Sexy Steampunk Babes: Chapter Forty Nine

Well, at least he doesn’t look like he’s about to keel over anymore, Piper thought as she followed her liege lord into his personal lab.

Indeed, after a shower and a nap, the young man seemed almost sheepish about the state he’d been in when he’d stumbled into her office.

Fortunately, for him, Piper was one of the few people whom he could have stumbled into that understood. Sure, his was definitely something of an extreme case, what with the crusted blood around his nose, but she herself was no stranger to pulling all-nighters while working on some new innovation.

So… she got it, even if she had little desire to see a repeat.

“Well, here we are,” William said as he turned to shut the heavy duty door to his lab closed behind them.

And while under different circumstances the dwarf might have considered it mildly scandalous to be locked into a room alone with an unmarried man, in this case that idea was about as far from her thoughts as a thing could be.

No, her attention was entirely on the sheets upon sheets of notes sprawled about on shelves and work surfaces or otherwise pinned to walls. Likewise, the boy’s tools were in little better condition, strewn about the floor like discarded play things.

Again, she’d seen worse. From senior alchemists and initiates alike. Which was why her gaze didn’t linger long there, instead pivoting up to the center of the room.

She recognized it as being made from parts the county’s workshops had spent the last two months working on instantly.

Only now they were assembled, forming an uneven circular shape. Which couldn’t have been a quick process given the evident complexity of the device.

How long did it take him to piece it together? She wondered – though not before wincing as her foot stepped into a small pool of some manner of viscous fluid.

A lubricant of some kind, given the way her foot had nearly slipped out from under her.

“Ah, sorry about that,” the boy said as he handed her a rag. “Had a bit of a spill in here the other night.”

“Quite fine,” Piper said honestly. “Stepping in strange fluids are something of an occupational hazard for an alchemist.”

Indeed, she was actually a little curious as to the makeup of the liquid she’d just stepped in and had to resist the urge to kneel down to inspect it. That could come later. For now, she kept her focus entirely on the… device in the center of the room.

And the parts connected to it.

Indeed, a small network of tubes and wires splayed out from the back of the machine, connecting to a vat and some other small trinkets.

It was an interesting sight. Not least of all because, while biology was hardly a main focus of hers, she had engaged in more than a few dissections in her time while seeking out greater insights into the alchemical processes behind the function of certain beasts.

To that end, she’d once had cause to remove a wyvern’s entire digestive tract, splaying it out on wire racks so that she might see how food traveled through the entire system. A display that ended up taking up an entire room at the time.

This reminded her of that.

The question now is, what kind of beast does this system belong to, she thought.

“Well, please do tell me if you see any start leaking out of this,” the boy said as he excitedly skipped over to one of the wire trinkets. “I’m pretty sure there aren’t any leaks in the lines I’ve set up, but you never know.”

He paused. “And suffice to say, a leak would probably be bad right about now.”

“The dangers of unknown leaking fluids are also something I’m quite familiar with as an alchemist,” Piper said. “I’ll be sure to keep you informed if I see anything… untoward.”

As he said, even if she didn’t know what she was looking at, she could at least be reasonably certain that stuff leaking out of it would be bad.

Grinning, the boy nodded before he flipped some kind of switch on the wire trinket he was holding and suddenly the close confines of the lab they were in was filled with the most unholy roar.

It seems my animal comparisons weren’t entirely off-base, she thought as she resisted the urge to cover her ears.

Hell, the ‘creature’ even breathed, as it belched forth a plume of black smoke. The origin of which she was quick to identify as the acrid smell pervaded her senses.

Earth-Blood. Burnt.

She thought she’d smelled it when she walked in, but the odor had been hidden under too many other chemical stenches to be easily identified. Now though, she knew. Whatever this device was, it burned earth-blood as a byproduct.

This was the more refined version. Not the base product. Her dwarvish sense of smell confirmed it.

Which made sense. It was barely a few weeks ago that he’d asked her to provide him with a variant of earth-blood that was ‘hardier’. Less prone to igniting as a result of pressure. Fortunately for her some research on that topic had already been conducted by the alchemists guild while attempting to create a kraken killing poison. An attempt they’d failed in, naturally. But at least they kept the recipe regardless – and in doing so had saved her from having to create a mixture from scratch.

‘Deep-Glow.’

A fairly uninspired name, but one that fit given that it, well, glowed. More importantly though, the creation of the substance wasn’t all that expensive; only truly requiring earth-blood, silver and the pulped remains of a species of deep sea bioluminescent worm.

The boy had requested they stockpile a vat of it in addition to the crude earth-blood and bear-blood they were already amassing. At the time, she’d not thought much of it. Just one more seemingly nonsensical request amongst a myriad he made daily.

Only now, as she watched with awe as the propellor that had been affixed to the front of the massive ‘disk’ start to spin with unnatural speed and power, did she realize that said request was perhaps less nonsensical than she’d thought.

For in her mind’s eye, she’d already replaced the tiny fan with the propellors of a shard.

“This is a mithril core,” she realized, uncaring of the notes that new blew wildly around her as a result of the machine’s backdraft. “An artificial mithril core.”

The holy grail of magic, stood right in front of her, inside a tiny little shed in the middle of some backwater county.

The boy – no, the man – hadn’t heard her words. Stone, she could barely hear herself over the roar of the rushing wind and growling of the artificial core.

But given the way he smiled, he clearly understood her amazement.

Flicking the switch in his hands again, the core’s growl cut faded to nothing near instantly, the spinning of the propellors losing their intensity as they too started to slow.

Piper almost protested.

She’d wanted to see more. To investigate. To see how it could possibly do what she was seeing.

Instead, she turned to her liege. “How?”

“Explosions.” His grin turned positively devilish. “Little ones, admittedly. Hell, more short-lived fires than anything else, but explosions all the same.”

“…Contained explosions?” she breathed. “Little ones? Using the Earth-Blood?”

“Yep.”

The idea boggled the mind. Moreso as she realized that said explosions had just been happening less than a meter from a container filled with the same substance that was supposedly being used as fuel for said explosions.

A substance prone to igniting when placed near an open flame. Or even just sparks. Of which an explosion produced both.

And her employer was stood right next to it.

As if it were normal.

“You’re harrowed,” the words slipped out of her before she could stop them, her tone colored by both horror and awe. “This… all of this. It’s too much. Too different. Too complete.”

“Ah,” he said, his features twisting into an expression of resigned yet wry amusement. “I assumed you’d figure it out once you saw this.”

He didn’t deny it, she noted. And how could he. This… system. It was too complex. Too complete. She’d seen the parts that made up this ‘fake core’ and even with all of them laid out before her she’d not been able to see the end result.

Because it was too much of a paradigm shift from what she knew. The idea of using earth-blood to create a… contained explosion...

Truth be told, she still had a little trouble envisioning it – even though the evidence of its efficacy had been twirling merrily away in front of her but moments ago.

…She wanted to understand though. More than anything. She’d dedicated her whole life to alchemy. Because she honestly believed it was alchemy, not enchanting or elementalism, that which would propel mortal-kind into a new golden age of innovation.

And here in front of her was evidence of such. A substance made from alchemy being used to power a fake core.

Provided to her, wholesale, by a madman that wasn’t mad.

She understood, in that moment, the mindset behind the mad magisters of the old imperium. Why they’d dragged common-born mages kicking and screaming into the divination chambers by their dozens. Why they rebuilt those same divination chambers over and over again each time one of those common mages asked the fae not what they’d been told to ask by those selfsame magisters, but how to make those that had consigned them to a fate worse than death suffer.

Piper had never had cause to see it, but word was that some of the locations that had once housed said buildings were as of yet unlivable to this day. Lifeless barren patches of land where nothing grew.

…Because despite knowing that, Piper still found herself tempted.

Because the answers to her every question were out there. They weren’t even far away. One only needed to dream. To ask. To make a deal.

And while William was no fae, given his harrowed nature he was the closest thing one might find to one on this plane of reality.

“To be fair though,” he continued. “I think we can both agree that I carry my burden with more grace than most?”

Piper just said, nothing. She just stared. At the – no, two – impossibilities that stood in front of her.

Because he wasn’t wrong. And she was interested, she’d admit. How he’d managed to retain his faculties where so many others hadn’t.

But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that was secondary to another question.

So it was, that she finally spoke. “I’ll swear a geass. Any geass. I’ll get my people to sign geass too. As binding as you like. All you have to do in return is tell me everything you know about Earth-Blood. And this ‘artificial core’ of yours.”

She was surprised, but not too surprised, to find she didn’t care about anything else.

What his plans were.

Why he’d kept this all a secret.

Why he was building so many ‘fake cores’.

What he intended to do with the many pilots she now realized he was training to fly his… alchemy-shards.

Those were passing worldly concerns. Politics and ambition. Transient things. She’d ignored them all her life.

Because they would ultimately be made moot with the flow of time. Queens and Empires faded and died. Knowledge though? The ideas used to facilitate those schemes? Well, that would last forever.

Still, transient or not, it was a little amusing to see a hint of surprise flit across her employer’s features at her words.

Then he laughed, a deep belly laugh that had almost had him keel over. Eventually though, he straightened, wiping a stray tear from his eye. “A woman after my own heart. And I’d be happy to tell you all I know - just as soon as you’ve sworn your geass.”

She nodded, even as she reached into her alchemy robes. “I’ve got a sleep drought with me. It should knock us out for an hour. We can take it now.”

Once more he paused, before his smile widened. “Yep, definitely after my own heart. Let me grab a blanket.”

It was amusing, the thought of ‘sleeping’ with a boy William’s age might have titillated her but a few minutes ago.

Now she didn’t give a fuck.

There were greater things at play here.

-------------------

“Depths, are you ok, boss?” Anya whispered quietly during a conversational lull.

Piper glanced blearily over at her second in command, turning her attention away from the ongoing argument occurring in her office.

“I’m fine, I promise,” she muttered, whispering just loud enough to be heard over the other department heads, but not so loud that they’d hear her. “Just… a late night.”

One she didn’t regret for a moment. Of course, given the bloodshot nature of her eyes and unkempt hair, she realized the irony of mentally chastising William for showing up in her office in a similar state barely a day ago.

How times change, she thought.

Because right now she didn’t much care how she looked. She’d strode into this meeting feeling like she was walking on air – though exhaust  fumes might have been the more accurate descriptor.

Indeed, she was still feeling downright chipper as the department heads across from her, finally stopped muttering to each other and turned to her.

“So you’re saying the last two months were a giant waste of woman-hours and resources?” Annie Hearthland, Redwater’s lead mage-smith, muttered.

Piper made a so-so gesture. “Wasted is a strong word. I’d say that our workshops learned a lot from the experience. As did our lord in regards to one of his more ambitious projects.”

“A project we still don’t know the details of, or even the purpose of the components we were creating for it. Even though it’s now being shut down,” another woman complained.

“Downsized. Not shut down,” Piper corrected. “A number of workshops will continue making the same components they are right now.”

Predictably, there was more complaining at that, but Piper shut it down with a wave of her hands. Most of them were just putting on airs. It wasn’t like they’d not been paid for their time, even if the work they’d been doing was ‘pointless’. It wasn’t like this was the first time a noble had invested a ton of gold into something useless. The Bloatwater’s flying castle still served as a cautionary tale to a lot of Lindholm on the dangers of investing too hard in unproven concepts.

“Ok, then, what does the lord want to transition to next? I don’t know how much stock I put in it, but I’ve heard that music box is of mundane-make?”

Around the woman that had spoken, a few faces perked up with interest.

Interest she quickly punctured.

“I’m afraid not. Though I can confirm that said music box is indeed entirely mundane in its construction, it’s not actually our lord’s invention. Rather it was created by the family of a teammate. A teammate that has access to their own production facilities.”

A sigh seemed to ring out across the room.

“What then?”

She grinned. “Air frames. A new design certainly, but one that is still well within our skillsets.”

Instantly, the mood of the room turned downright jubilant. And why wouldn’t it? Shard creation was about as prestigious a task as a smith could work on, perhaps below only that of creating a new airship. And even then, it was debatable.

“Well, I don’t know how much he lost over the last two months, but I could see creating new airframes as a way of recouping it quickly enough. Crown’s buying up all the frames it can get. Quality don’t matter. Not saying we won’t be making quality.” Annie grinned. “Either way, it’ll be damn good to be working on something that actually makes sense again. Something simple, ya know?”

Piper’s own smile twitch a little as she thought of the new blueprints even now sitting in her desk drawer.

“Yeah, simple,” she said slowly.

Though even as the other smiths in the room started debating what design they’d now be working on – and the merits of each therein – the dwarf was thinking about how she was going to explain why they were building shards with everything except internal aether piping.

Or maneuvering thrusters.

Or even a proper reinforced housing for the core.

At least the hollow voids in the wings and front of the craft will look like it still has ballasts, she thought.

Sighing, she glanced out the window to where work teams were already clambering over the exterior of the Jellyfish – the great airship’s frame covered in scaffolding where the new ‘flat top’ landing runway was being installed. Likewise, she knew for a fact that inside the massive craft, the transport elevator was being expanded to be able to traverse three more decks.

Via the cutting of holes through said decks.

And the less said about the expansion of new ‘water tanks’ the better. Finding space for them had been a nightmare. And while, sure, the gun decks being removed meant there was more space aboard, that space had pretty much been immediately set aside as ‘marine berthing’ by William.

And while some of it might actually be used as berthing for crew of some descriptor, I have a pretty good idea as to what most of that extra space is really being set aside for, she thought. Given, you know, the lack of internal bulkheads.

She’d had her suspicions before, but now she knew for a fact that said space was being set aside as hangar space.

Still…

She winced at the slapdash nature of the whole thing. Then again, that was a pretty good descriptor for just about everything William Redwater did. The man had a bad habit of trying to make his projects run when they really needed to crawl.

Here’s hoping that doesn’t come back to bite us all in the ass, she thought.

---------------------

Olivia couldn’t help but feel some small amount of betrayal as the door to her room remained stubbornly closed. It had gone dark hours ago, and yet her brother had yet to visit her. Indeed, he’d probably returned to the academy by now.

Leaving her here. A prisoner in his estate.

Oh sure, her aunt and mother had tried to dress it up differently, but everyone knew the truth. Olivia was now out of the running for duchess – before she’d even had a chance to actually fight for it.

The question was, was it a result of her brother’s actions?

In a hurried tone as she’d been loaded into a shard, her mother had told her that the Queen was now aware of Olivia’s father and her upcoming nuptials, and that she’d be living on her brother’s estate for a while for her protection…

Protection she needed to avoid the Queen’s wrath.

Because Olivia was a threat to her rule.

She’d wanted to fly North. To hide with the Blackstone’s until she had the opportunity to sally forth to claim her birthright.

Her requests had been denied. First by her mother and then by her aunt on the flight over. She was going to her brother’s estate, where she’d be held as a hostage until such time that the Summerfield succession was decided.

…And it wasn’t fair.

Was this her brother’s revenge, for usurping his birthright was he now denying her access to her own?

It was an unworthy thought. Her brother loved her. She knew that. He didn’t care about the fact she’d displaced him as heir. Or if he did, he’d never once taken it out on her. He loved her.

And she loved him.

Yet still… some part of her whispered vile theories as to just how the Queen had found out about their conspiracy.

She’d told no one but him.

That had been part of the reason why she’d stormed out when they reunited, even though part of her had been happy to see him again after so long.

That damn niggling doubt of hers…

She pulled her knees to her chest as she sat on her bed, her nighty keeping her warm while the mage-light on her bedside continued to flicker brightly.

Why? Why would he do it, when all he needed to do was remain quiet and we both could have inherited-

Her thoughts were interrupted by the door to her room exploding off its hinges and a trio of masked figures in black bursting into the room.

She screamed, even as one of the figures rushed forward to shove a rag into her mouth. With quick practiced movements, the young half-elf was tied and gagged, before being thrown over one of the figure’s shoulders.

And then they were moving out into the hall.

Aunt! Aunt Karla, she thought, wondering where her protector was.

And then she saw her, collapsed in the hall – void, there was so much blood! It pooled around the mage-knight, staining her night clothes. The woman’s sword lay nearby, the blade still in its sheathe.

She was so still. Her eyes closed, as if she was only sleeping.

Aunt Karla!

Olivia screamed, though it was muffled by her gag as she was carried through the halls and out of sight of her murdered aunt.

The girl tried to struggle, bashing her bound hands and knees against her captor’s chest, but the woman barely seemed to feel it. Indeed, all Olivia achieved was abrading her knees and hands on the rough scale-like black materials of the woman’s cuirass.

So it was that with each passing step, she cried out, hoping that some of her brother’s guards might hear her.

Yet none came, no matter how she howled, and soon enough they were out into the night, her captors’ boots crunching against the gravel path as they ran. Bare moments later, they came to a stop up against what Olivia realized was a black carriage.

“Get her in. Gentle now,” one of the other black clad figures instructed with an accent that sounded oddly familiar. “Watch her head.”

Olivia could care less for the woman’s concern, glaring hatefully at the trio that had murdered a member of her family in cold blood, as she was shoved onto the seat of the carriage.

Then the door was slammed shut and Olivia was left alone in the dark.

A few moments passed, the silence broken only by the sound of her labored breathing and the sound of a whip being cracked outside as the carriage started to move.

Then a voice spoke.

“Hello Olivia, I think it’s time we had a chat.”