Chapter 4: The Expo

  Considering the tons of brass, iron, and oil around, the place smelled awfully nice – to a sickening degree even. Flower scented. Though I hadn’t smelled enough flowers in my life to know which ones.

  The Expo was still almost four hours away, but the place was already buzzing.

  Everywhere I looked, past the still-idle mechanical valets near the entrance, inventors were testing their displays – all of them clearly Skyhaven residents, if their coats were anything to go by. Even their tools and materials looked expensive – some of them definitely custom-forged.

  None of them spared me a glance. To them I was probably an Orlinth rat who got in by accident.

  I passed a few of the exhibits on display.

  One woman was calibrating an arm-long mechanical dragonfly whose wings were made of razor-thin green mana crystals – Aero, and eyes made from the same glassy material our COGs displays were made of. It hovered in place, wings blurring, feeding information into the woman’s COG in real time.

  I assumed the dragonfly’s purpose was likely a new scouting agent for the Ironwatch Constabulary – one that could fly using Aero alone and not the usual, steam-conventional methods.

  Not too far away from her, a man had constructed a pair of self-adjusting spectacles. He was just demonstrating to his friends how the spectacles adjusted themselves automatically to be the perfect fit for anyone who wore them regardless of their facial structure.

  I almost facepalmed.

  The place was also filled with staff members – wearing a distinct orange armband – checking names on brass-framed slates, and a few Enforcers here and there.

  I didn’t even bother trying to find my station here, immediately assuming there was zero chance they placed it on the first floor where it would have the most visibility and attention.

  Instead, I looked for Mr. Stanford.

  He was the only reason I was here to begin with. A member from the Committee of Mechanized Advancement, and the only one who’d pushed to include my invention when the others scoffed at my Orlinth address.

  He’d told me to find him early – said he’d help me get settled, show me how things worked. Said I’d be overwhelmed otherwise.

  I hadn’t believed his kindness back then. But now? After being so late, I was desperate for it.

  I began scanning the floor for his white hair and tall frame, but couldn’t find him.

  God, I hope Trent is here at least.

  I moved toward the wide stone staircase at the end of the floor. It also led downstairs, but I ascended to the second floor.

  It was just slightly quitter here. Fewer people. More open space between exhibits.

  That’s when I saw her.

  She stood by a half-assembled display, her coat draped neatly over the railing. Her high-collared dress was light blue, corseted, worn over a long-sleeved white shirt and leggings. Her COG was golden, and her boots rose to her knees, buckled with bronze clasps. Her hair – long and pale blonde – was pinned up with a crystal pin shaped like a clock hand, catching the light every time she moved.

  She was beautiful. So beautiful she seemed to distance everyone away from her.

  Well, everyone except the two obvious bodyguards she had that were eyeing her carefully every few seconds, pretending to be with the organizers. But I noticed them. Their body language. The fact that they did practically nothing but stand there. Spoke to no one. Nothing like the staff members from the first floor.

  The young woman wasn’t wearing working gloves, and I could see that her fingers, outside of having callouses, were also red – but only slightly. Likely from recent exposure to cold – meaning she had just arrived as well.

  I turned to her invention. Or…what was supposed to be her invention.

  Scattered across her worktable were components I could identify but couldn’t understand how – and into what – they were supposed to combine.

  A polished brass funnel with engraved ridges angled toward a half-finished housing chamber. Several narrow glass tubes filled with colored liquids were mounted beside it, connected to thin brass regulators. At the center of it all was a clear glass orb, hollow, resting in a brass cradle – already connected to a small, mechanism with a nested glowing Aetheris. A low hissing sound came from a miniature steam core quietly venting pressure beneath the table.

  Whatever she was building, I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what it was.

  She hadn’t even looked up from her work. But as she reached for a stabilizing clamp, her voice drifted toward me – calm and collected.

  “If you’re going to stand there gawking, you might as well make yourself useful.”

  I blinked. “Sorry?”

  She finally turned, just slightly – blue eyes glancing over her shoulder, her expression neutral.

  “I need you to hold this regulator while I align the funnel.” She gestured toward a thin copper rod fitted into one of the tubes.

  “I actually have my own invention to set up.” I said, rubbing the back of my neck.

  “You help me, and I’ll help you.” She replied, now turning fully to face me, arms crossed. “I can see you just came in too.”

  Her voice was calm, confident. Trained even. It was polished. Her dress alone was probably worth more than my father’s house. Her collar was missing a brooch – I could tell by the two small holes in the fabric that she had one there, but not at the moment.

  She felt too noble.

  Might be from one of the oligarchic families. Though I found it weird she was placed on the second floor if that was the case.

  Trent would know.

  Her eyes scanned me – not judging, not even skeptical – just curious. It was the first time since entering Skyhaven that someone looked at me without a hint of disdain.

  I glanced around once more, hoping to spot Mr. Stanford, or Trent.

  Still no sign.

  She rolled her eyes. “Damn, I’m that ugly, huh?”

  My eyes widened. “What? No! Not at all – I just – “

  She laughed. “Relax. I’m joking.”

  Then she extended her right hand. “I’m Alice.”

  I shook her hand carefully. “Viktor.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Viktor Halegrim, per chance?”

  Wait…what? Why would she know me?

  I nodded, my eyes narrowing. “That’s me. I’d ask if we’ve met, but I’m a hundred percent sure we haven’t.”

  “You’re correct.” She said with a chuckle. “We didn’t know each other – until a moment ago. Now we do.” She paused, then added with a smirk. “In fact, you were one of the inventors I was looking forward to meet at this Expo after they made the list of exhibits public.”

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  “Really?” I asked, half-expecting I was the target of some evil prank.

  She nodded enthusiastically and gestured toward the components of her invention on the table.

  “You see, my invention – The Eye for Lie – is a real-time truth detector. Or at least that’s what I want it to be. It changes color based on the person’s voice – its depth, its resonance, etc., giving clues as to if they are lying or not.” She explained. “But after reading about your Chrono Quill, I started thinking about a possible collaboration.”

  She grew more animated as she explained. “Instead of my device just changing colors based on cadence, tone, and vocal stress – all things that could be bypassed by trained individuals – what if we recorded the words secretly thanks to your Quill? Each word dyed with a tone-specific ink, preserving a truthful emotional state and the statement itself! It would redefine civic testimony!”

  She suddenly stopped, blinking. “Sorry, I’m talking too much, aren’t I?”

  I blinked. That was…an interesting idea.

  “Oh, no.” I shook my head. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

  “I’m glad you think so.” She smiled, visibly proud. Then, she bit her lower lip, looking annoyed. “Unfortunately, most here would disagree. That’s why the Committee put me on the second floor.”

  “I don’t get it…” I said, genuinely confused. If it had something with politics, I wouldn’t really know.

  She blinked, then tilted her head as if she wondered if I was living under a rock. Then suddenly her eyes widened like she had an epiphany. “Ah, right. Forgot you’re from Orlinth.” She leaned in, her voice dropping just a little. “Let’s just say most Skyhaveners would find the whole idea offensive. Analyzing their speech like that? Hunting for their lies? Preposterous! It would force them to get better at lying, and that’s something the lower platforms can’t provide them with for free like they’re used to.”

  “Oh.” I nodded slowly. I had never dealt with anyone from Skyhaven directly before this Expo, but her words summed up everything I’d heard about them pretty well.

  It was surprising that she, of all people, thought this way – and that she talked about it so freely.

  She waved the subject away. “Well, I can see you’re not exactly in the mood to help me out, so I won’t keep you any longer.”

  “Oh, no, it’s not that.” I said quickly, trying to clear up any confusion. “It’s just…I feel so out of place here. Like I need to at least find where they’d put me first. And my assistant.”

  Her eyes widened as if she was impressed. “You have an assistant? Lucky you. Mine bailed on me this morning. Called in sick at the last moment.”

  I gave a sympathetic nod – the best response I could think of.

  Then, suddenly, someone passed behind her, pushing her slightly, making her stumble onto me.

  I caught her, growing flustered.

  “Apologies.” She said, smiling softly and taking one step back.

  “No worries.” I replied, smiling back, my face red.

  “Well, then,” she said, stepping back to her invention. “I’ll see you around. Don’t be a stranger – we still need to talk about our joint endeavor. It’s not every day you run into an actual self-made genius around here.”

  I looked at her, then away.

  “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in Skyhaven.”

  “Weeeell,” she said, focused on tightening the valve bracket, “ninety-nine percent of the residents here are assholes, I can tell you that much.”

  “Are you in the one percent that are not?”

  She laughed, reaching her right hand to her mouth to cover her smile. “Oh no, I’m definitely part of the ninety-nine.”

  ***

  Unsurprisingly, I found my exhibit on the third floor, with Trent tinkering with the Chrono Quill as I arrived.

  He was just sixteen. Short and slim, with tousled brown hair and hazel eyes. His clothes were crumpled and mismatched – black pants, and a dark-blue buttoned shirt clearly from a different set. The children-COG on his left arm looked like it had seen better days, with what appeared to be white paint – already dry – covering half the screen.

  Our parents were friends. And I guess, somewhere along the way – especially after his father’s untimely death, I became an older brother figure to him.

  His usual permanent grin was missing as he suddenly stopped his work, hunched over the device, and began inspecting the Chrono Quill silently.

  My heart dropped.

  “What happened?” I asked and rushed to his side.

  His head snapped toward me. “Viktor! Holy shit, you’re here!”

  “Silence.” One of the nearby inventors muttered.

  Trent shot him a look. “Oh, put a sock in it.”

  The man’s eyes widened, as if he was deeply offended, and turned stiffly back to his invention.

  Trent kept going with the same energy and volume. “Where were you, man?! These Skyhaven weirdos are freaking me out!”

  “Long story. I’ll tell you later.” I tried to wave him off, still focused on the device. “What happened to the Chrono Quill?”

  “Oh, nothing serious.” He said. “I just can’t get it to work.”

  Yeah, totally a minor setback, Trent…

  “Did you check the ink cylinder?”

  “Of course.”

  “The core?”

  “Oh, c’mon, Vik. Who do you take me for?!”

  “The paper compartment?”

  Silence.

  “What about it should I have checked?” he asked, his volume dropping.

  I sighed and stepped forward, reaching for the paper compartment. I pulled out the stack of test pages I’d left in during my last home trial.

  “Ohhh, I knew something was missing!” Trent exclaimed. “I’m gonna go ask for clean paper.”

  “You’re such an airhead…” I muttered.

  But he already darted off.

  ***

  The Expo had begun at 17:00 exactly.

  Skyhaven’s residents trickled in through the arches of The Divine, their eyes curious as they drifted from one invention to another, their expression detached, serene.

  Most importantly, the eleven oligarchic families were in attendance. Or at least that’s what the announcement from the phonotubes said – announcing each one’s arrival until I counted all eleven.

  Either way, none of them came up to the third floor.

  My exhibit was tucked in the far end of the mostly abandoned floor.

  To our right was a man demonstrating a flipping coin that could do exactly fifty rotations in the air regardless of how hard you flipped it.

  “People actually get guild funding for creating crap like this?” Trent asked, rolling his eyes.

  “It’s not as bad as the spectacles from the first floor.” I replied, shaking my head.

  To our left was a teenage girl – likely Trent’s age – whose invention squealed each time she turned it on and didn’t even do anything.

  “I swear if it squeals again, I’m gonna go and do us all a favor by smashing that abomination with a torsion wrench.” Trent muttered after the eleventh time the girl’s invention didn’t work.

  I couldn’t blame him for feeling this way. I was almost at that point myself.

  Next to the girl stood a large mechanical double door reinforced with magitek, glowing white at the seams – the access to the upper floors, I assumed.

  Most people came and went without even looking our way. The few who did approach asked questions with passive curiosity. I explained and demonstrated as politely as I could, believing that they could be disguised judges.

  Then the same thing would play out: “Ah. That’s quite clever.” They’d say, then move on.

  My work received no genuine interest from anyone.

  It was only 17:42, but I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “I’m done.” I said and began packing my things back into the box in which it was stored before Trent began setting it.

  My movements were rushed, angry, and shaky.

  “Wait, Vik.” Trent tried to stop me. “Are you sure? I mean, this is your dream. It had only been forty-two minutes. Don’t let these snobs break you.”

  “Who cares?” I muttered, growing even angrier. “Stanford was the only person who was going to vote in favor of the Chrono Quill anyway and he isn’t even here.”

  Then my hand slipped, and the ink cylinder smashed against the marble floor.

  Ink splattered everywhere. All eyes on me.

  But I didn’t care anymore. I finished packing and stood up.

  “Come on.” I said, walking away.

  Nothing mattered. I was a fool to put my hopes into this.

  I kept telling myself I didn’t really care about it. But look at me now.

  Pathetic.

  I was never going to reach her…

  I rushed down the stairs, Trent following suit, stumbling against some of the visitors.

  Angry and disappointed, I didn’t even apologize.

  “Vik! Wait!” I could hear Trent behind me.

  I didn’t even turn back.

  I stormed down the staircase, reaching the first floor – the heart of the Expo.

  Here, the inventors didn’t stand behind tables – they stood at the front, their families’ legacies behind them. Their COGs custom-carved with their family crests.

  In the center of it all stood Dalton Rose.

  He was relatively young – just in his late thirties. His coat was black, perfectly tailored. His silver collar chain bore the crests of the eleven ruling families. Behind him moved a cluster of officials and private bodyguards, following his every move, nodding at his every word.

  I paused near the stairs, staring across the room, staring at them all.

  They were smiling. Laughing. Sipping champagne from crystal glasses. Sampling exotic food served by mechanical valets in brass plating.

  And for some reason, at that moment, I thought of the Foundry. Of the residents choking on ash, oil, and smoke, while their rulers ate so lavishly, needing for nothing. Of the Orlinthers working their asses off to stand by their side.

  My stomach turned at myself.

  For being here. For begging for their recognition. For wanting to reach Skyhaven. I’m as two faced as those bastards.

  I clenched my fists and turned toward the exit.

  But before I could reach the arched doorway, a sharp, simultaneous beep rang out from every COG on the floor – a symphony of alerts.

  I glanced at my COG.

  [Notification]

  [Dear Annual Expo attendees, a message from your leader will now play through the Divine’s central phonotube array]

  What? But Dalton Rose was right there, and he didn’t seem like he was going to make any announcements – he looked just as confused as everyone else in the room.

  “What the fuck?” Trent muttered beside me.

  Then, the brass phonotubes crackled to life. The sound was warped – distorted – but still unmistakably human. Cold. Charismatic.

  “Hello, citizens of Skyhaven – especially my favorite eleven families.” The voice said. “This is Valdemar speaking.”

  A chill ran down my spine.

  Murmurs around me intensified into terrified gasps.

  The leader of Libra continued, voice as calm as it was terrifying.

  “On this beautiful evening, I’m grateful we managed to gather all of you in one place. For years, you believed yourselves to be above suffering. Beyond consequences. Beyond Libra’s reach. Beyond MY reach.”

  Valdemar let the silence hang.

  “But that era is over. Today, I bring you a moment that the history of Solvane will never forget – a day that will be spoken of by everyone.

  “Today, the balance had shifted.”

  The room froze.

  Every voice in the hall fell silent.

  Even Dalton Rose paused, his eyes widened slightly.

  And then – BOOM.