Rip went to sleep shortly after Blair returned to the main house. He indeed felt quite tired after the day’s events.

The following morning he shaved, bathed, and made his way to the kitchen door to see what Nancy had cooking for breakfast. She brought out bacon, eggs and toast with marmalade.

Blair walked in shortly after, wearing fresh khakis.

“We’ll need to get there soon this morning. We don’t want them to start the hearing without us,” she said.

They said their goodbyes to Nancy and walked out to the street, catching a cab soon after setting out.

Blair seemed to be in a reticent mood, so Rip did not try to make casual conversation. Instead, he called up his status screen to see how the foray into the vault treated him.

He gained a remarkable 11 points in [Vampiric Speed], having used it so much. [Night Vision], his other boon from the Verez sisters, clocked in at nine points.

Weaponry, with all the shooting, especially those silver medallions on the enhanced robots, increased by nine. He thought that result was particularly good, since it was already at Tier Two, and the increases came a bit slower for it.

[Mechanical Discernment] had risen a satisfying five points, as did [General Combat], his highest skill. That also made him happy, for the same reason the increases in Weaponry did.

He had also received two points in Disarm Traps. He wondered about that until he recalled seeing the notifications when he dealt with the mud golem, Kiporous.

I suppose that counted as a trap, of sorts.

Finally, he had gained a new skill, [Unbreakable Will]. It was very low, and appeared to be passive. And, he had no idea how to level it up.

But it seemed useful, especially in tight situations. Rip recalled he gained it when that robot was trying to crush him.

He brought up his status screen and looked over everything.

[You are a Tier 2.68 Battle Rogue Technologist.]

[Skill: Unbreakable Will, 1.10]

[Skill: Detect Traps, 1.11]

[Skill: Vampiric Speed (Boon), 1.25]

[Skill: Transporter (Combo), 1.30]

[Skill: Night Vision (Boon), 1.31]

[Skill: Disarm Traps, 1.45]

[Skill: Lock Picking, 1.49]

[Skill: Mechanical Discernment, 1.52]

[Skill: Stealth, 1.56]

[Skill: Weaponry, 2.31]

[Skill: General Combat, 2.47]

Not bad for a day’s work, he thought.

Rip found himself looking forward to reaching Tier Three. He wondered if everything would take a jump, and he daydreamed for a bit about the power increases he might see across the board.

He also thought about finding opportunities to raise other skills. With the team’s brief time down in the vault, he had not had a chance to work on his [Stealth], for instance, although it still remained his highest Tier One ability even without using it advancing it lately.

Probably something to do with the rogue part of my class, he thought.

While he was still mulling over these matters, they came to an intersection and had to wait for an officer directing traffic.

Rip heard a newsboy call out on the corner.

“Big news! Big news! Robots attack Ethinium! Otherworlder helps Army! Steel Comet marks black airships! Lady Fisher’s girls suffer losses! Read all about it! Catch the paper here!”

Rip said, “Sounds like a lot of other things happened yesterday, too.”

Blair raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He leaned out the window, flashing a coin.

“Which flavor of news will you have, sirrah?” the boy said, running up to the window with a stack of different mastheads under one arm.

“The Standard Trumpet.”

“Aha, good choice, sirrah! That’s the one I read, y’know.”

He handed over the coin and the boy lifted up the paper. Rip sat back to catch up on the events he missed, or was not a part of, and to read the paper’s take on those in which he was involved.

Time passed quickly, and they arrived at Doctors’ Commons before he could finish.

He was surprised to find a crowd out front. Sticking his head out the window, he realized many of the people standing around had the word “PRESS” on cards in their hatbands.

He pulled back in and said, “I guess this is going to be kind of a big deal today.”

“Hm.”

“Maybe you could start cussing and clear this crowd out for us?”

He chuckled at the look of outrage that briefly crossed Blair’s face.

“Just kidding.”

The cabbie made his way on his own, mostly by informing the crowd he carried very important Venture Society members who needed to be here. People parted, and they made it through.

A line of policeman also parted, but only after one of them looked in the window. Rip smiled at him, Blair glared at him, and he let them pass.

Rip glanced at Blair and had a sudden flash of insight.

“You’re not much of a morning person, are you?”

“What makes you say that?”

He held up a calming hand.

“I like coffee. You should try it. Starts the day off right.”

She harrumphed and the cabbie stopped, then opened their door with the foot switch.

They exited and Rip paid the man. Then they started down the garden path toward the RVS building.

Blair’s mood seemed to improve as they walked. When they reached the Venture Society building and checked in up front, the receptionist told them three hearings would be combined into one, due to the nature of the attacks on the city last night. The press would be present and they were expected to attend, along with several other people who were involved.

“What time does it start?” Blair asked the young woman.

“At the top of the hour. So, in about 30 minutes.”

Blair nodded and they walked away from the front desk.

“Well, at least we don’t have to worry about finding a seat,” Rip said.

Blair harrumphed again.

She said, “Optimism is seldom rewarded.”

“Okay. I can see you’re moody this morning. I’m going to browse the vendors while we wait. Meet you in there?”

She nodded without looking at him and they parted ways.

Rip noticed something different as he walked outside. Everyone looked at him.

He suddenly felt self-conscious. Every single person looked at him, as if they knew him. Or at least, who he was.

Well, I guess they probably do know me, he thought. But still. This is unnerving.

Outside in the vendor area, both those buying and selling watched him with unwavering scrutiny. He started down the center arms merchant aisle.

One of the men behind a booth said, “Sergeant, I think I have just the gun for you . . .”

Rip waved him off and kept walking.

“Sergeant! Sergeant! Over here!”

“I say, Mr. Coulter. I have just the items you need for your next encounter with Darhaven robots!”

“The newest Thompson guns, sirrah! I have kept one just for you.”

He sighed and kept going.

Well, so much for anonymity.

At last he came to the very last booth, in the least prestigious location of the whole marketplace.

Marigold Peat broke off from a conversation with a handsome young man and smiled at him.

“There you are, Sergeant! I was hoping you would drop by today. How did my father’s Webleys work?”

The young man stared at him with unabashed adulation. Marigold’s little brother Jerry hopped up from a seat in the back of their booth and raced to the front, too.

Rip smiled at them all as he walked up.

“Hello. They worked fine, I wanted to thank you again.”

He looked over and noticed the largest crowd yet to gather in this part of the market. Most everyone looked away, pretending not to listen.

Rip’s smile grew bigger as he seized on an idea.

He turned back to Marigold and said in a louder voice, “You know, I just wanted to let you know that I think you are the finest arms merchant here. I plan on buying all my weapons from you in the future, exclusively.”

Marigold blushed.

Rip noticed several people running back to the front of the marketplace.

Spreading the news, no doubt.