aside to give her room, eyeing Mari nervously and bowing as she passed, radiating resentment yet also acting more servile than commons usually did even in the Empire.
The buildings around her appeared grand enough, if you didn’t look too closely beyond the façades. Mari’s engineering specialty wasn’t architecture or construction, but she knew enough of both fields to judge the buildings around her. All of them boasted features intended to make them look grander, such as dozens of roof angles on a single structure, but the work was shoddy, with cracks and sagging easily visible. Mari wondered why the local Guild Hall hadn’t contracted the design and building of some truly impressive structures. That would have cost Ringhmon more money than these false fronts, though, and that might be all the answer she needed.
The crowds got thicker, so Mari set her jaw and plowed through them, the commons hastily clearing the way and keeping their grumbling just low enough that she couldn’t decipher it. She was used to that. Imperial citizens were particularly good at acting respectfully to the face of the Mechanics, who dictated even to the Emperor. But a quick enough turn would reveal the citizens at your back showing their true feelings.
Mari kept her face impassive so no trace of her own unhappiness could be seen. Mechanics were superior, they could fix and design and build things that the commons couldn’t. They used that power to dominate the commons everywhere. The commons helped, naturally. Whenever one group tried to rise up, another group could always be found willing to fight against them in exchange for some brief advantage. Hand out fifty rifles or so and enough ammunition, let the commons kill each other, and the Mechanics Guild remained in control. Since the Mechanics Guild liked that arrangement, it did everything it could to make sure nothing changed.
Century after century, the world kept unchanging.
If you were a Mechanic, if you were a cynic, if you liked that power, it was a great system.
Sweating in the heat, Mari paused at the top of a hill to catch her breath and gazed backwards to see the view. The afternoon was well along, the sun sinking toward a dust-hazed horizon that brought out a glory of red hues in the sky. Under that display, the “great” city of Ringhmon didn’t look quite as seedy. Far off, Mari could just make out the shape of a Mechanic locomotive belching smoke as it pulled into the city, coming from the west along the ancient rail line running to the Bakre Confederation. For a moment she wished she was on that locomotive, that she had never gone to the Guild academy but had just become a regular Mechanic on steam powered equipment. That she never noticed the looks on the faces of the commons when they didn’t think a Mechanic could see them. That she didn’t question the way things were and had always been.
That would have meant giving up, though, settling for less than her heart told her she should aim for.
Turning to continue on toward the Guild Hall, Mari froze in her tracks. A small group of riders wearing frighteningly familiar garments was riding up the street, their horses and clothes coated with dust. One of the riders carried a repeating rifle. Another was in the act of turning to look her way.
Chapter Six
Her heart pounding, Mari spun on one heel and dodged into the nearest shop. A few citizens of Ringhmon browsing among the racks of clothing pretended to be engrossed in their shopping as the owner came bustling up and bowed. “How may I help you, honored Lady Mechanic?”
Mari calmed herself before answering. “I just came in for a moment to get out of the sun.”
The owner backed away, head down to hide his expression. Mari turned and gazed out the small front window of the shop, searching for the bandits in the crowded street. Seeing nothing, she reached under her jacket toward her pistol, then cautiously edged to the door again.
The street held no sign of
The buildings around her appeared grand enough, if you didn’t look too closely beyond the façades. Mari’s engineering specialty wasn’t architecture or construction, but she knew enough of both fields to judge the buildings around her. All of them boasted features intended to make them look grander, such as dozens of roof angles on a single structure, but the work was shoddy, with cracks and sagging easily visible. Mari wondered why the local Guild Hall hadn’t contracted the design and building of some truly impressive structures. That would have cost Ringhmon more money than these false fronts, though, and that might be all the answer she needed.
The crowds got thicker, so Mari set her jaw and plowed through them, the commons hastily clearing the way and keeping their grumbling just low enough that she couldn’t decipher it. She was used to that. Imperial citizens were particularly good at acting respectfully to the face of the Mechanics, who dictated even to the Emperor. But a quick enough turn would reveal the citizens at your back showing their true feelings.
Mari kept her face impassive so no trace of her own unhappiness could be seen. Mechanics were superior, they could fix and design and build things that the commons couldn’t. They used that power to dominate the commons everywhere. The commons helped, naturally. Whenever one group tried to rise up, another group could always be found willing to fight against them in exchange for some brief advantage. Hand out fifty rifles or so and enough ammunition, let the commons kill each other, and the Mechanics Guild remained in control. Since the Mechanics Guild liked that arrangement, it did everything it could to make sure nothing changed.
Century after century, the world kept unchanging.
If you were a Mechanic, if you were a cynic, if you liked that power, it was a great system.
Sweating in the heat, Mari paused at the top of a hill to catch her breath and gazed backwards to see the view. The afternoon was well along, the sun sinking toward a dust-hazed horizon that brought out a glory of red hues in the sky. Under that display, the “great” city of Ringhmon didn’t look quite as seedy. Far off, Mari could just make out the shape of a Mechanic locomotive belching smoke as it pulled into the city, coming from the west along the ancient rail line running to the Bakre Confederation. For a moment she wished she was on that locomotive, that she had never gone to the Guild academy but had just become a regular Mechanic on steam powered equipment. That she never noticed the looks on the faces of the commons when they didn’t think a Mechanic could see them. That she didn’t question the way things were and had always been.
That would have meant giving up, though, settling for less than her heart told her she should aim for.
Turning to continue on toward the Guild Hall, Mari froze in her tracks. A small group of riders wearing frighteningly familiar garments was riding up the street, their horses and clothes coated with dust. One of the riders carried a repeating rifle. Another was in the act of turning to look her way.
Chapter Six
Her heart pounding, Mari spun on one heel and dodged into the nearest shop. A few citizens of Ringhmon browsing among the racks of clothing pretended to be engrossed in their shopping as the owner came bustling up and bowed. “How may I help you, honored Lady Mechanic?”
Mari calmed herself before answering. “I just came in for a moment to get out of the sun.”
The owner backed away, head down to hide his expression. Mari turned and gazed out the small front window of the shop, searching for the bandits in the crowded street. Seeing nothing, she reached under her jacket toward her pistol, then cautiously edged to the door again.
The street held no sign of
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