Chapter 31 – The Clocksmith and A Moment’s Peace

“This… this really is amazing,” Tel said as he carefully screwed the final plate back on the spherical device. “I can’t believe you had not one, but two of these!”

“And I can’t believe you knew how to fix them!” the Clocksmith sitting beside Tel at the workbench said, his fingers tracing across the gauntlet-like control devices for the spheres. “A working pair of Eighth Generation Anti-Personnel Pods. They will work, right?”

“APPs aren’t terribly complicated, Inonel,” Tel said to the man, referring to the devices by their acronym. “Other than their flight mechanism, but those were in surprisingly good shape in both of these.”

“Not complicated? Tel, we’ve had these APPs in this enclave for almost twenty years. Nobody has had even the slightest inkling what was wrong, let alone being able to fix them,” Inonel said.

“Really, it’s nothing to be too impressed by,” Tel said, heat rising in his neck, but it was good to be able to just sit down and work. “I’ve had some experience with the interface system they use. The problem wasn’t the APPs so much, as their connection to the control gloves.”

“So, can we test them?” Inonel asked, holding up the gauntlets for Tel to take. “You fixed them. You get the honor.”

“Are… are you sure it’s safe?” Tel asked, his eyes scrolling up to look at the ceiling, imagining the bustling city through the thick rock above. They should be far enough down nobody in the city would be able to sense the chaos energy. But… Tailcoats. There were a lot of Tailcoats in Bastion. All it would take is one noticing something literally under their feet, and then it would be Tel’s enclave all over again.

Blood. Bodies. Dead colleagues. The smell cloying in his noise. Their screams in his ears…

Tel winced at the voice reappearing in his head, but looked back down at the APPs. The voice wasn’t wrong – Eighth Generation APPs were potent. Tel would be able to fight back if it came to it.

No. It wouldn’t come to that. Tel was here to fix – not kill – things.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Inonel said. “But, don’t worry. We’ve been down here for decades, and the Tailcoats have never found us. It’s safe to turn these on.”

Tel tentatively took the gauntlets, but didn’t immediately slip them onto his hands. Inonel was right – this enclave had been here for a long time. If the Tailcoats were going to sense a small burst of chaos energy, they would’ve done so years before.

Still, there was a part of him – too big a part – that wanted to turn the APPs on and see what they could do. And not just because he’d fixed them. No, it was the part of him connected to that voice. Connected to his past.

To the things he’d done.

Maybe it would just be best to put them down or let Inonel do the testing?

“What are you waiting for? Here, let me help,” Inonel said, snagging one of the gauntlets and then slipping it onto Tel’s arm in a surprisingly fluid motion.

Tel paused at the familiar and comforting feel of the casing around his arm, the way it hugged his skin, and his eyes traced over the metal.

“Now the other one,” Inonel said, repeating the same process with Tel’s left hand, and just like that he had both gauntlets on. “Hrm. Maybe I got a bit ahead of myself. You’re only supposed to use these one at a time, right?”

“Depends,” Tel said, his hesitation fading as his pulse quickened, and bent his thumbs. The small motion, connected to gears near his wrist, activated the various sensors in the APPs. Like the gun he’d used in the woods, they instantly began taking numerous measurements which were displayed on the forearm plates of the remotely connected gauntlets. No sooner had Tel looked at the first sets of numbers, then small gears on the underside of the gauntlets and in the APPs whirred to life.

“It’s working. They’re working!” Inonel said, actually jumping to his feet with a clap of his hands. “And you’re doing both at the same time?”

“Mmmm,” Tel mumbled with a nod, eyes darting back and forth at the displays. A bit warmer than he would’ve guessed, and a lower air pressure. Because we’re underground? Higher humidity too. Probably because of the nearby sewers? Yuck. Both sets of numbers were within a few percent of each other, though the left gauntlet was the one that seemed off by the uneven flow of chaos energy. That could be fixed with a small adjustment after.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Now then,” Tel said, his earlier reluctance completely gone, and stood up. Two steps back from the table workbench to make room, and he began tapping his fingers as if he were playing a piano. Hands moving in paired unison, more gears whirred in the APPs, and the head-sizes spheres suddenly rolled slightly to right themselves on the bench.

“This is so exciting,” Inonel breathed. “Will they fly?”

Tel’s eyes roved across the various readings, numbers from the performance of the APPs joining the ambient measurements to fuel the chaos cycle. Everything looked to be within acceptable limits, but… Tel quirked his head to the side and closed his eyes.

There it was. That was what was bugging him. The left APP, again. The sound wasn’t quite right. A touch too low. It wasn’t a problem yet – maybe just a bit of oil? – but it would need to be addressed after the test and before it led to a more chronic problem.

“They’ll fly,” Tel said, opening his eyes, and entered the next command sequence with his fingers. A slight change in the pitch of the whirring, and chaos butterflies pulled into formation to spin around the APPs like a ring around a planet. A few more gestures, and that was it, the pair of APPs lifting into the air to the excited clapping of Inonel.

“Yes!!” he whooped, and a pair of hands fell on Tel’s shoulders. “You’re a genius! A genius! Wait until I tell the others.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” Tel said, only partially paying attention to Inonel, the bulk of his focus on the gauntlet readings as the rest of the APPs systems came to life.

Tel ignored the voice, but didn’t do anything about the cracked open door in his mind. It did feel good. His heart was racing. Energy was sparking through his body from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. His senses were alive, soaking up every detail and piece of information. And his mind… his mind was on fire, putting it all together, measuring the limits of what the APPs could do.

“Condensed particle projectile launcher, operational,” he said. “Danger detection and automated evasive maneuver systems… operational, but below peak efficiency. Hrm. That will need some work. Condensed particle shield, operational. Particle eruption, operational.”

“What’s that last one?” Inonel asked. “I’ve read about the other ones, though I thought the automated evasive maneuver system was a joke.”

“Not at all,” Tel said, still evaluating the readings. “APPs are Eighth Generation. This evasive maneuver system was what led to the breakthrough that gave Reapers sentience in the Ninth Generation. Anyway, the particle eruption is a self-destruct. A last resort.”

“Wonderful, more things that explode,” Inonel said. “Don’t tell Count, he’ll just get jealous.”

“Uh, sure,” Tel said, finishing the assessment. All in all, the APPs were in good shape. Really good shape. “Test successful,” he said, his fingers tapping as the spheres settled back down on the workbench.

“That’s it?” Inonel asked. “Can’t we take them out for a spin. See those particle launchers in action? I’m sure we’ve got a few bottles around here or something we can set up…”

“Maybe after,” Tel answered, letting out a breath, taking off the gauntlets, and gently putting them beside the APPs.

“There is a small problem with this one’s flight system,” Tel said, tapping one of the spheres. “Let me fix that up before we push them. I’d hate for it to break because it fell out of the air,” he half-lied – it’d take a lot more than a short fall to disable one of these things. They’d been made to end the war with the sorcerers, and they almost had… until the Reapers came along a few years later.

“I guess that makes sense,” Inonel said, though there was disappointment in his voice. “But we’ve waited years to see these things, I guess I can wait a few more days.”

“Days?” Tel said, already sitting down and pulling his tools closer to the sphere. “I’ll have it fixed in twenty minutes.”

“What?! Twenty minutes, are you kidding?” Inonel asked as Tel unscrewed and pulled off one of the outer housing plates.

Yup, there’s the problem. If I just…

Tel turned his mind to the task at hand, Inonel and the voice in his head both quieting as he focused everything on the complex system in front of him. Gears of all shapes and sizes filled the sphere, some the traditional two-dimensional shape mixed with the more advanced three-dimensional gears. Similar to balls with dozens of notches, these gears acted as focal points for the interlocking systems, allowing the quick-change of functionality, and were held in place by the nearby gears that used them.

That one, that one right there was the problem. It wasn’t sitting properly, and that was throwing the whole system out of alignment. Hrm, the weight isn’t even. A little bit of filing here and here…

Tel’s hands deftly moved as he corrected the small imperfections in the gear, like a jeweller toiling on a priceless gem. The world, inside and out, everything except for the gear, vanished as he worked. One small motion removed excess weight while a second straightened an imperfect line, and Tel turned his attention to the surrounding system.

Made properly, with the gears fitting perfectly with each other, the system could run with little wear and tear for hundreds of hours. Maybe even thousands. This system had not been running perfectly, but it was okay – he’d caught it early enough.

He lost himself to the work, and when he came back out of it, it could’ve been seconds or hours later. A hand across his forehead wiped away a thin sheen of sweat, but his body was only starting to stiffen up. Minutes then, not hours.

Tel slipped the ball-like gear into its spot and replaced the outer housing plate as voices seeped into his ears. Wait, voices? Plural?

With the APP back in one piece – he’d test it shortly – he turned in his chair to find Inonel talking in hushed but excited whispers with two other Clocksmiths. Just talking about the APPs? No, the look on Inonel’s face wasn’t the same as before.

“What’s wrong?” Tel asked, and all three heads turned to look at him.

“Looks like he’s back,” one of the Clocksmiths said – What was his name? Right, Bilafel – and all three gave a small nod like they understood exactly what it was like to get lost in their work.

“Yeah, all fixed,” Tel said, thumbing over his shoulder.

“Good,” Bilafel said. “We might need it.”

“Need it? What for?” Tel asked, but his stomach was already dropping.

“Tailcoats,” Inonel said, licking his lips nervously, like his mouth was dry. “Tailcoats found a way into the enclave.”