The City under the Sky of Stone Part Eight

in #writing7 years ago

by Michael Warner Molema

Mire Sciences was the scientific research and development hub of Illumination. What happened there was mostly ethical; improvement of steam engines, diving – or in this case, navigation of toxic atmospheres – equipment, medical advancements, and automated transport. These fields were a front for the real operation inside the Sciences laboratories. Half the building was buried deep in the cave floor, allowing a much sinister research to occur, far from the prying eyes of the Illumination public; And those who worked there were so well paid that no second thought was given to what they saw, it was merely all in a day’s work.

I found myself in the secret facility under the Mire Sciences building. I had earlier slipped in and, in my magical rat form, crawled through the facilities’ ventilation system. I had exited the labyrinthian ducts in a room filled with storage crates, all of which were painted different colours. After that I met two guards who I easily duped; I was a freelance magician, and this line of work had placed me in many situations where I had to pretend to be someone else, thus, disguise was a natural part of me.
Now that the security officers had gone I could now take in my surroundings. I was in a massive chamber that, along the walls and a little way into the floor space, there were massive containers. These containers had glass walls, I cupped my hands and peered into the dark container.

Inside, there appeared to be, I assumed, suits upon suits of Methonaut armour standing, waiting to be used.

“Oi! Friend,” I heard someone call. “Stop peering into the containers and get over here!”

I knew it was me who was being called for. I picked up my tool box and jogged deeper into the chamber, as the man who called me stood at the end of the line of Methonaut armour containers.

“Thank goodness you’ve arrived,” said the man as I go close. “The steam supply to the Gate was cut off when a valve sealed itself for no good reason. The boss is getting frustrated and has started throwing his crazy magic around.”
“Sorry I delayed back there,” I said, sounding as sorry as I could. “I’ve just never seen so many suits of Methonaut armour before.”

We had started walking towards the large device in the centre of the room as we were talking, I could now see it clearer than before as it was wreathed in steam. The foreman, I assumed, clapped me on the shoulder and laughed, “You’re a real joker friend. You and I both know those crates are filled with dormant Methonauts, not suits.”

I laughed along with the man, internally I was screaming. An army of the city’s repairmen was found under the Mire Sciences building. As we grew closer I saw a small office building next to the ring-shaped device, and a whole crew of workers milling about waiting for something, that something I knew was me.

“Every one,” cried the foreman. “Look who I found!”

All the people turned to face us, they cheered. I was ushered through the crowd to a large steam pipe that had the diameter of an average bicycle wheel. I inspected the valve structure and found the latch that held it open was broken.

“Can you fix it?” asked the foreman, a worried look on his face. “Yes,” I replied. “Give me ten minutes, I’ve got a replacement part in my toolbox.”

When the job was complete, I opened the valve and locked it into place. When the was done the great ring-shaped device rumbled to life. Slowly, like warm icing melting off a freshly baked cake, a rippling mirror expanded from the ring’s centre until it obscured what was on the other side of the ring. From the lower middle of the mirror a circular hole appeared, and from this hole a man stepped forward, allowing the hole to close, restoring the mirror. He seemed to be in a trance, drawn towards the crowd waiting at the bottom of the ramp. But this was no ordinary man; the man was me. And the man who stepped out behind the first, was also me.

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