Chapter 9: The Tech Hunters

  “How. Much. Longer,” Shryke paused to catch her breath, “do we have to keep climbing this damned mountain?”

  Frelka laughed hard, flexing his muscles. “What? Are you tired? Does Shryke need to take another rest, ja? Maybe this ‘ox’ needs to carry you the rest of the way in addition to your pack?”

  A rock smacked him square in the chest. “Shut up, you big…mountain…” Shryke finished weakly.

  Beep laughed. “It’s okay, Shryke, this climb is hard. Beep is tired too. Very tired.”

  “Well, I should hope so,” she answered. “This is technically your second time up the fucking thing. You can bet your ass if I had been sent to scout up this mountain for World’s End, and found it, you would’ve had to wait until some traveler made the trip down to hear about it, because I would have stayed up there.”

  Beep gasped. “That was an option?!”

  “Come now, Beep,” Burn said in his monotone voice, “would it have made any difference if you had known it was?”

  Burn had a set of plate armor on him when they recruited him. It was good enough to cover his gears and protect his inner workings, but he had had no weapon. Thankfully, Shryke had packed her old glaive with her before they left Mongrel. It was this glaive that Burn now used as a walking stick as he passed Shryke on the path.

  “Hey, rust bucket,” Shryke said, “watch how you treat her, yeah? If you break it before we even get in a fight, you’ll be using your fists to defend yourself.”

  Burn gave a slight look back toward Shryke and nodded before continuing on the path, walking stick in hand.

  It had been a few days since they left Moll’s camp, and overall, those days were probably the easiest Frelka had had since he first entered the fog. Moll had been kind enough to give them some food to restock their supplies, and they had been blessed with fair weather during their trip. Their nights were spent on peaceful plains in this region of Kenshi, known as the Arm of Okran.

  Though, Frelka reflected, I guess it’s not too curious that we’d have peaceful nights in land under Holy Nation control. Despite their prejudice and oppression, they did keep their lands safe.

  That being said, they still had to be on the lookout for Holy Nation scouting parties, but if there were any patrols this far north, Frelka hadn’t seen them.

  It was another thirty minutes of hiking before the steep slope of the path that wound up the large mountain to World’s End finally lessened its incline and began to level off. Finally, the four of them stood in front of the gate, huffing and puffing, but at their destination at last.

  He heard a disgusted groan come from Shryke. As he stood up straight, Frelka saw what she was looking at. Flanking either side of the main gate into World’s End were large, twenty-foot-tall statues of the Phoenix King, his arms upturned in supplication.

  He heard Beep swallow hard behind him. “Moll did say they were very convincing to the Holy Nation. Let us hope this is part of that deception, yes?”

  Shryke rolled her eyes. “Well,” she said, looking at the group of men in plate armor standing guard at the gate, “they’re not Paladins, so I’m going to hope that’s the case.”

  “So,” Frelka began, his voice hesitant, “what should we do first?”

  “Drink!” Shryke responded, grabbing her pack from Frelka’s shoulder and walking to the guard to find the location of the nearest bar.

  “Beep is thirsty too!”

  Burn looked to Frelka. “Would you like some company while you explore? Or would you like to accompany the others to the bar?”

  Frelka stared at the two walking toward one of the buildings with a sign made of scavenged metal that read “BAR.” He certainly wouldn’t have minded a drink, but it was still fairly early in the day, and he wanted to familiarize himself with the city if this was going to be where they were living for the foreseeable future.

  He turned to Burn. “If you’re okay with it, I’d like the company, ja.”

  Burn nodded silently and they walked through the large metal gate into World’s End.

  To their right was another gate, exiting to the road leading south. In the corner between the two gates stood a large tower through which Frelka could see other guards going in and out. Right in front of them stood the bar that Beep and Shryke were walking toward. With its two-story domed main section and single-story curved entrance, Frelka could see why the building was typically referred to as a Snailhouse. He and Burn turned left and began walking down the main street that made up World’s End.

  Unlike Mongrel, with its rounded layout and multiple roads, World’s End was made up of one street lined on either side by various buildings. The first group of buildings consisted of Storm Houses. Of the five grouped together, three were bars. A crossed wrench and screwdriver marked one of the others as a Mechanical Shop.

  Certainly not affiliated with the Holy Nation, Frelka thought as he passed by.

  Past the Storm Houses sat an L-House with a “For Sale” sign hung on the door. Frelka stopped and looked: twenty-eight thousand Cats. It’d be tight, but they could afford it. And with the profits from the little bits they’d scavenged from Burn’s tower, they’d probably have enough to get settled in before having to worry about money.

  Frelka and Burn continued down the road past almost every house type Frelka knew of. They passed a Traveler’s Store, Weapons Shop, Ranger Shop, and an Armor Shop; there was even an entire tower dedicated to headgear. What caught Frelka’s eye, however, was the large domed Citadel that he and Burn saw at the end of the road. With a large curving ramp that led up to the main floor some twenty or so feet up, tattered iron fences lining the perimeter, and giant, makeshift tarps weighted down in places with sand that had blown in on the wind covering the entryway, the building seemed to scream for Frelka to come inside.

  He gestured to Burn and the two of them ascended the ramp. When they reached the top, they were pleased to see that the gate leading into the area was open. They walked inside to find a large common area. A front desk sat empty near the door they entered, and a few people sat talking at a group of tables in the center of the room.

  Frelka walked up to the group. “Hello! My name is Frelka. What is this place?”

  The talking stopped as the group all turned to eye their new visitor. The one nearest Frelka, a Greenlander with blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and a beard with no mustache, answered, “This is the University, home of all Tech Hunters. Please, feel free to take a look around. If you have any questions, or are interested in joining, you should talk to Finch. Prickly little Hiver, but he knows his stuff.”

  With that, the man turned back to his friends, and their conversation resumed. Frelka turned to Burn and shrugged before walking up the ramp to the second floor. There, he found a large number of bookshelves, workstations, and research desks. At the station nearest him, Frelka saw a shirtless Hiver in orange pants similar to the ones Stitch wore.

  “Hello, are you Finch?” Frelka asked as he approached the table.

  The Hiver jumped and quickly turned to face him. Frelka felt a sinking sensation as the Hive Prince looked at him. If he hadn’t been wearing odd glasses, had a large red ‘X’ on his forehead, and hadn’t been green, Frelka would have likely attacked him on sight. Instead, he loosened his grip on Falling Sun.

  The Hiver stared at him, glaring as much as a Hiver could, muttering to himself, “Interrupting my thought process…this had better be important. Always thought I’d find my peace and quiet working here, but nope, I just get noisy adventurers interrupting me with inane questions. Yes, I am Finch. What do you want, Greenlander?”

  Frelka felt his shoulders tighten at the thin creature in front of him. Hive Prince or not, it didn’t give him the right to be rude.

  “Hello, my name is Frelka. I stumbled upon your university und was hoping to ask you about it, but as I look around, I am confused about one thing: I thought the Holy Nation was against all things tech-related, ja? How do you manage to keep things going while maintaining a friendly relationship with them?”

  Finch looked at Frelka, his confusion evident in his foggy green eyes. “What’s the Holy Nation got to do with…ohhh, you must be talking about the statues at the gate.” He shrugged. “Nothing more than decoys. The statues keep them happy, and the holy fools are gullible enough to lap it up. Just come out with a copy of their holy text when they arrive, say three Hail Okrans, and they’re happy to leave us be. Not so smart, those ones.”

  Despite the aforementioned prickliness, Frelka was starting to understand the Hiver a bit. Clearly, it valued intelligence; or at the very least, its own. If Frelka was going to get on his good side, he’d need to prove himself a student of life as well.

  “So Finch, what can you tell me about the history of the area? I’m always hungry for more knowledge.”

  Finch sighed loudly. “I highly doubt that. Look, if I explained the history of the world to every boor of an adventurer who dropped by, I wouldn’t have much time to carry out my actual research, now would I? You expect everything, you people. One minute you want me to work, next you want to rip me from my bubble of science and knowledge. If you really must know, speak to my assistant, Iyo. He’s the Skeleton on the third floor. Better yet, if you really want knowledge, prove it; go buy one of my many published books, or some of my blueprints. This work is hard, and it’s not cheap keeping everything here moving.”

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  Frelka held up his hands. “Okay. Okay. We are leaving, ja.”

  “Good,” Finch said, before muttering, “head scientist of the Tech Hunters, now personal tour guide for all visitors apparently.”

  At this, he turned back to his desk and continued to work. Every few seconds he would pause and glance up at Frelka before sighing when realizing he hadn’t left yet.

  Frelka felt another urge to reach for Falling Sun. Instead, he turned and ascended the ramp to the third floor. As he stepped off the ramp, he saw that the third floor was where the members of the university slept. Cots littered the area, with a few small lockers and chests for personal items. At one of these chests, a Skeleton in similar orange pants turned and greeted them.

  “Keep loitering our aisles, roamer, and you’ll end up trampled by sleep-deprived scientists. Pause for laugh. What brings you to World’s End University? Do you need something?”

  Compared to the intricate design of Burn, Iyo’s head seemed simple: a rounded cube with a single metal plate extending where a chin would be.

  Here’s hoping he’s better than Finch, Frelka prayed. He smiled and said, “Good morning, ja. You must be Iyo. I am Frelka und this is Burn.” Iyo turned to glance at Burn before looking back at Frelka. “Finch sent us here. Can you tell us about this place?”

  Iyo nodded. “This is the Tech Hunter University. Here we study and analyze lost tech from the ancient world. Slowly but surely, we are uncovering the secrets of our forgotten history. Unfortunately, most ruins have already been scavenged, making it difficult to develop accurate theories without solid evidence.”

  Frelka nodded, trying not to think about how he and Beep were part of that problem not too long ago.

  Iyo continued. “That’s where our Tech Hunters come in. They scour the unexplored lands for any possible remains we can use in our research.” He looked Frelka over before nodding. “If you are interested in adventuring, our stores pay good money for relics. Make sure you bring us anything you find, okay?”

  Frelka nodded and smiled. “Ja, that is easy for Frelka.”

  “Excellent. Then I will leave you to it. Please feel free to peruse our bookshelves. Knowledge is power, after all.”

  Iyo turned back, and Frelka walked over to the nearest bookshelf around the corner from him. As he looked through the various texts on the shelf, he overheard Burn say from around the corner, “I had some questions about your work.”

  “Look,” Iyo responded, “you don’t need to worry. No one will ever know the truth. As long as I am Finch’s second in command, I will see to that myself.” There was a brief silence before he continued. “Let’s not waste each other’s time with this act anymore.”

  A few seconds later, Burn turned the corner and jumped at the sight of Frelka being so close. Frelka tried to act enraptured in one of the texts he had randomly grabbed.

  For the next hour, Frelka walked through the bookshelves, grabbing texts here and there, glancing through their pages, and placing them back. Certainly something Shryke would love, he thought to himself. Eventually, he grew tired, and the two found themselves walking together back toward the bar where Shryke and Beep had entered.

  “So…” Frelka began, unsure of how to phrase the question that had made reading anything during that time impossible.

  “You no doubt overheard the exchange between Iyo and myself,” Burn answered, “and now you wish to understand what he meant.”

  Frelka felt a pit building in his stomach. He had been hesitant about bringing the topic up, but as Burn spoke to him now, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he now knew something he shouldn’t.

  “What?” he feigned. “Did you and Iyo speak? I did not hear this. No, I was just going to ask if you thought Shryke and Beep would still be at the bar.”

  Burn stopped and looked at Frelka. “Please do not feign ignorance, Frelka. It is okay. Just as there are humans with differing goals and beliefs, so too are there with Skeletons. If you wish, we can discuss this more later, as a group.”

  Frelka still felt the pit in his stomach as he nodded to Burn and they walked in silence toward the bar.

  ~~

  Later that evening, they all sat in a circle on the floor of their new home. Despite the short amount of time Frelka had left her alone, Shryke had managed to run up an impressive tab at the bar. By the time they had finished purchasing the home and made it back to the two, Beep was carrying the woman out, her arm thrown over his shoulder.

  Afterward, the four made their way back to their home, set up their bedrolls, and laid Shryke down to sleep it off. They spent the next few hours telling Beep about their trip around town and listening to Beep’s recounting of his time with Shryke.

  By the time Shryke finally woke up, groaning and rubbing her head, it was dark outside, and Beep and Frelka were eating dinner.

  “Gods,” she mumbled, “my head is killing me! Please tell me one of you has some dried meat and water.”

  “Dried meat?” Frelka asked. “Why? It’s so tough…und bland!”

  Shryke shot him a dark look from underneath her hand. “I don’t tell you how to be hungover, you don’t tell me, ja?”

  “Beep.”

  “Oh shut it,” she snapped. “Do you have any or not?”

  Beep turned and dug in his pack. “Beep believes he has some dried meat left from Moll. Here!” He turned and handed Shryke the meat, along with some water.

  She took long, deep drags of the water before setting the empty cup down and chewing on the tough meat. “So,” she began, her grogginess dissipating, “what’d I miss?”

  “Not much,” Frelka answered. “Beep was telling me about the fun you two had at the bar…und how they had to threaten to throw you out if you didn’t stop dancing on it…”

  He saw a deepening in the color of Shryke’s face. “Can’t believe he mentioned that. Pretty sure I told you that stayed between us, Beep.”

  “Beep. Beep forgot,” Beep said, averting his gaze.

  “Whatever,” Shryke groaned. “Sure. So what? I had a little too much to drink and maybe I danced a little. Sue me. I’m just happy to be somewhere real and safe for a change.”

  Frelka felt a sting at her words. He had tried to ignore the horrible memories of the Foglands, but Shryke had been there longer than he had. Long enough to completely give up all hope. And she was right, this was the first night they were truly safe in who knows how long. Even Moll’s camp had the unspoken threat of Holy Nation invasion with every passing second.

  He put a hand on Shryke’s shoulder. “No one is judging you, Shryke. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, ja. Und I’m glad you feel safe.”

  Shryke smiled to herself and patted Frelka’s hand before shifting it to the side. “Okay, you sappy ox, enough of that. Now, I know how my day went. I’m more curious about what you two got up to in town. Find out anything interesting?”

  Frelka looked hesitantly at Burn and then back to Shryke. “Well…Burn und I visited the university at the end of the street. It’s apparently the home of the Tech Hunters. We didn’t glean much aside from the fact that they are trying to piece together the history of the past…und that their second-in-command, a Skeleton named Iyo, seems intent on making sure that doesn’t happen. Burn offered to fill us all in once you woke up.”

  They all turned to Burn, who looked down at the fire in thought. Frelka could hear the whirring of his processors as silence filled the room. After a few minutes, he heard the whirring slow and Burn looked back up at them.

  “I mentioned before how The Price of Obedience is considered to be the event that sparked the Skeletons to turn against the First Civilization, eventually leading to its downfall. This in and of itself is a truth that not many know, even Skeletons.

  “Following this order, the Skeletons revolted and started a war with the First Civilization. While even I admittedly don’t know exactly what occurred during this time, it is known that the Skeletons attempted to wipe out humanity. Some believe they used a plague or biological weapon; others theorize they used the advanced technology of the ancients against them and forced a natural disaster; and some simply are content with leaving it as an overwhelmingly destructive super weapon.

  “Unfortunately, this ignorance is a result of our own doing.” He looked up at Frelka. “You remember the books you were looking through at the university?”

  Frelka nodded. “Ja, there were a lot of them with ink covering most of the text. I was barely able to get anything from them.”

  Burn nodded in turn. “Yes. This was intentional. Iyo, and other Skeletons like him, fear knowledge of the Skeletons’ response to Obedience being known, so they do what they can to hide that knowledge. Because of this, the truth was lost to time.

  “Regardless, whatever weapons the Skeletons used were ones that killed humans, but allowed the Skeletons to survive. In fact, humanity would have perished if not for the actions of Stobe, a behemoth who somehow managed to survive Obedience.

  “Despite the betrayal, Stobe defended the humans, fighting back and protecting them from the Skeleton revolt. Eventually, between the passage of time and his actions, other Skeletons began to feel regret over their betrayal of the master race. Some swapped allegiances, choosing to help the humans instead of killing them. Others, driven mad by their guilt, chose to kill themselves rather than live with their actions. Others still simply erased their memories, choosing ignorance over penance or guilt.

  “Between the mass suicides, mind wipes, and loss of the ability to produce more of ourselves, much knowledge was lost during this time. All that is known now is that due to Stobe’s actions, humanity was spared, and the Skeleton uprising subsided.

  “Two Skeletons in particular–Cat-Lon and Tinfist–eventually attempted to redeem our kind by creating a safe haven for humans. This haven would eventually give rise to The Second Empire.”

  A loud snore broke Burn’s recounting. They all turned to see Frelka slumped upright, dead to the world.

  “Apparently history lessons are a lullaby for the guy,” Shryke muttered.

  Beep laughed.

  “It seems that here is where we shall stop for the night then,” Burn answered. “You should both get some rest. Tomorrow, Frelka is going to want to start getting our home prepared as a base of operations.”

  Shryke groaned. “I’m tired already.”

  She and Beep made themselves comfortable and turned over to sleep.

  As he listened to their breathing slow and become steady, Burn continued to stare at the indoor fire. Suddenly, a monotone voice spoke from the shadows.

  “That’s a big risk you’ve taken Burn. Telling them the truth? Outing me in my protection of our people and our world? You know how dangerous it would be for Kenshi to know what really happened.”

  Iyo stepped into the firelight.

  “Perhaps,” Burn answered, “but I am tired of hiding the truth. Maybe this time can be different. Maybe this time we can keep history from repeating itself, and finally rebuild the world we lost.”

  Iyo stared at Burn, his processors whirring. “What happened to the cynical, depressed Skeleton who exiled himself three years ago? The one who said history was a closed loop. That humanity was doomed to fail, regardless of our efforts?”

  Burn stared at the three figures laying in front of him. “We have lived a long time Iyo. In that time, I have met many humans. I have watched them grow, evolve, and succumb to the same mistakes.” He paused. “But as I’ve watched these three over the past couple of weeks, I can’t help but feel something I haven’t felt in ages…I feel hope that maybe we were wrong. These three can handle the truth, I just know it. And maybe, just maybe, they can help us restore what was lost.”

  Iyo’s processor’s whirred, then settled down. “If that is your decision, I will trust your judgement.”

  Iyo turned and exited back out to the night, leaving Burn to study his new companions in silence.