Elmira

She caught sight of a sign with a peacock and a key. The patrons sang loudly inside in discordant harmonies. No one saw her as she slunk by.

A busy intersection and a fire barrel provided the perfect cover. With numb fingers, she dropped the note as flames leaped up hungrily. Taking the opportunity to defrost, she waited till there was nothing but ash left before she looked up and set to work.

Two dozen turns later, she turned into a cul-de-sac in the second quarter with a dirty, rusty shed at the very end that invited nothing but trouble and disappointment. Beyond it rose the defensive wall of the compound, the only thing truly permanent in this base as it circled to the south, east, and partway to the west, where it dropped off.

Thirty feet high wasn’t impressive by fortress standards, and there were parts of the wall that came nowhere close to that height, but it kept wildlife and beasts at bay whenever they were feeling peckish enough to haunt the plateau. It looked like the top half above the shed had been blown out, leaving a crumbling crater fifteen feet in the air. Knowing the proprietor of the establishment, it wasn’t an entirely improbable assumption either. But the interesting part wasn’t the perceived breach in the wall, but the rather well-kept smuggling tunnel one could find beneath it.

The rusted sign above the door depicted a crude rendition of a pair of symbols, meaning merchant and engineer-supreme, respectively. Welded together by scrap metal and shoe leather and left to fend off the elements on its own, it didn’t look like much to the world, as was the intention. A couple of lines etched into the door frame proved to the knowing eye that this was a place with no questions asked.

El let the door slam shut behind her.

“What?” a hoarse voice shouted. “I’m busy! Scram!”

“It’s me Noke!” she called out, taking in the room. “Get out here, you fucker! Ytir!”

Fa’enor, what in heaven’s name have you caused? Invoking the god of craft as if he could come fix the madness she faced. This was the very definition of chaos. Worse than the last time she’d stepped foot inside, which should not have been possible. The mess defied expectation and the natural laws of physics.

Crammed from floor to ceiling were boxes filled with identifiable and unidentifiable parts, materials, and metals covered with stains she had no desire to investigate. She had to dodge a partly disassembled industrial drill to get further into the room. It smelled faintly of sulfur, ozone, and charred iron along with the distinct scent of stale sweat and spilled gunpowder.

“I will start touching!” she called, trying to follow the sound of a hammer on metal.

When he didn’t respond, she grabbed a metallic casing and sent it flying into a pile of canisters that toppled over with a satisfying sound of breaking glass.

Nothing.

Odd. El walked further into the workshop, the daggers coming loose in their sheaths, heart beating a little faster.

Pieces of scrap and salvage littered the floor as well as the shelves. A bucket collecting water sat in a corner, filled to the brim and threatening to overflow. Towards the back wall, through which one could see the actual wall of the Base, tools had been hung up in five rows of leather toolbelts, which had been haphazardly bolted into the brick.

Below them stood a workbench that looked like it had once been someone’s dining table, covered with different shades of rusted steel nailed to the tabletop. With his back towards her, Noke, the equally ridiculous mechanic, stood hunched over his work with the sounds of metal against metal ringing out, followed by a loud hiss and a pillar of smoke swirling into the air.

Noke, a surprisingly gangly, pale green half-orc, ripped a pair of cracked goggles from his head with a surprised grunt before putting them back on.

“I said I’m busy!” he barked without looking at her.

“Not asking.”

He glanced over his shoulder with a grimace, the magnifying goggles making his green eyes look huge before he tugged them off. His brown hair stood up in all manner of angles, and parts of it were singed at the tips.

“What do you want?!” he growled. The flame from the torch in his grip was long enough to reach the slanted roof above the bench.

“I’ve got word you’ve a new toy in,” she lied, slouching against one of his other workbenches, eyeing a spinning toy made of what appeared to be bronze. “A transistor. Bor based. Functional.”

“Who told you something like that?” he asked after a moment’s hesitation.

It was all she needed. It’d be easy pickings today.

She smiled easily. “You know I can’t tell you.”

Again, he hesitated. “Well, I don’t,” he huffed.

While he hadn’t moved an inch, blowtorch working its way through the roof, his eyes flickered, his knuckles turned a slightly paler red. Telltale signs of a man lying through his teeth. He was like a hungry dog, waiting for a tossed bone that would be worth his time.

In truth, she believed he enjoyed this game of theirs as much as she did. For a moment, she wondered how long she could string him along. Maybe she’d play coy, and he’d cuss her out. Then he’d suggest an outlandish price, and they’d barter. It could go on and on for hours. But alas, time was of the essence. It was almost with a sense of sadness that she straightened her back and fixed him with a glare.

“Don’t lie to me, Noke. We both know how this here ends. I need the transistor, and you’re gonna give it to me. 20 gold.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

There was a definite hint of dark smoke in the air now, followed by the faint hiss of heat eating through metal.

“Get lost.”

She sighed. “Do we have to do this every time, or should I take my business to Arman?”

The mechanic guffawed. “You wouldn’t dare,” he grinned. “You like me too much.”

“Try again,” she said sweetly, tilting her head. “Pretty please.”

Her position didn’t shift much, yet it was no longer casual. “Jeez, alright, alright,” he grumbled.

The moron tossed the torch aside and shuffled into the back, muttering to himself. El bit back a curse and jumped to turn it off before it burned the whole place down. Well, burned it down more. One of the walls seemed to be far too blackened to be general decay. Letting out a deep breath, she pinched the bridge of her nose and counted to ten.

Noke was a talented mechanic, despite every sign to the contrary, and he kept his mouth shut. His tendency to turn a blind eye to the goings-on in camp made him a valuable asset, but the macho attitude grated on her frayed patience.

Every time she stepped foot in his workshop, he insulted her, demeaned her, or plain refused to do what she asked. He lied, squirmed, and cheated. She made a veiled threat, and he grumbled. Eventually, she’d get what she came for. He was reliable that way.

There was a loud crash from the back.

“You good in there?” she called. “Need a hand? Or an exterminator?”

“Be right there!” came the muffled reply. “Just gotta…”

The rest was drowned out by another series of troubling noises. She went to inspect the mess he’d been working with on the table. It was delicate work, beautiful even. It looked like it was becoming an autonomous dragonfly, complete with iridescent wings. Something about it seemed wrong, but she couldn’t put her finger on it until she’d inspected every detail and found nothing.

What bothered her wasn’t the sheer beauty created from such disorder, but that nothing inside her sparked at the sight. Worry clouded her. It wasn’t just the parts she had to scramble the plateau for. It wasn’t the cancellation of the supply ship. It wasn’t even Noke.

Certain rumors floating around set Base 19 vibrating with a strange trepidation, and it had thrown her off her game. Kollisi was in a sourer mood than usual, and people kept disappearing. Now he wanted a bor transistor. And if Kollisi said fetch, you fetched. Preferably yesterday.

Apparently yesterday, she thought, clenching her fist so tightly her nails dug into the palm of her hand. But why? What is the picture? Why can’t I see it?

It was so fragmented, it was brilliant. A perfect plan to throw off those who would seek to put an end to their efforts.

Noke, oblivious as always, came out grumbling about prices and inflation, and the rarity of metals. Followed by something unintelligible about his underground trade chain and a useless new thief that a business associate of his had hired the other week.

Throwing a glance at the now unstable, slow-burning roof, she returned to her original position.

“The lass has pipes for fingers and lead for feet, for fuck’s sake, did you know that-–”

“Noke, I need the transistor now, and it better be working,” she interrupted.

“Okay, okay,” he said. “Jeez. It’s over here. You’re no fun today.”

He shooed her out of the way, bending down to pull out a box hidden under the table. She fought the urge to clock him. Instead, she watched him spill out an impressive assortment of machinery he had no business owning onto the table, all in various states of disrepair. He held one such thing up in triumph.

“Aha! Here it is! Good as new. 45 gold”

“20, and if it was here all along, why the detour?” she asked with a voice dripping with honey, snatching the transistor out of his hands.

He swallowed hard but covered it with a half-shrug. “You know how it is, love.”

She made a strangled noise, turning her attention to the piece of pronged metal in her hands. To be fair, the transistor looked in good shape for this place. But something had shot a hole through the top, and Noke had repaired it with some patches and new wiring.

“Wanna tell me why you’re running around looking for a bor transistor when carborundum will do the job at half the cost? I couldn’t get rid of those fast enough for the amount I get. If you’re interested, I’m sure we can… work something out,” he said with a wink.

She ignored him. “Is it functional?”

He took it and peered at it, scratching at the patch and weighing it in his hand. “I’d say so,” he said, satisfied with his handiwork.

“It’ll do,” she said and smiled without a hint of mirth, holding out her hand.

Reluctantly, he gave it back, and she slipped it into her bag. He deftly slipped the coin into a hidden pocket.

“Let’s jive again sometime,” he grinned. “You’re one hell of a partner. Tell your employer hi from me. Noke’s the best in the biz.”

Hand on the door, El turned and gave him a thoughtful once-over with a look that made him pull a flustered hand through his hair.

“I will make sure General Kollisi knows exactly where this one came from,” she promised, unable to not laugh as his face turned whiter than snow inside a second.

As an afterthought, she pointed to the roof. “Mind your head.”

Noke’s fervent cursing beat out the rhythm of her step as she headed back into the maze. That mouth had an impressive range. Almost as good as her own.

Almost.