying daemons that hadn’t been knocked out of the sky turned and flew out to sea.

“Where are they going?,” Sola asked.

“I don’t know,” said Zachariah. “We need to move away from here in case there are more of those flying bats around.”

“Knife can handle them,” said the boy. “Name’s Bolan.”

“Zachariah Eight Arms,” said Zachariah. “This is my daughter, Sola. Thank you for your help. We couldn’t have survived without you and your daemon.”

“I wouldn’t have either,” said Bolan. “What do we do now?”

“I’m heading inland for a bit,” said Zachariah. “There seem to be survivors heading to sea. You might be able to catch up with them and see what they are going to do.”

“Let’s stick together for a while,” said Bolan. “I don’t have anywhere to be.”

“Parents?,” asked Zachariah.

“They were going to the square when that thing appeared,” said Bolan.

2
A year and a half after the death of his wife, and the annihilation of his city,
Zachariah Eight Arms watched the gauges on his flying machine, and smiled. Sola and Bolan rode in the back so they could enjoy the ride and not criticize him on the performance of the thing that he had built.

It had taken a year of work to build all the parts he needed. He had performed odd jobs to get the food and shelter they needed. He had moved east from Riordiana’s crater all that time. Rumors circulated that some of the neighbors had invaded and been repulsed by his people.

Festus had wiped out his own city to stop whatever it was that had erupted in the middle of the capitol. There was no telling what he would do to people trying to take advantage of the situation.

Zachariah planned to travel to Messer’s Reach and study there for a bit. He hoped that his ability would allow him to work on the machines that the city was famous for while he improved his own knowledge.

He and Bolan had been able to fix every problem thrown at them so far, and when they had to resort to manual labor, Sola’s Hardy had been able to help them with enough rudimentary tasks that they had earned their pay and been able to move on without any problems.

They talked about going back, but there really wasn’t anything for them to go back to. Zachariah’s beloved Wanda had been ripped out of the sky while he watched. And Bolan’s parents had been in the square when the thing had erupted.

There was a chance they were still alive, but Bolan wanted to prove how useful Knife was before going back.

And the spider was a moving tool box that could make itself into anything they needed to get the job done.

Between Gold Bug and Knife, Zachariah didn’t see anything they couldn’t repair, or make, if they had enough time.

The flying machine they rode in was a case in point. It had taken hours to build. Gold Bug had to make the parts while Knife fitted them together. Hardy had lifted the mechanism where needed so they could attach the various components together. It still needed work, but the rough start was over so they could work on refining the process.

The library at Messer’s Reach might give them the means to boost the speed of the thing so it could go faster than a horse’s trot without burning something up.

A horse appeared on the trail ahead of them. The rider sat in his seat and let the horse walk along picking at the grass on the side of the road. The animal looked up and whinnied at the sight of the silver carriage floating along the trail, stirring up dust.

The rider looked over his shoulder and smiled. He pulled the horse off the trail so they could pass without spraying the two with debris thrown up by the jets along the bottom of the thing.

Zachariah moved to the left of the trail so he didn’t spray the rider. Twigs and chewed bushes exploded from the jet as the engine cut most of it up and used it for fuel.

That was a good idea, thought Zachariah. It kept the engine moving and anything providing fuel meant they could use their garbage from camping as a source.

Three men stepped out in the middle of the road. The middle one held up one hand. The other dropped to the hilt of his sword.

“Highwaymen,” said Zachariah. “They probably want the cart.”

“They’re not getting it,” said Bolan. “We put too much time in this thing to hand it over to some thieves.”

“Bolan is right,” said Sola. She held Hardy in her arms. The flying insect was bigger than what Zachariah remembered. He looked about the size of a house cat now.

How big could he grow if they kept using him to lift things?

Zachariah put that speculation out of his head. He had to deal with the bandits in front of him. He had the inclination to just ram through their line, but thought that was exceedingly dangerous with the children in the cart.

“Stand and deliver!,” shouted the bandit over the buzzing of the cart as it hovered in place. “Throw down your valuables, or we will kill you and your children.”

“We don’t have any valuables,” said Zachariah. “Please step aside. We are trying to go to Messer’s Reach.”

“No valuables?,” said the bandit. “Then how did you get this magical cart?”

“We built it from parts,” said Zachariah. “Please let us pass. We don’t want any trouble.”

“They’re aren’t listening,” said Bolan. “We might have to resort to violence.”

The bushes rattled to one side of the cart. A man flew out on the road. He had a growing lump on his face.

There were more sounds on that side of the road. The three bandits and the Riordianians looked at the undergrowth. Something snapped and a man screamed. The rider from earlier stepped out of the bushes. He wore a smile as he looked at the three bandits in the road.

“How’s it going?,” said the lone traveler. “Name’s Cantrell, Geoff Cantrell. That last one was a bit clumsy of me. Had to break his leg. I think he might be all right if you can get him to a medician.”

“We can still kill you,” said the lead bandit. His hand dropped to the hilt of his sword.

“Hold on,” said Geoff. “If you pull steel, I’ll have to kill you. It’s nothing personal. I understand. I messed up your ambush, broke your friend’s leg, maybe hurt some of these other guys, so a certain irritation is to be expected. But if I have to pull my sword, I’ll have to kill all of you and I don’t want to do that. It makes my girlfriend think I don’t appreciate her. So just walk away and rob someone else.”

“Do you really think you can take the three of us?,” said the bandit. He looked at his friends. They didn’t look so confident of the odds.

“If you want to die and get your friends killed, you pull that sword and see what happens,” said Geoff. He wore a smile on his round face. His eyes were pieces of coal. “I get a dispensation for killing idiots.”

The two bandits fled from their leader.

“Besides you don’t want to rob Riordins,” said Geoff. “Their king has been making examples of people. You don’t want to be the guy who caused a giant rock to fall out of the sky and wipe out your whole village, do you?”

“I suppose not,” said the lead bandit.

“We’re going to ride on and let you figure out how to get your friends home,” said Geoff. He waved at Zachariah to drive on. “Do something else. You don’t want to be scrubbing latrines for eighty years to work off your sins. The Underworld is a horrible place as far as that goes.”

Zachariah pushed the throttle forward and his mechanized cart floated through the busted barricade and kept going. He looked behind him. Geoff’s horse had walked out of the trees and the knight swung up in the saddle. He gave a cheery wave before urging the horse to start walking again.

“That was something,” said Bolan. “I was about to call Knife and have him do something to get us clear.”

“If we had fought, the men in the trees would have come forward to take us by surprise,” said Zachariah. “We would have looked like easy pickings if we were surrounded on all sides.”

“Hardy would have taken care of them,” said Sola. “He’s bigger now.”

She rubbed the beetle’s shell. He looked like a cat in her arms.

“We didn’t have to fight, and that’s what matters,” said Zachariah. “Once we get to Messer’s Reach, we can improve the cart into something faster than a horse, maybe find a way to make a bunch of them at the same time so we can turn our attention to other things.”

“That Geoff said that Riordiana is rebuilding,” said Bolan. “They’ll be able to help us more than any outsider.”

“We can ask to put a factory there,” said Zachariah. “But until we figure out the power dynamics and how to get a bit more power to her, no one is going to want this as it is now. You can’t even plow a field with it.”

“If we increase the pull, we’ll rip up the ground as we go,” said Bolan. “The suction would chop dirt apart in an instant.”

“It’ll look like a giant snake’s trail,” said Sola. “It kind of looks like that now, but not as wide.”

“Maybe we should add wings to it,” said Bolan. “That would give it lift.”

“I would like to go home, Da,” said Sola.

“There’s nothing there for us, Sola,” said Zachariah. “Everything is gone.”

“What happens if we can’t mass build these flying carts?,” said Bolan.

“I have been working on some other things we can do,” said Zachariah. “Long range transportation and cargo placement has always been there, but most people prefer horses. We might be able to change that if we can come up with the right solution for the problem.”

“How much work are we talking about doing?,” asked Bolan.

“I don’t know yet,” admitted Zachariah. “The initial designs call for a much bigger engine than the one we put in our cart.”

“How big, Da?,” asked Sola.

“I don’t have it worked out yet, but bigger than this by far,” said Zachariah. “We might have to keep moving if we can’t find a place to work on things.”

“Won’t the government want these things if it will replace the horse?,” said Bolan.

“Only if we can figure out how to make them go faster, and spray less,” said Zachariah.

3
Zachariah eased the throttle to neutral so the cart floated in place as he joined a long line heading into Messer’s Reach. The kids had been lulled to sleep by the vibration of the machine.

He watched the guards check the drivers and wagons before they were cleared to go inside the walls. He knew his cart didn’t have any hollow features for them to check. He supposed he should make sure they didn’t stick their hands in the suction.

He floated the cart up to the gate as gently as possible. He glanced in the back. Bolan and Sola were still asleep. Hardy rested in Sola’s arms. If anything happened, the insect might batter the guards out of the way with its hardened shell body.

He would have to push the throttle wide open to take advantage and crash the gate before someone tried to stop him.

“Welcome to Messer’s Reach,” said one of the guards. “What is your name and the purpose of your visit?”

“Zachariah Eight Arms, and I am here to consult with the great library about improving my cart,” said Zachariah. “This is Sola, my daughter, and this is Bolan, my ward. We’re hoping to find work while I do my research.”

“You’re from Riordiana?,” asked the guard.

“Yes,” said Zachariah. He supposed everyone wanted to know what had happened to his city.

“The Riordianan Ambassador left a request that any of his countrymen should be directed to the embassy if they arrived,” said the guard. “Do you know how to get there?”

“I’ll take them, bud,” said Geoff Cantrell, riding his slow horse up to the head of the line. “Geoff Cantrell, I am passing through to Baldwin, then Corwin’s Mansions, then parts further northeast, but I haven’t decided where yet.”

“And you do know where the embassy is?,” said the guard. He gave Geoff a skeptical look.

“I just saved these people from some bandits,” said Geoff. “I think I can escort them to where they have to be.”

“He did do that,” said Zachariah. “The bandits fled after he showed them who was boss.”

“The ambassador might be able to fix you up with some lodging for your stay,” said the guard. He wrote out three passes. “Keep these with you at all times. Unless something happens, when the time is up, you will be expected to leave in three days.”

“Thank you,” said Zachariah. He put the three passes in his boot. “I appreciate it.”

“Sorry about your city,” said the guard. He waved the cart and horse through the gate.

Geoff waved at the guards as he kicked his horse into a slight trot to get in the wall and out of the line. He steered the horse through the local beggars who fled the cart as it followed.

The wandering knight led the way to a house with a central courtyard. Zachariah recognized the design from his youth. If someone went after the gate, people could climb the wall and repel them.

Mostly it was daemons doing the repelling and the means were not pleasant from what he had heard.

A doorman stood by the opened door to give people access to the central courtyard. If someone managed to knock down the main door, daemons above them and in position in front of them would be able to inflict greater injuries depending on what was used.

A lava type would put a stop to most people’s shenanigans.

“I’m going to keep riding,” said Geoff. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”

“Thank you for your help,” said Zachariah. “I would have never had found this place in the time limit the guards gave us.”

“Sure you would have,” said Geoff. “Someone would have given you directions. I’ll try to drop in the next time I am in town.”

“My house will always be open,” said Zachariah. He told Hardy to guard the cart and his daughter before he climbed down from the control seat. He walked over to the door and pulled a bell rope to be recognized.

A functionary opened the door. He smiled out of habit at seeing a visitor on the door step. Zachariah didn’t smile back.

“The guards at the gate said the ambassador wanted to see anyone from Riordiana,” said Zachariah. “Zachariah Eight Arms.”

“Come with me,” said the functionary. “I will get you some tea. The ambassador will be with you in a moment.”

The functionary led Zachariah to the central court. A small table and chairs had been set up so you could watch the fish in the carved pond in the pavered floor. He studied the fish but felt they weren’t daemons.

Zachariah felt the ambassador had contact with Riordiana, or what was at Riordiana. He should already know about the destruction of the city, and what had happened afterward. Why interview people who were reaching Messer’s Reach almost two years later.

The door to the courtyard opened. A wider man than the functionary appeared. He wore a suit of gray and black. His hair had decided that it mostly didn’t want anything to do with the knobby head he possessed and jumped ship.

“I’m Campbell,” said the ambassador. “Would you like some tea and biscuits?”

“My daughter is waiting for me,” said Zachariah. “The guard said you put a request for people to talk to you.”

“The king and the council are still trying to figure out what happened, and how to combat it in the future,” said Campbell. “They are collecting survivor reports in hopes of learning the origin of whatever it was that attacked the city.”

“It was creature pulled from the Abyss,” said Zachariah. “I don’t know if the summoner survived the summoning, or what Festus did later, but I do know what I saw. I’m sure that Festus got a clear look at it when he destroyed the city.”

“How sure are you of that?,” asked the Ambassador.

“I am positive of what I saw,” said Zachariah. “It was a tower of black flesh with eyes and tentacles and things moving on it. My daughter and I had been buried in my workshop when it appeared in the central district. My wife was killed defending us.”

“How did you get to Messer’s Reach?,” asked Campbell.

“My daughter and I have worked odd jobs to get here so I could consult the Grand Library,” said Zachariah. “There was nothing tying us to my work shop since it was destroyed with the rest of the city.”

“I understand,” said Campbell. “They have partially rebuilt the city in the ocean since you’ve been gone. Bridges have been built to the mainland so trade can resume. Hunters have cleared the odd creatures out of the land surrounding where the old city once stood.”

“Those bat things?,” said Zachariah.

“Those and some other things that came across when the main horror was
summoned,” said Campbell. “Word reached here after the initial event and I was ordered to stay in place and gather any reports from any survivors. They have mostly been the same with the loss of flying daemons and their riders, complete loss of the city to a terror beyond words, and then the king destroying the land. Messengers have kept me appraised of conditions back home.”

“What if the summoner is still alive?,” said Zachariah. “He might try again.”

“Access to the island is restricted from what I hear,” said Campbell. “Only our people are allowed to land there. Everyone else is directed to the new harbor.”

Zachariah nodded. That would make it harder for another attack, but not impossible. All it would take was one man determined enough to get through the defenses. Then he could wipe out the new city just as effectively as the old.

“You said your workshop fell on top of you and your daughter?,” said Campbell. “Where was your workshop?”

“It stood in the middle of Aurora Avenue, about fifty to sixty feet from the Central Square,” said Zachariah. “I’m a machinist, and worked on designs for buildings and boats.”

“How’s your daughter?,” asked Campbell.

“She’s fine,” said Zachariah. “She has been helping me with the odd jobs I have picked up.”

“I have been arranging work tickets for our people to stay here in the city beyond their three days,” said Campbell. “Ask Leonard for one when you leave.”

“Thank you,” said Zachariah. “Are you going back?”

“My posting will be up in a few years,” said Campbell. “I will probably be asked to serve somewhere else at the discretion of the king.”

“If you want some honest work, I will be glad to have you,” said Zachariah. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure was all mine,” said Campbell. “I have some functions I have to attend to for the local government, but the door is always open.”

Zachariah nodded. He walked to the exit from the garden. He almost smiled. At least the city had reclaimed its land and the harbor for trade. It could be prosperous again even after the devastating attack he had witnessed.

He could do the same thing if he worked hard enough.

He met the functionary on the way to the door. The man stood there with hands behind his back.

“Are you Leonard?,” Zachariah asked.

“Yes,” said the functionary.

“I’m supposed to get a work permit from you,” said Zachariah.

“I have one right here,” said Leonard. He handed over a card made of blue fiber. “Don’t lose it.”

“I’ll be setting up a workshop,” said Zachariah. “If you need anything fixed, come by and get me once I have it going.”

“It will be my pleasure,” said Leonard. “Take care, sir.”

“Thanks,” said Zachariah. He walked out of the front doors and headed down to the cart resting on its skids. They still needed a place to live, and a way to improve the cart so it was practical.

They needed a place they could use for their workshop as well as living quarters unless they combined the two. He thought about it as he climbed into his seat. He started the engine and let the jet whine up before he pushed the throttle down.

Pedestrians pointed at him as he drove through town. He supposed they had never seen a cart like his before. He knew that Messer’s Reach was known for advancements in science and magic. Someone must have thought of his idea before this.

He needed a place to stay for himself and his kids. Campbell hadn’t really pointed out a place for him to go. Perhaps he should ask a guard for help.

And he realized he didn’t know where the grand library was either.

He laughed softly at himself. He had planned so much on just getting to the walled city. He had given no thought on what to do when he got there.

He should have at least done more than listen to people on the road.

He decided the best thing he could do was try to find a place where he could park the cart, build a workshop around it, and add on sleeping quarters for himself and the children. He needed something like a warehouse.

He couldn’t rent one. He needed one that was unused and derelict. He could fix the building to suit his needs if most of the interior was still there.

The daemons would have to do most of the work like they had been doing, but they were patient about things, and had no problem in that regard. For every piece of wire, or shaft, created by Gold Bug, Hardy and Knife had to put it in place, or hold things so they could be put together.

Putting a roof, or part of a wall, together shouldn’t be that much of a problem for the three daemons working together.

Something howled on Zachariah’s left. He glanced that way, expecting to see a hideous tower of flesh ripping up the city. He blinked and saw that a metal cart was pulling a line of boxes behind it inside the wall.

He smiled. It was the city’s famous train. He wouldn’t mind looking at that. It might help him with his own design problems.

He didn’t want a place near its path. The noise would keep him from thinking about what he should be doing.

But it would be nice to have a place that he could watch the train in action when he wanted.

That would make it easier to make design notes and fix problems that arose while he worked on his own ideas.

“What was that?,” asked Bolan. “It sounded huge.”

“It’s the train,” said Zachariah. “It’s what we’re going to be measuring our future carts against.”

“That was a loud noise, Da,” said Sola. She stretched out her arms. “I know, Hardy. Just a little longer.”

“I’m looking for a place we can stay without having to pay any money,” said Zachariah. “It has to be some place no one else wants so we can work in peace, and do odd jobs on the side while we experiment.”

“I’ll send Hardy out, Da,” said Sola. “He can find us a place faster than we will just driving around town.”

“All right,” said Zachariah. “Hardy, we need a space a bit bigger than my workshop back home, no matter the condition, not too close to the train.”

“Find it, Hardy,” said Sola. “We’ll be looking from here.”

The bug jetted into the sky. He zoomed above the roofs of the white brick and plain glass buildings. He vanished after a few seconds.

He returned a few seconds later, circling over the cart. He led the way through the city, making allowances for the cart to travel on the streets below. He picked one building in the middle of some others that looked in better shape.

“What does the sign say, Da?,” asked Sola. She pointed at a piece of wood nailed to the door of the place.

“Condemned,” said Zachariah. “Shall we look it over?”

“Doesn’t Condemned mean unlivable?,” asked Bolan.

“It does,” said Zachariah. “I hope to renovate the property and turn it into my workshop. And we’ll need a place to live if we want to stay here and improve the cart.”

“Can we just take over a building?,” asked Bolan.

“I don’t see why not,” said Zachariah. “Let’s look inside. Leave the sign up so no one thinks about coming inside while we’re working.”

They climbed out of the cart. Zachariah pulled the door open. It about fell off in his hands. He shook his head at the nearly destroyed hinges. He led the way inside the building and looked at everything.

It would take a lot of work to get set up, but this could be the place they needed. His mental list of repairs stretched on without stopping as he assessed everything.

“This place is a wreck,” said Bolan. “How are we going to fix this up?”

“The first thing we’re going to need to do is clean all this debris out,” said Zachariah. “Then we can think of a way to replace the roof. Then we can do the minor things.”

“Like replace the door?,” said Bolan.

“Like replace the door,” said Zachariah. He looked around the wide empty shell once more. “Now that we have a potential home, maybe we can get something to eat.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Bolan.

“Food would be good, but not here,” said Sola. “Let’s clean the place up before we try to eat in here.”

4
Zachariah looked at the parts spread on the table in front of him. They looked as good as anything he could find anywhere. Gold Bug and Knife were a good team.

“Master Baker is here, Da,” said Sola. “He wants to know if you are done.”

“Tell him I am putting the mixer back together right now,” said Zachariah. He fitted the pieces into a whole in seconds. Then he wiped everything down so it wouldn’t be greasy to the touch.

He wrapped the thing in paper and tied the bundle with string so it wouldn’t flop around. He glanced at the other things he needed to work on as he took the bundle to the foyer of their building.

It had taken some time, but they had a thriving business now. He wouldn’t have thought it possible when he first drove the cart into Messer’s Reach. If he had a few more machinists, he could open another shop and have someone else take some of the work off his hands.

He smiled at that. He doubted there was really that much use for other Machinists in the city. Maybe some day when machines were more common, but not now.

“Master Baker,” said Zachariah. “Here is your mixer.”

“Thank you,” said the heavyset customer. He took the bundle in wide hands. “What was wrong with it?”

“One of the gears had stripped some teeth,” said Zachariah. “I had to replace the gears and make sure they would turn together. No big deal.”

“Thank you again,” said Master Baker. He handed over a pouch of clinking coins. “Here is your payment.”

“Thank you,” said Zachariah. He walked the man to the service entrance and told him to come by if he had any more trouble before closing the door. He handed Sola the pouch to be counted and put away.

She handled their finances and made sure they had enough money for food and basic necessities.

Zachariah was not the haggler she was, and knew it. She took after her mother in that regard.

He looked around again before retreating into his small workshop. They had done a good job on the building. It looked brand new on the inside, and a little better than average on the outside.

Cleaning the place up had been as simple as turning Gold Bug loose and telling him to eat everything not wanted. By the time the daemon was through, there were thousands of ants chewing on trash and debris. Once that was done, they used the eaten trash to form the basis of a new roof by having the swarm extend lines across the open areas above them. Hardy had to carry them one by one in his talons as they laid the line.

Bolan and Knife had gone over the walls and made sure the internal supports were taken down and replaced one by one so that the roof wouldn’t fall in on them. Then they had cleaned the floor with some kind of spray gun Knife produced from his back. That got a lot of the stains out almost instantly.

The rest had been dividing up the internal space so they had a big workshop for the cart prototypes, a small workshop for any business they might have to do to support themselves, a living area for the three of them which was divided up into personal spaces so everyone had their own place to go when they didn’t want to talk to the others. A small library and office space had been built in between Zachariah’s personal rooms and the cart room so he could work on designs between jobs.

Odd jobs had started as soon as they made sure the outside was repainted white to blend in with the rest of the neighborhood. Zachariah and Bolan had been called to fix pumps, normal carts, broken cooking utensils, and dozens of other things. The jobs had been easy with the help of Gold Bug and Knife. The two consulted together just as much as their human counterparts.

And when everything was over for the day, Zachariah would go up on the roof and watch the train go by, thinking about ways to make his own vehicle faster and more responsive.

He had worked in some improvements so he was sure that he could set up a line to make carts on demand. The problem was that it wasn’t faster than a horse, and the noise of the jet scared most animals that it came close to on the road.

People using horse and oxen would not appreciate their animals fleeing from a noisy machine. If the animals were hurt, that would be more cause for recriminations.

Zachariah turned his attention to the next thing he had to fix. Someone had broken their best metal bowl and they wanted it put back together. He picked at the fragments with his fingers and wondered how they had shattered something like that. He doubted it was some kind of accident like he was told.

Maybe they had frozen it somehow and that had made the substance brittle enough to break.

He liked that explanation but couldn’t think what could have broken the bowl other than some kind of magic.

And he couldn’t fix anything magical.

“We’re going out, Da,” said Sola. “I’m putting the closed sign on the door so no one bothers you while we’re gone.”

“Going out?,” said Zachariah. “Going out where?”

“The Air Race is today,” said Sola. “Hardy and I want to watch.”

“It should be spectacular,” said Bolan. “We’ll get to see some flying.”

“I forgot that was today,” said Zachariah. “I suppose we can take the cart and drive over to the field.”

“We figured that some of the flying machines would be the equal of what we have,” said Bolan. “If we could get a look at them, maybe that would give us some pointers on how to improve our own machine.”

“People will be coming in from miles around to watch things,” said Sola. “We might not be able to get on the field to see anything.”

“We’ll think of something,” said Zachariah. “Maybe you two are right. Maybe I have been thinking too small.”

“You want to turn the cart into a flying machine?,” said Bolan. “Could we do that?”

“Yes,” said Zachariah. “It might be more dangerous, but I don’t see why the engine wouldn’t power it across the country.”

“A real flying machine?,” asked Sola. “Can you do it?”

“I don’t see why not,” said Zachariah. “Let’s go down to the field and see what we see.”

“This will be great,” said Bolan.

“We might not be able to equal what we see at first,” said Zachariah. “We’ll have to judge what we can do by what’s already been done.”

“We built the cart on wild guesses and daemon spit,” said Bolan. “We can build a flying machine if we want to do it. Do we want to do it is all we need to know.”

Zachariah nodded. Bolan was right. They had built the cart without knowing anything except that Gold Bug could fashion things for them, and Knife and Hardy could put it together. A flying machine would be more of the same.

He climbed behind he controls of the cart and powered it up. He turned it in the confines of the space and pointed the nose at the outer doors. Sola and Hardy opened the doors for him to pull out in the street. They shut the doors and Knife applied a lock so they could leave without worrying about someone breaking in.

Zachariah waited for the children to get on board before turning and driving through the streets. He hoped they hadn’t waited too long. The air show would be crowded with people who wanted to fly.

He thought about modifications to the cart so he could get it higher than three feet off the ground. It would need a lot more power in his estimation which might require a bigger engine.

He waved at people heading in the same direction that he was. He got different types of waves back. He gritted his teeth at the rude gestures. At least the children didn’t know what they meant so he could conceal that much from them until they were older.

“Up your mother’s fundament!,” shouted Bolan.

“Yeah, what he said!,” said Sola.

“What?,” said Zachariah. He looked over his shoulder. Bolan and Knife were giving rude gestures back. Knife had a lot of extra limbs to do that. “Do you two mind?”

“No,” said Bolan. A grin covered his face. “This is the best part.”

“Stop harassing the crowd,” said Zachariah. “We’re going out to have a great day, not shout epitaphs at strangers.”

“If you say so,” said Bolan. “I don’t see why we can’t do both.”

“They started it, Da,” said Sola.

“Does that make it right?,” said Zachariah.

“I guess not,” she said. He knew she was sulking, but there was nothing he could do about that. He had to find a place to pull the cart so they could walk to the edge of the field and get a spot for the show.

He expected some of the flying machines to be on the field so he could look at them. He doubted he would be able to learn much from their designs without plans but he should be able to guess at certain things.

And Gold Bug should be able to discern things to help with manufacturing copies of what he did see.

Testing would be the main problem. He didn’t think he should try to send someone up unless he was sure they wouldn’t die. He expected that the machinery might explode if he misjudged a single piece.

He wasn’t willing to risk anyone until he was sure that they could survive a crash at the minimum.

The three Riordianians found a place at the edge of the field. A melting pot of people surrounded them. Everyone looked at the winged machines sitting on the grass. Some Riordianians walked their dragons/birds/winged creatures around to get ready for the race. An Alvas stood beside what looked like a tree. Two stumpy, barrel shaped Wurves stood beside a giant dagger that glittered with lines along its skin.

“Looks like someone invested some magic into things,” said Zachariah. “I wonder how it will do against the rest.”

“Why a tree?,” asked Bolan.

“I don’t know,” said Zachariah.

“Because the tree is magic,” said Sola. “I bet there is some kind of lifting spell that picks it up and puts it down somewhere else.”

“That makes sense,” said Bolan. “But will it be fast?”

Sola shrugged. There was no telling how fast the tree or the dagger were compared to the rest of the field. She doubted they would have entered the race if they were very slow.

“Can everyone hear me?,” said a voice booming over the field. “This is Ronald Bell Thrower. I need everyone to go to your machines and start your engines.”

Zachariah called Gold Bug to sit on his shoulder and watch things with him. The insect should be able to measure things as they happened.

The pilots boarded their vehicles and animals as they waited for the announcer to commence the starting spiel to get them into the air. Various noises erupted from the grounded vehicles as they readied to fly.

“All right,” said Ronald. “When I give the word, you will launch according to your number, circle the city twice, and then head for Baldwin. As soon as you check in there, you should get some rest, refuel, and then head out for the next leg of the race which is over Corwin’s Mansions, and then to Lobster Castle. Once you reach Lobster Castle, you are to do two loops around the island and then head southwest to the Crater Desert. Once you reach the checkpoint there, you are to fly to Riordiana Harbor, then back here to the field. Pilots should keep their checkpoint tallies in hand at all times to verify that you landed and talked to race officials. Everyone understand the route?”

Zachariah didn’t know who he was asking. Was he asking the pilots, or the crowd?

“So they aren’t staying in the city?,” said Bolan. “How are we supposed to study them?”

“I already am,” said Zachariah. “Do you think Knife can record what he sees for us?”

“I didn’t think of that,” said Bolan. “Knife can draw anything he can look at. That’s how we put together Master Ryan’s red boat.”

“Better get him started,” said Zachariah. “It won’t be long before the race starts.”

Knife dropped to the ground. Its eight eyes focused on the crowd. Some of the nearby crowd focused on it and moved away.

“We need you to do drawings of the flying machines,” said Bolan. “Can you do it?”

Knife whirred internally. A tray opened in its belly. A piece of paper showing the assemblage on the ground fell out.

“Keep doing that until the race has started,” said Bolan. “We might need pictures of the planes in flight too if you can do that.”

Knife chittered quietly. He slid more drawings out as the machines jostled for position to lift off and head on the route determined by the commission.

The machines started down the field one by one, lifting off gracefully as the pilots turned on the circle they were supposed to follow around the inner wall over the train tracks. The daemons launched with a flap of their wings, some of them vanishing as they made the turn and headed on the circle. The flying dagger launched from the ground and circled amidst the other fliers. The tree was last, waiting for its number to be called. Then the roots carried it forward like big feet, the limbs began to spin at the top of the trunk. It floated into the air and chased after the other fliers.

Bolan picked up the pictures and smiled as he watched the colorful vehicles head out.

“I want to do that next year,” he said.