Chapter 11: Chapter 7: Steam

Day 4 - Afternoon

*bochu* *shuchi* *fshsh* *bochu* *shuchi*

Massive boilers, huge reservoirs, giant flywheels, crankshafts, pipes, pipes and more pipes fill the chamber taking up most of the Discovery’s aftcastle. The ceiling is a good twenty feet up. About forty feet across and forty deep.

The sound of the two main propellers, that can be heard throughout much of the ship, is obliterated here by the teeth rattling thump of steam engines.

Tons of black iron and orange copper fill my sight. The air is sweltering and full of dust. Smells of burning coal, hot metal and grease. Everything is tinted orange by the flames. The few windows create beams of light through the shadowy space

Crewmen shovel coal while engineers monitor gauges mounted across the engine. Turning knobs and pulling levers in some alien pattern. Like a choreographed dance to worship a dark machine god.

And the bishop of this machine religion is one uncle of House Heaton. Waving his arms about and pointing every which way. Showing off his faith to me. Though for this sermon he has to shout to be heard.

“There is the firebox where the coal and orgon are burned to produce heat and mana!” The Mark Twain looking geezer has his big leather gloves and apron on again. With goggles too this time. “The heat and mana rises into the boiler which is filled with water!” Points at the tanks above them. "Transforming into infused steam!"

"Traveling through those pipes into the cylinders and pistons!" Spinning his arm like a lunatic. "That energy turning the wheels and crankshafts for the propellers!" Lifting his arms to the pipes above. "And through these infused steam is distributed to other propellers and machinery!"

Sam's uncle looks happier than a senior citizen winning bingo night.

"Before returning, defused, through condensers and radiators!" Stomps on the floor. "Hundreds of tons of coal and tons of orgon are carried in the bunkers! Giving the Discovery thousands of miles in range!"

Yeah, he looks a bit too excited. Wondering if he's going to have a heart attack.

"The latest double expansion cylinders and exhaust diffusers are used! Increasing efficiency and lowering visibility!" Or spooge on himself. "The Discovery is the most advanced airship in the continent!"

In comparison, my nano me’s are acting like Luke Skywalker the first time he saw the Millennium Falcon. "What a piece of junk!" And I'm only partly paying attention because of last night's log.

[Vertical Outercourse use detected, subskill experience added]
[Ventral Horizontal Intercourse use detected, subskill experience added]
[Dorsal Vertical Intercourse use detected, subskill experience added]
[Dorsal Outercourse use detected, subskill experience added]
…

Yeah, this system has a log where old notifications are saved. I'm scrolling through message after message. Lots of "subskill" experience was awarded. Even got another race level out of it.

But, uh, ventral horizontal? Hmm… mating press? Dorsal vertical? Uh… Doggie? Pretzel? What the fuck is dorsal outercourse? Flipper sex?

Remember the various positions from last night. Trying to fit them to the "skills" they triggered. But I'm not having much luck. Still, thanks for all the xp, sweet Caroline.

Without even touching the engine my eyes pick out potential improvements. Use a different metal here. Shorten a pipe there. Weld instead of rivet in that area. Use active airflow on that condenser instead of passive.

My itty bitties may not be geniuses. But they sure as hell know how to analyze and improve. Which may be rubbing off a bit on me too.

*wave* *point*

Apparently giving up on trying to outloud a titanic steam engine. Lady in red’s uncle gets my attention and points to the hatch we came in. I follow him back out into the short corridor leading to the main deck. The noise drops dramatically when the thick door clangs shut.

“Gods damn!” Lord Jonas Heaton is still wound up. “There is nothing quite like a proper triumph of science over your gobbledygook. No personal offense intended.” 

Eh?

He motions me to a side door in the passage.

“Gobbledygook?”

Geezer nods as he opens the door and motions me inside.

“Indeed, good sir. Oh I admit that before the Great Seer, the arcane classes were dominant. However, after?" A white toothed grin as he uses a cloth to wipe his coal dusted face. "The rise of the machine trades was a manifest destiny."

I accept the fresh towel he hands me and begin cleaning the coal dust off me while looking around the room.

"Nice, uh, laboratory?"

For a mad scientist. It's filled with all sorts of doohickeys. Bits and bobs spinning and twirling. Little lights blinking. Flasks bubbling. There's even a tesla coil looking thing shooting electricity around.

"Thank you! Since leaving the royal academy, I've been able to broaden my scientific skills. Reach further into the mysteries of the world." Taps the side of his nose. "And the gods."

"Can you explain the destiny thing?" Shrug. "I really don’t know what you're talking about."

His eyes get big.

"Ah! Dear me, my apologies. I forget you are here by accident." What's with the wink? "So the gods did not prepare you." Sits on a stool next to a rotating gizmo and points at another stool for me. "Some five centuries ago, the gods sent us the Great Seer." A brooding look. "It was a dark time for humanity."

"How?"

A sad smile.

"The arcane classes dominated the known world. Leaving the rest of us as little more than slaves." Fist clenches before he startles himself again. "Foolish me, you may not know what that means either."

He gathers his thoughts before continuing.

"Upon reaching adulthood, the gods bless each member of the intelligent races with a class. Like skills have subskills. Each class is part of a field." Rolling his hands. "Depending on how they use mana. The arcane field has spellcraft to use mana. A far more potent, if more difficult, way compared to other fields."

I nod.

"So they became tyrants."

"Indeed. The difficulty in mastering spellcraft kept others from rivaling or adding the arcanes." Raises a fist. "Until the coming of the Great Seer!"

"And what'd he do?"

"The otherworlder spread the knowledge of science. Showed the uses of orgon and saltpeter. Created the first machine classes and taught techcraft." Touches three points on his chest. "Bless the gods."

Now that sounds off to me.

"The gods?"

"Yes, of course the divine classes like to minimize the Great Seer's importance." Scoffs. "Yet everyone knows their hesitancy stems from jealousy."

Yeah, from what I recall, religion and science don't always get along.

"Jealousy?"

Geezer's turn to nod.

"Indubitably. The divine's praycraft was the second strongest mana system after spellcraft. So they resented and resisted the machine's ascension." Chuckles. "However, they were powerless. The world engine's adoption of techcraft made the gods' blessing undisputable!"

Okay…

"So what happened to the arcanes?"

Uncle raises his hands.

"The same thing that happens to all tyrants." A fire in his eyes. "Revolution!" Is there a defibrillator nearby? "Within a century, all of the arcane dynasties had been toppled." Smirks. "And without their support and spellcraft's difficulty? Soon the field was extinct."

Think I get it.

"So the machine dynasties are in charge now."

Shakes his head.

"Untrue. That is the beauty of the Great Seer's gift." Raises one hand. "Spellcraft creates spells that can only really be used by arcane classes." Raises the other hand. "Praycraft discovers prayers that are, by far, best used through divine classes." Spreads his arms wide. "Techcraft builds machines that can be used by everyone!"

I'm looking doubtful. 

"Everyone?"

Enthusiastic nodding.

"Everyone." Picks up a little model. "Farmers use our tractors to tend their fields. Soldiers use our muskets to defend the kingdom. Wives use our stoves to cook dinner." Slaps the tabletop. "Workers even use our machines to build other machines! An egalitarian utopia."

Yeah, sorry dude, but egalitarian would mean you nobles wouldn't be treated like bosses by everybody. So I'm gonna have to call bullshit on that.

Scratch my chin.

"So no one casts spells anymore?"

Lord Jonas's head tilts side to side. Shaking his gray Twainian beard and hair.

"Well, there are the mage classes." Rolls a hand. "They also use spellcraft but a far weaker version. Because of this some refer to it as magecraft instead."

Damn, the old guy has been really helpful. Guess there's just one more thing.

"So how did you know my class is arcane?"

"Deduction, my good sir." Raises a finger. "I have been preparing a paper on the arcane field. A view on the field's rise and fall referencing new discoveries." Laughs. "And one cannot properly discuss the arcane without noting its birthplace, Elannias."

Frown.

"Okay, ya lost me again. What's Elannias?"

He grins. This guy really likes to explain things.

"Until the Great Seer, Elannias was the mightiest empire in the world. Its island heartland had mastered spellcraft to such a degree, that they even had floating cities." A look of wonder on his face. "The known world was dominated by them."

"And what does that have to do with technomancer?"

Pats me on a shoulder.

"That is where your class was born."

Born?

"You lost me again."

A lightbulb goes off over Geezer's head.

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"Ah! Forgive me again. Even the Great Seer came from a place without gods gift but I forget it's possible." Thinking man pose. "If someone applies their mana system uniquely enough. The world engine may recognize the achievement and birth a new class around it."

Oh. Huh. Man, this world's system is not like what I remember from web novels

"And they created the technomancer too…"

"Yes, exactly." Eh? "The Elannians wanted to use spellcraft to build machines that anyone could use."

Interesting, that's actually kinda smart. 

"So what happened?"

Lord Jonas gives me a weird look.

"Nothing, of course. Elannias sank soon after."

"Sank?"

Uncle Slaps his forehead.

"Ah. Apologies again." Spreads his hands. "No one knows exactly what happened. However, the church claims the Ellannian arcane dynasty cast a massive spell. Aimed at changing the world engine." Hands make explosion. "As punishment the gods sunk the entire island."

I see. So this is their version of Atlantis, Numenor, etc…

"Then how does anyone know about technomancers?"

Seriously, if the whole fucking island sank then-

"Some other dynasties were aware of the Elannians' plans. And while millions died. Millions also survived. Some were aware of the dynasties experiments." Holds up a notepad in a leather binder. "What is written cannot be lost. Only forgotten, awaiting rediscovery."

He sets down the notebook and fondly pats it before continuing. 

"So when the auguries identified your class? It sounded familiar and I reviewed my notes." Motions to me. "Though, of course, you already knew your field."

"Uh, no I didn't."

Geezer facepalms.

"Forgive me. Since you were not brought by the gods. Then naturally no one will have instructed you on using the world engine." Sighs. "House Heaton will arrange a tutor after we return." Nods to himself. "In the meantime bring up your personal screen and concentrate on the class."

Okay…

After bringing up my stats page I focus on class.

*ding*

A new screen pops.

[Primary Class: Technomancer | Field: Arcane]
[Secondary Class: None | Field: None]

Sweet, never noticed that before. I really can get a secondary class too. But isn't this also a bad thing?

"Doesn't everyone hate arcane classes?"

Uncle squints at me.

"Why would you think that? They're extinct. You may be the only arcane class wielder in the world." Waves his hand. "Besides, most will assume you are a machine class with that title. And auguries have a hard enough time seeing your main information. Getting detailed-"

*buzz* *buzz* *buzz*

A beeping interrupts the old guy. One of his doodads is acting up. Printing out a long piece of ticker tape while a light blinks. Alarmed, he dashes over. Starts reading the paper and talking to himself. 

"Dungeon break? No… different. Is this? Already? How?"

Next he rushes over to a cluster of tubes with lids on them. After hitting the lid a few times with a little hammer he takes it off and starts yelling into the tube.

“Bridge! Lord Heaton! Respond!”

A few seconds pass before a faint metallic voice comes back.

“Lord Heaton. This is First Officer Westley. How may I assist?”

Wasting no time Geezer yells back.

“Manoptics are off the charts! Something is happening at the dungeon! Sound general quarters!”

Seconds tick by again before.

“Confirm general quarters, aye.”

*bing* *bing* *bing*

Before the voice finishes I can hear a bell begin ringing from multiple directions. And see the scramble on the main deck from the laboratory’s windows.

*tang* *tang* *tang*

A sound from another tube which uncle then takes the lid off of.

“Uncle? Samantha. Respond.”

He yells back into it.

“Dungeon under attack! Who? Unknown! Danger? Unknown!”

A little later.

“Understood. Meet at bridge.”

Old guy puts the lid back on and reads the ticker tape again before turning to me. The gadget’s still buzzing and printing.

“Please come with me, Mr Barton. Would appear another party is trying to collapse the dungeon we came all this way for.”

Following the old dude out we rush across the buzy main deck and up the outside stairs to the sixth forward deck. Down another hallway to enter the bridge, we then go up another set of stairs to reach the lady in red, captain, and others standing around a map table.

Oodles of brass and glass surround us. Some stations are down on the sixth floor. But most are sitting on top of the sixth. The many windows provide an over one eighty degree view. Stairs at the back lead up into the lift bag itself.

Geezer is huffing and puffing a bit from our run as Sam begins questioning him.

“Uncle, what do you know?”

He leans on the table and explains.

“Sadly not as much as I would prefer, dear niece.” Points at a spot on the map. “Fifteen minutes ago the readings from the dungeon changed drastically. At first I believed it was a dungeon break. However, the readings are too erratic. Amount of mana being eaten swinging wildly.” Stares levelly at Lady Heaton. “I believe someone or something is attacking the portal. Attempting to collapse it.”

Captain Wyverstone looks incredulous.

“Your lordship, is that even possible? I have never heard of closing a dungeon by attacking its entrance before. As the guild understands, over-clearing or core-breaking are the only ways to do it.”

Uncle begins to respond but is interrupted by distant thunder.

*boom* *boom*

Red uniform guy, pretend Lieutenant Maycock, comments.

“Tunder? But tere’s not a cloud in ta sky.”

Blue officer uniformed Westley replies.

“That is not thunder, lieutenant. That is cannon fire. From very large guns.”

The navigator, Dorothy Kettle speaks up.

“We are entering the valley. Should be able to see the dungeon… now?”

Our airship comes around a mountain to see a wide gap in the range. Like a god crushed a straight path through the rocks a mile wide and stretching over the horizon.

A couple of miles away my enhanced eyes can see a giant hole in the side of a peak. Hundreds of feet tall and wide. Inside is a completely different landscape. Though I cannot see much from this angle.

“It really is a portal.” I mumble. Which is completely different from what dungeons are in medieval land.

The entrance seems to be wobbling quite a bit though. Rippling unsteadily along the edges. And the cause is pretty damn visible in the drooping sun.

An airship twice our size floats midway between us and the dimension gate. 

While this airship is a boat shaped hull under a cigar shaped balloon.  What I see about a mile away is just a cigar shaped balloon. Well, sort of. All white, its prow looks pointed and reinforced. Instead of the hull being separate, it seems combined. Superstructure can be seen along the top and bottom of the lift bag. Everything, even the lift bag itself, seems to be armored.

But that’s not the worst sight.  The worst is the obvious as day fucking turrets attached to that superstructure. Two very big ones are mounted at the top and bottom near the bow. But at least a dozen smaller ones are spread across it.

All in all? Looks kinda like an…

“Ironclad?”

Lady in red turns to me and says.

“What did you say?”

I’m not really paying attention to her right now though. What I am paying attention to is the big fucking turret slowly turning our way.

Channel my inner Sherlock. 

“Time to get the fuck outta dodge.”

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