《Hodgepodge》The Machinist 3
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Zachariah eased the throttle to neutral so the cart floated in place as he joined a long
line heading into Messer’s Reach. The kids had been lulled to sleep by the vibration
of the machine.
He watched the guards check the drivers and wagons before they were cleared to go
inside the walls. He knew his cart didn’t have any hollow features for them to check.
He supposed he should make sure they didn’t stick their hands in the suction.
He floated the cart up to the gate as gently as possible. He glanced in the back. Bolan
and Sola were still asleep. Hardy rested in Sola’s arms. If anything happened, the
insect might batter the guards out of the way with its hardened shell body.
He would have to push the throttle wide open to take advantage and crash the gate
before someone tried to stop him.
“Welcome to Messer’s Reach,” said one of the guards. “What is your name and the
purpose of your visit?”
“Zachariah Eight Arms, and I am here to consult with the great library about
improving my cart,” said Zachariah. “This is Sola, my daughter, and this is Bolan, my
ward. We’re hoping to find work while I do my research.”
“You’re from Riordiana?,” asked the guard.
“Yes,” said Zachariah. He supposed everyone wanted to know what had happened to
his city.
“The Riordianan Ambassador left a request that any of his countrymen should be
directed to the embassy if they arrived,” said the guard. “Do you know how to get
there?”
“I’ll take them, bud,” said Geoff Cantrell, riding his slow horse up to the head of the
line. “Geoff Cantrell, I am passing through to Baldwin, then Corwin’s Mansions, then
parts further northeast, but I haven’t decided where yet.”
“And you do know where the embassy is?,” said the guard. He gave Geoff a skeptical
look.
“I just saved these people from some bandits,” said Geoff. “I think I can escort them
to where they have to be.”
“He did do that,” said Zachariah. “The bandits fled after he showed them who was
boss.”
“The ambassador might be able to fix you up with some lodging for your stay,” said
the guard. He wrote out three passes. “Keep these with you at all times. Unless
something happens, when the time is up, you will be expected to leave in three days.”
“Thank you,” said Zachariah. He put the three passes in his boot. “I appreciate it.”
“Sorry about your city,” said the guard. He waved the cart and horse through the gate.
Geoff waved at the guards as he kicked his horse into a slight trot to get in the wall
and out of the line. He steered the horse through the local beggars who fled the cart
as it followed.
The wandering knight led the way to a house with a central courtyard. Zachariah
recognized the design from his youth. If someone went after the gate, people could
climb the wall and repel them.
Mostly it was daemons doing the repelling and the means were not pleasant from
what he had heard.
A doorman stood by the opened door to give people access to the central courtyard.
If someone managed to knock down the main door, daemons above them and in
position in front of them would be able to inflict greater injuries depending on what
was used.
A lava type would put a stop to most people’s shenanigans.
“I’m going to keep riding,” said Geoff. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”
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“Thank you for your help,” said Zachariah. “I would have never had found this place
in the time limit the guards gave us.”
“Sure you would have,” said Geoff. “Someone would have given you directions. I’ll
try to drop in the next time I am in town.”
“My house will always be open,” said Zachariah. He told Hardy to guard the cart and
his daughter before he climbed down from the control seat. He walked over to the
door and pulled a bell rope to be recognized.
A functionary opened the door. He smiled out of habit at seeing a visitor on the door
step. Zachariah didn’t smile back.
“The guards at the gate said the ambassador wanted to see anyone from Riordiana,”
said Zachariah. “Zachariah Eight Arms.”
“Come with me,” said the functionary. “I will get you some tea. The ambassador will
be with you in a moment.”
The functionary led Zachariah to the central court. A small table and chairs had been
set up so you could watch the fish in the carved pond in the pavered floor. He studied
the fish but felt they weren’t daemons.
Zachariah felt the ambassador had contact with Riordiana, or what was at Riordiana.
He should already know about the destruction of the city, and what had happened
afterward. Why interview people who were reaching Messer’s Reach almost two
years later.
The door to the courtyard opened. A wider man than the functionary appeared. He
wore a suit of gray and black. His hair had decided that it mostly didn’t want anything
to do with the knobby head he possessed and jumped ship.
“I’m Campbell,” said the ambassador. “Would you like some tea and biscuits?”
“My daughter is waiting for me,” said Zachariah. “The guard said you put a request
for people to talk to you.”
“The king and the council are still trying to figure out what happened, and how to
combat it in the future,” said Campbell. “They are collecting survivor reports in hopes
of learning the origin of whatever it was that attacked the city.”
“It was creature pulled from the Abyss,” said Zachariah. “I don’t know if the
summoner survived the summoning, or what Festus did later, but I do know what I
saw. I’m sure that Festus got a clear look at it when he destroyed the city.”
“How sure are you of that?,” asked the Ambassador.
“I am positive of what I saw,” said Zachariah. “It was a tower of black flesh with eyes
and tentacles and things moving on it. My daughter and I had been buried in my
workshop when it appeared in the central district. My wife was killed defending us.”
“How did you get to Messer’s Reach?,” asked Campbell.
“My daughter and I have worked odd jobs to get here so I could consult the Grand
Library,” said Zachariah. “There was nothing tying us to my work shop since it was
destroyed with the rest of the city.”
“I understand,” said Campbell. “They have partially rebuilt the city in the ocean since
you’ve been gone. Bridges have been built to the mainland so trade can resume.
Hunters have cleared the odd creatures out of the land surrounding where the old city
once stood.”
“Those bat things?,” said Zachariah.
“Those and some other things that came across when the main horror was
summoned,” said Campbell. “Word reached here after the initial event and I was
ordered to stay in place and gather any reports from any survivors. They have mostly
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been the same with the loss of flying daemons and their riders, complete loss of the
city to a terror beyond words, and then the king destroying the land. Messengers have
kept me appraised of conditions back home.”
“What if the summoner is still alive?,” said Zachariah. “He might try again.”
“Access to the island is restricted from what I hear,” said Campbell. “Only our people
are allowed to land there. Everyone else is directed to the new harbor.”
Zachariah nodded. That would make it harder for another attack, but not impossible.
All it would take was one man determined enough to get through the defenses. Then
he could wipe out the new city just as effectively as the old.
“You said your workshop fell on top of you and your daughter?,” said Campbell.
“Where was your workshop?”
“It stood in the middle of Aurora Avenue, about fifty to sixty feet from the Central
Square,” said Zachariah. “I’m a machinist, and worked on designs for buildings and
boats.”
“How’s your daughter?,” asked Campbell.
“She’s fine,” said Zachariah. “She has been helping me with the odd jobs I have
picked up.”
“I have been arranging work tickets for our people to stay here in the city beyond
their three days,” said Campbell. “Ask Leonard for one when you leave.”
“Thank you,” said Zachariah. “Are you going back?”
“My posting will be up in a few years,” said Campbell. “I will probably be asked to
serve somewhere else at the discretion of the king.”
“If you want some honest work, I will be glad to have you,” said Zachariah. “It was
a pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure was all mine,” said Campbell. “I have some functions I have to attend
to for the local government, but the door is always open.”
Zachariah nodded. He walked to the exit from the garden. He almost smiled. At least
the city had reclaimed its land and the harbor for trade. It could be prosperous again
even after the devastating attack he had witnessed.
He could do the same thing if he worked hard enough.
He met the functionary on the way to the door. The man stood there with hands
behind his back.
“Are you Leonard?,” Zachariah asked.
“Yes,” said the functionary.
“I’m supposed to get a work permit from you,” said Zachariah.
“I have one right here,” said Leonard. He handed over a card made of blue fiber.
“Don’t lose it.”
“I’ll be setting up a workshop,” said Zachariah. “If you need anything fixed, come by
and get me once I have it going.”
“It will be my pleasure,” said Leonard. “Take care, sir.”
“Thanks,” said Zachariah. He walked out of the front doors and headed down to the
cart resting on its skids. They still needed a place to live, and a way to improve the
cart so it was practical.
They needed a place they could use for their workshop as well as living quarters
unless they combined the two. He thought about it as he climbed into his seat. He
started the engine and let the jet whine up before he pushed the throttle down.
Pedestrians pointed at him as he drove through town. He supposed they had never
seen a cart like his before. He knew that Messer’s Reach was known for
advancements in science and magic. Someone must have thought of his idea before
this.
He needed a place to stay for himself and his kids. Campbell hadn’t really pointed out
a place for him to go. Perhaps he should ask a guard for help.
And he realized he didn’t know where the grand library was either.
He laughed softly at himself. He had planned so much on just getting to the walled
city. He had given no thought on what to do when he got there.
He should have at least done more than listen to people on the road.
He decided the best thing he could do was try to find a place where he could park the
cart, build a workshop around it, and add on sleeping quarters for himself and the
children. He needed something like a warehouse.
He couldn’t rent one. He needed one that was unused and derelict. He could fix the
building to suit his needs if most of the interior was still there.
The daemons would have to do most of the work like they had been doing, but they
were patient about things, and had no problem in that regard. For every piece of wire,
or shaft, created by Gold Bug, Hardy and Knife had to put it in place, or hold things
so they could be put together.
Putting a roof, or part of a wall, together shouldn’t be that much of a problem for the
three daemons working together.
Something howled on Zachariah’s left. He glanced that way, expecting to see a
hideous tower of flesh ripping up the city. He blinked and saw that a metal cart was
pulling a line of boxes behind it inside the wall.
He smiled. It was the city’s famous train. He wouldn’t mind looking at that. It might
help him with his own design problems.
He didn’t want a place near its path. The noise would keep him from thinking about
what he should be doing.
But it would be nice to have a place that he could watch the train in action when he
wanted.
That would make it easier to make design notes and fix problems that arose while he
worked on his own ideas.
“What was that?,” asked Bolan. “It sounded huge.”
“It’s the train,” said Zachariah. “It’s what we’re going to be measuring our future
carts against.”
“That was a loud noise, Da,” said Sola. She stretched out her arms. “I know, Hardy.
Just a little longer.”
“I’m looking for a place we can stay without having to pay any money,” said
Zachariah. “It has to be some place no one else wants so we can work in peace, and
do odd jobs on the side while we experiment.”
“I’ll send Hardy out, Da,” said Sola. “He can find us a place faster than we will just
driving around town.”
“All right,” said Zachariah. “Hardy, we need a space a bit bigger than my workshop
back home, no matter the condition, not too close to the train.”
“Find it, Hardy,” said Sola. “We’ll be looking from here.”
The bug jetted into the sky. He zoomed above the roofs of the white brick and plain
glass buildings. He vanished after a few seconds.
He returned a few seconds later, circling over the cart. He led the way through the
city, making allowances for the cart to travel on the streets below. He picked one
building in the middle of some others that looked in better shape.
“What does the sign say, Da?,” asked Sola. She pointed at a piece of wood nailed to
the door of the place.
“Condemned,” said Zachariah. “Shall we look it over?”
“Doesn’t Condemned mean unlivable?,” asked Bolan.
“It does,” said Zachariah. “I hope to renovate the property and turn it into my
workshop. And we’ll need a place to live if we want to stay here and improve the
cart.”
“Can we just take over a building?,” asked Bolan.
“I don’t see why not,” said Zachariah. “Let’s look inside. Leave the sign up so no one
thinks about coming inside while we’re working.”
They climbed out of the cart. Zachariah pulled the door open. It about fell off in his
hands. He shook his head at the nearly destroyed hinges. He led the way inside the
building and looked at everything.
It would take a lot of work to get set up, but this could be the place they needed. His
mental list of repairs stretched on without stopping as he assessed everything.
“This place is a wreck,” said Bolan. “How are we going to fix this up?”
“The first thing we’re going to need to do is clean all this debris out,” said Zachariah.
“Then we can think of a way to replace the roof. Then we can do the minor things.”
“Like replace the door?,” said Bolan.
“Like replace the door,” said Zachariah. He looked around the wide empty shell once
more. “Now that we have a potential home, maybe we can get something to eat.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Bolan.
“Food would be good, but not here,” said Sola. “Let’s clean the place up before we
try to eat in here.”
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Mo'arka e karbala
BISMILLAH HIR-RAHMAN NIR-RAHIM. Assalamu alaikum wa rahmatullah; Duniya me aise bahot se waqiyat aur haadse guzre hain jo insaniyat aur sharafat ke naam par badnuma daag hain. Jin ki yaad kuch waqt tak baqi rehti hai phir khatm ho jati hai.Lekin HAADSA-E-KARBALA ek aisa dard naak waqiya hai, aur is me aisi darindgi aur wehshi pan tha ke is ki yaad zamana bhi na mita saka. Balki aaj 1350 saal guzarne par bhi is ki yaad taaza hai.Is ki wajah ye hai ki Hazrat Imam Husain(r.a) ne dashte karbala me jis sabr, shuja'at aur himmat ka sabut diya hai, us ki nazir(misal) nahi milti. Aap par intehai be-rehmana aur wehshiyana zulm kiye gaye. lekin Aap ne sachai ka sath nahi chhoda, ALLAH SUB'HANAHU ko Aap ki mazlumi, be-kasi, aur be-chargi aisi pasand aai ke Aap ka zikr baaki rakha aur In sha ALLAH qayamat tak baaqi rahega.Bhook pyas ki shiddat, azizon ki maut ka sadma, aurton ki be-hurmati ka khayal ye sab baatain sabr aazma thi. Magar Aap ne har sadma har taklif ko bardasht kiya. Aap kis daur se guzar rahe honge is ka andaza lagana bhi mushkil hai. Yaqinan ye waqiya dil toh kya ruh tak ko jhinjod kar rakh dene wala hai, Lekin logon ne is ki Asliyat ko nahi samjha ya toh Husn-e-aqidat me doob kar asliyat ka inkaar karne lage. Logon ne aisi riwayatein gadhli hain jinka koi wajud hi nahi tha.Is qisse "Mo'arka-e-karbala" ko Husne aqidat se likha gaya hai, is me koi andhi taqlid ya gair taarikhi waaqiya shamil nahi hai. Balki jahan tak mumkin hosaka hai galat riwayaton ki tardid ki gai hai. Hamara maqsad logon ko sahi waqiyat se waqif karana hai. "Ma'arka-e-karbala" Author: Maulana Muhammad Sadiq Husain Sardhanvi.Aap tak pahonchane ki koshish : ف۔ش۔
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