Trailblazer

by Zen DiPietro

  “Well, all right, then. Thanks.” He accepted the bag and opened it. “I’ll return the favor sometime.”

  Was that an actual promise, or was it just something that people said? Not knowing for sure, Sally just nodded and turned her attention to her book.

  “What stop are you going to?” he asked.

  “Bracket.”

  “End of the line. Long trip. I’m going to Lazy Susan, so I’ll be getting off at the stop right before yours.”

  Why was he telling her this? Was he just making conversation? Did he expect her to remark on his destination? How should she handle his friendliness? She hadn’t been prepared for it.

  But she supposed she’d started it by giving him the churros.

  She’d try her best. Given her history with adventurers and how often they’d treated her badly in the past, she had reservations about trusting any of them. Other than Essley and Darthrok, of course. Rex was a thug and had a rough edge to him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be a friend, at least for a few hours.

  What trouble could happen on board a train, anyway?

  Rex arched an eyebrow and smiled at her. It was a particular kind of smile that gave her a feeling that a lot of trouble could be found anywhere, if the right person came along.

  “Ever think about robbing a train?” she asked.

  His smile grew. “What did you have in mind? Whatever it is, I’m in.”

  Sally laughed. “Just asking.”

  He nodded, still smiling. “All right, fair enough. But if you think of something, let me know.”

  “You like adventure?”

  “Sure, what else is there? Isn’t that why we’re all here? Even you technies and the scholar types, everyone’s looking for the kind of adventure they find fun, right?”

  Sally turned her book sideways on her lap and rested her hands on it. “Everyone’s looking for something here.”

  “Exactly,” he said a little too loudly, causing a few people to glance over. He paid them no mind. “It’s like, if Reallife had everything we wanted already, we wouldn’t be spending our time here. So we’re looking for what can only be found in this place.”

  He was from Reallife, like Essley and Darthrok? What a coincidence. She wondered if they knew him.

  “I’ve never been to Reallife,” she admitted. “I’ve been too busy so far.”

  He laughed, showing two rows of big, even teeth. “Hardcore role player, huh? That’s cool. I try to stay in character, but then I start running my mouth and my brain doesn’t always keep up.”

  He must be saying things that only other thugs would understand. She smiled politely. She hadn’t spent much time with adventurers, and so far, he believed that she was a regular adventurer like him. She didn’t want to mess that up.

  “So what are you going to do in Bracket?” he asked. “Are there some parts you have to buy for making stuff?”

  “Something like that,” she agreed. “What about you?”

  “I’ve got some stuff stored in a locker in Lazy Susan, and a buddy wants to buy it. I’ll probably hunt while I’m there, too, because why not?”

  “Got to keep the learning going,” she said.

  “Exactly. Do you get ranks for reading books like that?” He eyed the one in her lap.

  “A little. It used to be more but it’s harder to advance now.”

  He made a sound that was remarkably like that of a large steam engine. “It’s like that, isn’t it? Grind, grind, grind. Isn’t much different than Reallife, is it?” He grimaced. “Sorry. There I go again. Ignore that. What I mean is, if it’s all just work anyway, why bother? I’ve been thinking of taking a break from all this. That’s why I’m selling off some of my stuff. I mean, if it isn’t fun anymore, what’s the point, right?”

  Reallife sounded like a bummer. No wonder people left it. Maybe she didn’t want to visit it, after all. He sounded like he wanted her to agree with him about the futility of his life, but she couldn’t.

  “Maybe don’t grind, if you don’t like it,” she said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “If it’s not fun and you don’t like it, then do something else. Find your own type of fun.”

  His lips pressed together, and his big personality seemed to dial itself down as he grew serious. “What do you find fun, Sally Strong?”

  It was a good question.

  “I like new things. I like friends. I like laughing and growing. Those are the best.”

  “So maybe if I stop working my ranks all the time and ease off the leveling, I could…what? What would I do?”

  “You have friends?” she asked.

  “Yeah. I mean, they’d gut me to steal from me if they could, but we hang out.”

  “Sounds like not good friends,” she observed. “My friends make me happy.”

  “Well,” he said, “I do tend to hang out with ratfinks and schmucks.”

  Sally brightened. These were new words. She resolved to try them out in the near future in regard to people who were up to no good. “Find new friends. You’ll be happier.”

  “Maybe you’re right.” He looked at her, apparently in deep contemplation. “Maybe I’m hanging with the wrong crowd. But, let’s be real. Look at me. You think people like that would make friends with a guy like me? I’m a thug.”

  Sally shrugged. She saw nothing wrong with him. So he was big and brawny. There was nothing wrong with him. He looked like a thug, sure, but he also had tons of Easterner charisma. Everything about him was big and bright and filled the room, from his laugh to his big smile to how very thoughtful he looked when he got serious. “You’re as worthy as anyone else.”

  “Am I?” he leaned forward, his gaze intent on her. He extended his left hand slowly, toward the book on her lap. He put a finger on the corner of the book. “Are you saying you’re not afraid of me right now?”

  She returned his gaze, unflinching. “No. You don’t scare me.”

  “Why not? I should.”

  “You like churros, like I do. You have a nice smile. You’re looking for something, like me. I’m looking, too. Everyone’s looking. Why would you scare me?”

  “Have you assessed me?” he asked.

  She assessed him.

  Rex

  Adventurer

  Unlawful Neutral

  Level Sixty-two

  Profession: Entrepreneur

  Specialty: Thug

  Rex is carrying six platinum coins.

  Rex has nine hundred and twenty-eight platinum, sixty-seven gold, forty-eight silver, and two copper in electronic funds.

  Rex is a formidable adversary, but not a concern for you.

  Rex’s karma is bad.

  Rex reminds you of a lost puppy.

  She smiled. “Have you assessed me?”

  “What?”

  She kept smiling, and he narrowed his eyes, looking at her with increased intensity.

  “Hang on,” he said. “You could pound me into the dirt? What? How? You gonna beat me with your screwdriver?”

  Sally grinned. “If I have to. But I’m better at taking things apart, piece by piece, from their foundation.”

  Holy gasket, that sounded so cool! She’d gotten every word out just right, without slipping on any of the vowels.

  For the first time since she met him, Rex looked uncertain. “Who are you?”

  “Not sure yet,” she admitted. “I’m figuring it out.”

  “Maybe I should stick around a little bit,” he mused. “Are you married, Sally?”

  “To my screwdriver. Don’t get ideas.”

  He laughed. “Fair enough, fair enough. Okay. So, how do you feel about having some company in Bracket?”

  She looked at him curiously.

  “Nothing weird,” he showed his palms. “Friend-zone is fine with me, so long as we both know it. I just…” he hesitated, again showing an uncertainty that she sensed was unusual for him. “This is the most fun I’ve had for as long as I can remember, and we haven’t d
one anything but eat snacks and talk.”

  He shrugged helplessly.

  “Okay,” she said. “Come with me. You can help.”

  “Help with what? I don’t know anything about...you know, electricity or that kind of stuff.” He looked embarrassed. “All I do is smash things.”

  She smiled. “Sometimes, a smash works best.”

  “Hang on,” Rex said.

  Sally paused, adjusting her backpack so it settled more comfortably on her back. “Yes?”

  “There’s a clicker swarm at that old wreck. The higher your rank, the more they spawn.” Rex frowned at the factory in the distance. “Nobody goes inside. Well, at least, they don’t go there twice.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s a trap!” he said. “No matter how good you are, the clickers will engage you, keep you from leaving, then swarm and kill you, one hit point at a time. It’s a known kill point. The more people you bring, the more clickers that spawn. And there’s no reason to even go in there. That factory’s worthless. Nothing at all valuable inside. You just die for no reason.”

  His ignorance made her sad.

  “What’s inside is all pieces,” she explained. “Pieces that aren’t valuable alone. But together…” She snapped her fingers. “Together, it’s treasure.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked. “How’s that disaster zone a treasure?”

  Even if Sally had the words to explain it to him, she wouldn’t. The factory was too important to her. The fact that she’d even brought him seemed crazy, but she felt like this challenge would matter to him. He’d implied that he wasn’t having any fun anymore, which was sad.

  His help would also improve her chances of success.

  “It’s a puzzle,” she explained. “A quest. It’s meant to be solved.”

  He sighed. “I never heard about any quest here. Just a bunch of slow, stupid death.”

  She smiled at him. “First time solve. You’ll get lots of experience.”

  He narrowed his eyes, and a hint of smile appeared. “Don’t you sweet talk me, now.”

  “So much experience,” she reiterated. “And you can have it all. I just want the factory.”

  “Who are you?”

  She stiffened. “What?”

  “You’re like, super wise sometimes, but the way you talk is kind of unusual sometimes. And now you’re a technie kamikaze or something. I don’t know what to do with all that.”

  She squinted at him. “What?”

  “Nothing.” His shoulders slumped, then he straightened. “Fine. Whatever. I’ve died for dumber reasons. Let’s do it.”

  She held up her fist and stretched it toward him. “Yeah!”

  Shaking his head, he gave her a fist-bump.

  “What do I do?” he asked.

  “Tank it up.” She pointed at the front entrance to the factory. “Go there, get aggro. Keep doing that.”

  “And what will you be doing?”

  She shrugged off one strap of her backpack to slide it sideways and reach into it. She pulled out the device she’d taken, plus the cotter pin, and inserted it. It lit up from within. She held it out for him and said, “Storming the castle.”

  She’d heard Darthrok say the phrase once, and she’d liked it, and practiced it, just in case she ever had a chance to use it.

  Woohoo! Objective achieved. She put the device back and re-secured her pack.

  His face showed surprise. “Oh, hey, you’re about to go full mad scientist, aren’t you? Dang, I didn’t know you guys did that.”

  “Maybe we don’t usually,” she said, “but I’m going to.”

  “All right, Sally girl, let’s see what happens.” He pulled a long, massively-heavy looking sword from its sheath.

  He waded in, and as soon as he reached the entrance, a flood of clickers rushed out, stopping him from entering. He began chipping away at the little mechies, and Sally ran to the back side of the factory. She scanned the outside, then her eye caught on what she needed.

  There! A service ladder. All those skylight windows had needed to be cleaned at some point, or even replaced if one cracked. From her backpack, she retrieved a long, telescoping reaching pole with a hook at the end. James had used them in his store to reach merchandise that was displayed high, and Sally had thought the tool might come in handy someday.

  Today was that day!

  She extended the pole to its full length, glanced around for clickers, then reached for the ladder.

  Miss! The pole swished by the ladder, hit the side of the building, and began a fast slide down to the ground. She hadn’t planned for how unwieldy the pole would be at full length. She tried again. Miss.

  On the third try, she hooked the ladder and pulled it down. Yes!

  After collapsing the reaching hook and returning it to her backpack, she climbed.

  No clickers so far, which was good.

  Stepping up onto the roof, she looked around again. Anything?

  No. Her theory that clickers could only walk on the ground was holding up, so far. As long as she didn’t step on the ground, she shouldn’t get mobbed by them.

  She hoped.

  She also hoped Rex was doing okay, but she didn’t want to use the communicator and risk distracting him.

  Okay, there had to be a way into the factory from the roof. An access hatch, something. She hurried along, looking for easy access. If she needed to, she could break a window in the skylight, but that would be a shame and difficult to replace.

  Just when the window-breaking method was looking more and more likely, she saw an air intake vent.

  Yes!

  With the screwdriver Rex had made fun of, she quickly opened the vent and peered inside.

  “Yuck!”

  Darkness and many layers of dust. Well, she’d prepared for that, too, by changing into her current, entirely fashion-free outfit. The long-sleeved top and long pants had no zippers or catches, and looked like something that people should only ever sleep in, if that.

  But it would work well for this task and keep her good clothes from getting ruined.

  Sally flipped her goggles down and settled them over her eyes, then flipped to the illumination lenses. They were a poor substitute for a torchlight because they didn’t project straight ahead, but she’d decided to use them to keep her hands free. This would be good enough to get her through some ductwork.

  Twenty minutes later, coughing and brushing her hand over her goggles to clear them of dust, a bit of doubt crept in. But after another five minutes of belly-crawling and regretting her decisions, she regretted them even more when a steep decline sent her sliding on her belly to who-knows-where.

  Some things only seemed like a good idea before actually doing them.

  Then she found another grate.

  She removed this one even faster than the first, then poked her head out. She was inside the factory, but about halfway up the wall, which put her a good twenty feet from the ground.

  That was okay. She had no intention of touching the ground. Yet. She had small goals to accomplish before she could achieve the main objective.

  One thing at a time.

  She hoped Rex was okay. Getting him killed on the day they met probably wasn’t a good way to start a friendship.

  After pulling a large, folded square of fabric from her pack, she carefully unrolled a brief length of it, tied it around a sturdy pipe, and pushed the rest of the fabric out into the factory. It fell, unfolding as it went, until it hung in a long, straight line.

  She hadn’t been confident in her ability to slide down a rope. But she’d studied the mechanics of aerial silks, and was confident that she could manage to make her way down one of them. She’d practiced the foot locks in her store, and was pretty sure she could do this.

  Turning around to lie on her belly, she edged backward, dangling her feet out of the opening, then continued until she could bend at the waist. This was the tricky bit. Blindly, she reached for the silk with her feet, found it, and wra
pped it around her foot so that she’d have a solid hold.

  She took a breath. Moment of truth.

  Grasping the top of the cloth, she shifted her weight to her silk-wrapped foot.

  She now dangled twenty feet above the factory, suspended in cloth by one foot. She couldn’t wait to tell Darthrok and Essley about this.

  While bending at the knee, she used her other foot to reach down and flip the fabric around her ankle, her heel, then across her forefoot, which gave her a solid lock. She shifted her weight to that foot. Nice! Now, about fifteen more times, and she’d be done.

  Her arms ached with the unexpected stress, even though her legs were doing most of the work. She tried to ignore the discomfort as she descended foot by foot. By the time she made the last motion, her arms were shaking, but she didn’t want to drop down because she wasn’t sure how strong the worktable below was. She could just imagine crashing down on it, having it break, falling to the floor, and getting swarmed by clickers.

  Better to avoid that.

  At last, she got one foot on the table, and kicked the fabric off her second foot so she could stand solidly on two feet.

  Her arms hated her. A lot.

  But she’d done it! She’d made it into the factory, and by not touching the floor, she hadn’t inadvertently summoned any mechies.

  She looked up at the long swathe of fabric dangling down into the factory. It would be tricky getting that back down, but she’d think about that later.

  From her current spot, she needed to make three good leaps to get to her destination. A loud noise outside caught her attention. Rex? She should probably hurry.

  Given the leg placement of these tables and their weight distribution, she could only go halfway beyond the center to the farther edge to gain momentum. If she moved further back, the table would likely fall over.

  Okay. One big step, then a leap to the next table. She could do this.

  Careful not to step too far to either side of the table, she stepped back, then launched herself forward.

  Too close to the edge! She stumbled forward, trying to direct the bulk of her weight toward the center of the table. It tipped slightly, but settled with her kneeling in the center, her heart pounding.

  Success! She just had to do the same thing two more times.