Breaking Ranks

Braun: Off to the Wreckers

I stood watching for some time as the open-air surgery went on in the Formian Plaza. The man was sawing at a leg as his client gave out great blubbery shrieks. With a bone-splitting crack the sawing finally came to an end. The surgeon was a professional, and showed it by firmly clamping down on the wound even as blood spurted out of it. He stood up after a minute, nodding down in satisfaction at his handiwork.

I had work to be about but I couldn't help but stare, riveted to the spot. It wasn't so very far away that antibiotics and basic hygiene could have treated the wound. We could have even hauled him there ourselves in our cart. And if the leg had to go, he could have had access to all sorts of different prosthetics, depending on how friendly the paranoid holdouts in the Robotics Section were feeling. It made the prospect of risking my own skin down here a very grim one indeed.

The man looked at his saw for a while, shifting it around in the fading light and looking at the gleaming metal, still dripping with blood. "This is getting dull. Alex! How many more do we have today?"

"It looks like just one more," his assistant replied.

Beside the operating area was a man with several wooden chairs with wheels crudely attached. He must have been a carpenter or wheelwright or some such before the war, but he was also clearly an entrepreneur and called out at the maimed man as he was half-dragged to the side by the surgeon's assistant and a boy in leather armor.

The boy paused, digging in his pockets for some time before producing a few coins. He haggled with the man, who looked skeptical. The boy even had the cheek to point at the next grim-faced customer, standing with a flopping arm strapped to his body, and seemed to be constructing a case about the limited demand. After a while the entrepreneur eventually gave in, and helped the boy lift the sobbing man into the most ill-fashioned chair of the bunch.

I realized that I was wasting time now, and looked away from the grisly scene just as the surgeon's apprentice tossed the leg into a growing pile of limbs.

"Next!" he shouted, but I was away by then, moving through the narrow alleys of Sandstone to the abandoned building that faced the Imperial embassy. It was a risk, of sorts, coming back to the scene of the crime. But Vikalia wanted me to keep an eye on their movements before our departure, which the trader informed me could be as soon as next morning.

And so I hauled my supplies up to the balcony of the building, a heavy crate of materials valuable to any spy. This would ensure my watch could be carried out in a vigilant and uninterrupted manner. The balcony was ruined, a mess of rubble, but I wedged myself on some shattered stone and squinted out at the embassy across the plaza. It seemed the rope had been cut away.

I opened my crate of valuable materials and helped myself to one of the beers. As an afterthought, I pulled my snooper device out of my pocket, and settled back to wait as it began scanning for electronic frequencies. As it happened, I didn't have to wait long, and was midway through my second beer when the snooper device began to beep. I sat up and began checking for a false signal. But no, that was them alright, and on a voice transmission. Hastily, I dug out my earbuds and began to listen in.

The Imperial Observer was recounting something, and I cursed to myself as I rummaged through my pack to find my data slate. A few hurried swipes and commands later, a hastily composed written message, and before long Central was tapping in as well. I leaned back, drank deeply, and continued my diligent espionage work as the Imperial Observer relayed a report in clipped regal tones.

"Senator, gang violence has increased since the siege began. One of our local informants was even found dead yesterday. Perhaps we should leave on a high note."

"Do you have any idea who might have committed this murder?" An unfamiliar voice asked. He was clearly of some importance in the Inner Core and I thrilled to hear it. I even paused from popping the top of my third beer, I was just that excited. That's the level of dedication I put into my work.

"There's a black marketeer by the name of Felgor who seems to have his toughs out. A big brute, and some hired muscle. Commoner scum, and a few of the decommissioned levies. There have been a few boys skulking about." He paused for a moment, as if uncertain how to proceed. "We believe one of them even broke into the embassy while we were away."

"Oh, that is not good. That is not good at all. Could he have been a spy?"

"No, no. He was a cowardly sort, and the maid chased him off. Said he had the stink of the gutter about him." My mouth gaped open and I found that I had dropped my beer in my aggrieved shock and dismay. "He stole a statue. I sent word around that there's an award for it. The thief to be drawn and quartered."

I reflected on the dubious wisdom of keeping the statue tucked away in the middle of the pile of sweet potatoes. Perhaps I could blame the trader, if it came to it? A weaker sort might have quailed at the thought but I was a man of decisive action and soon decided on this as my course of action, should this come to pass.

It was on this day that I received the most welcome of news, while going over the regular check-in. I delivered another series of nothing much, and it seemed like Vikalia had gotten the point pretty early on, because she cut me off just a minute in.

"Fine, fine. You can go over it more once you're back up. We've been having problems with the Wreckers lately and the Senate has decided to send an emissary. Close up shop so you can leave tomorrow morning. We'll get an escort for you."

I gave a heavy sigh that, I have to admit, was impossible to force down.

"I am glad to hear it. Ah, shame about the Wreckers, that is. Well I am sure that I'll be able to straighten things out."

"Indeed. You've made it clear that Sandstone's a mess. We'll abandon the embassy. Destroy any important documents. It could be damaging if anyone might get a hold on them."

"Righto!" I said, already savoring the taste of real food.

I was done mucking about down here.