Chapter Twelve - Walking

“Got all your stuff?” I asked.

The elf was panting, his robes plastered to his skin. Still, he was trying to stand tall and regal, even if he looked anything but. His robes were smeared in sand already, and he had a cloth mask over his lower face. Something left in his hab?

“I’ve got everything I can carry,” he said. “Everything I thought was reasonable.” He gestured to two little bags, neither that big, and a third, larger satchel with a long leather thong. “I took the water from the mech too.”

I looked at the front of his robes. So it wasn’t just sweat, he’d dribbled on himself. Back where I was from, that would have gotten him teased for being a kid. In some places, in some times, that might have gotten him killed. A swallow of water could mean life or death. But we had plenty for now.

“Alright. This won’t be the most comfortable ride in your life,” I said. I expected to see him squirm. I’d never done much business with the noble-y sort, but everyone heard the stories.

Instead Clin nodded. “I know. I’ll try to keep my complaining to a minimum. Though, I do look forward to being home. And to taking a bath.”

Rich bastard. “Right, let’s load your shit in,” I said as I grabbed one of the bags. Its weight caught me off guard. Whatever was in there, it wasn’t a change of underthings. “What’s this?”

“Tools,” he said. “Once we’re safe, I can take a look at your mech. Make sure we make it back.”

“Hrm,” I said. I moved over to Rusty and flung the bag in, then, with a lunging step onto one of the mech’s knees, I climbed up and into the cabin. I reluctantly turned and knelt on the edge to help the elf in.

There wasn’t much room for loot, and honestly, other than some spare ammunition for my two new guns and a few rations, there wasn’t much worth taking. Oh, there were cannons and machine guns, but they were fixed. I’d need a few hours to undo them, then a good mechanic to fix anything onto Rusty.

Plenty of the equipment on the busted mechs was better than what I had, but there would be time for that later, when I returned with a group of scrappers, or sent someone I could trust to grab what they could. Getting back, and fixing Rusty, that’s what came first.

“Alright, princess, up you come,” I said as I extended a hand down to the elf.

He grabbed it, planted a shoe against Rusty’s lower hull, and I pulled while he jumped. He was surprisingly light for someone of his height. “Thank you. Can your mech carry that last satchel?”

“What’s in it?” I asked.

“Water, food, some supplies. I’m not from the desert. I’d rather not die in it.”

“Fair,” I said before gesturing around. “Make yourself at home.”

From my seat in the middle I could just about reach every part of the cabin. That meant that the farthest point from the middle was little more than an arm’s span away, less, usually.

“A little cramped,” he said.

“We’ll be keeping each other good company,” I said. “Now get seated, I’m shutting this up.”

The elf moved to the back, avoiding my seat and the consoles around it before pressing himself against the back wall, right under the cooling vent. He grabbed one of his bags, shoved it down, and sat on it, legs splayed out to either side.

“Comfy?” I asked.

“Never been more so,” he replied, flat as the western Vasts.

I barked a laugh and pulled the door shut. It always took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dark, but there was plenty of light coming from the periscopes, and I knew Rusty like the back of my hand.

The elf didn’t seem to enjoy it. “Rather dark,” he said.

“Yeah,” I agreed as I sat down. Didn’t like having the man behind me like that, though I didn’t have much of a choice. Couldn’t let him ride on top, he’d cook. I took off my mask and hung it from its buttoned leather loop, then slid my gloves off. My hands were damned dry, even after getting them wet earlier. Too bad.

I slid my hat off, brushed some sand out of my hair, then started to prep Rusty.

The piloting system came down, needle hovering over my collarbone and I tried not to tense too much. Frankly, I just didn’t like looking weak.

“You’re not taking anything for the pain?” Clin asked.

I barked a laugh and reached under my seat. I’d made sure my whiskey was back in place earlier. “This will help,” I said.

“Elven pilots have a herb they chew, it helps dull the dizziness and soothes the pain.”

“Ain’t an elven pilot,” I said.

“I surmised as much,” Clin said.

I flicked the switch to initialize Rusty’s system, then stared at the magical read-out.

Combat Core - RUSTY - Active

... Surface Controls... Light Damage [RUN CHECK!]

... Cooling... Sub-Optimal

... Fuel Levels... Optimal

... Weapons... Loaded

... Mana Circulation ... Sub-Optimal [RUN CHECK!]

DAMAGE CHECK

...

Left Arm - MISSING

Right Knee Actuation Damaged

Left Hip Socket Damaged

Spinal Connector Damaged

Right Shoulder MISSING

Neck Actuation Damaged

Primary Heat Sink Damaged

WEAPON CHECK

...

Lever-Action, Emberbar Rifle - Functional

Model 1634 Revolving Gun - Functional

Pilot Check

...

Pilot Not Responding...

I felt Clin pushing himself up to hover over my shoulder. I turned, looking up to him until our eyes met. He broke first, staring at the screen. “That’s a significant amount of damage,” he said.

“I took a tumble,” I said. “Now sit down, I’m jacking in.”

My eyes closed and I ignored Clin sitting back down as the needle came down. I let the dizziness and the pain and the disorientation wash over me. I clenched my legs together and bunched my abs while trying to remember to breathe.

“Are you well?” Clin asked.

“Fine,” I replied as it all cooled down and I got used to being myself and being Rusty. Hands in the control gauntlets, I started to flicks things on. Rusty rumbled to life, and I listened to his protests. There were a few new rattles. Some pipe was loose somewhere, one of the little ones.

A faint and persistent smell of cooking hydraulic fluid filled the cabin before the cooling whisked it away. Hoped that wasn’t anything serious. I hadn’t noticed any leaks, but then, there was a lot of noticing to do.

We started walking. The sun was well on its way to setting, turning the world into a wash of deep orange, with the occasional glint as the sun caught of glassy sand.

Rusty’s gait was off. The left pedal felt heavy, and it fought on every backstroke. I could already imagine the ache in my thighs the next day.

Still, we were moving. I connected to Rusty’s eye, and dove through the nausea. With the sun setting the eye was a little more useful. Less heat to obfuscate everything.

“Have you been a... your title is ranger?”

“Ranger?” I asked. There were rangers to the west. Usually out of Flatbluff and Cinderwich. Fancy men and women with old but reliable mechs. They wore long dusters over their machines, and rumour had it that picking a fight with one was as good as eating your own revolver. “No, I’m nothing like that. Just a bounty hunter.”

“A... yes, I suppose that makes sense. Forgive me for asking.”

“It’s fine,” I said. “Long trek. Talking makes it shorter, I suppose.”

I heard him make a sound that I assume was assent. Bastard was probably bumping all over the place back there. At least my seat had a spring under it.

“So, you haven’t told me what you and your elf buddies were doing out there. Why the gnomes are after you.”

He didn’t say anything for a while. I knew better than to take my eyes off the scenery though.

“I wish I knew,” he said. “My clan has been rising to prominence, maybe someone wants to stop that. I was on a trade mission, but part of it was diplomatic. Maybe it was one of those things. I don’t know. The gnomes were friendly and hospitable and kind, but M-- one of my guards, she pulled me to the side and demanded that we leave, that we run. I listened. Then we were chased, and now I’m here.”

“Feel like I’m missing a whole lot of that story.”

“You are,” he said. “But it’s enough to know that something happened in a way that it ought not have.”

We walked in quiet for a bit. I was used to it, just me and Rusty, clanging out way through the desert. Some ways out I paused and pulled a notebook out from a box tucked against one wall. I aimed Rusty’s head up and took in the stars. I had our location a bit later. “We’ll be stopping for the night in a bit,” I said.

Clin didn’t seem to have the energy to complain.

***