The next several weeks passed in a blur of work. Most days he only even walked outside for a few minutes a day, for fun, and about an hour of slow running in a big circle around the compound that sprung up almost without him knowing about it. His little shack had been dwarfed instantly, a structure nearly ten times the size being put up the next day as a practice barracks. Then a shower and bath house, which Rolph shamelessly stole all the remaining water heaters for and some of the longer range pumps, to water could be taken directly from the stream out back.
Tor explained what they needed for an oven, and given the ease of building and the desire to keep practicing, a structure was built that probably would make good in-roads to feeding those two thousand people at the real base. He got a wall too, after he asked, one that left him with a compound about as large inside as the palace complex was. The wall was about five feet thick and nearly twenty-five high. So an interior space bigger than the whole of Two Bends, including the Smith’s big orchards. Overdone for his personal house, but the guys needed to practice doing something.
He made the heater for the oven one night after bed time, sacrificing sleep, so that they could set it to running the next day. It took two full days to get up to good baking temperature, because the oven was vast, easily the biggest thing like it he’d ever even heard of, but as designed, the field held the temperature exactingly steady after that.
Tor was kind of proud of that little piece of work. It got to the right temperature and held it no matter what. No more, no less. Given the warming time needed, they just left it on day and night. Luckily it was well away from any of the other buildings, so the heat didn’t bother anyone. Summer would still suck in there if he didn’t get some other temperature controls in place, but he had a little time for that.
After the first two weeks they ran out of new building projects to do, but had more and more people coming in for training, so Tor requested they redeem his word and send a crew down to County Ward to build the wall around Ellen’s place. He also sent the crew of ten young men, most not much older than he was, with the building dryers he’d come up with and a pump for her water tank, so that poor old Georges wouldn’t get stuck doing it by hand for all of them the whole time. He added in some lights and a freezer box plate with instructions for use with them too, just because it seemed like a nice thing to do. The man in charge of the cohort assured him he could build it without trouble.
It became a grind after that, the highlight of his day being when he got to work on other almost new designs for things. It took three days for him to come up with the more delicate manual controls for the earth compressors, but the men that used them said had been worth it. Well, they told Rolph. Tor was too busy to chat mainly.
They could make smaller objects then, some nice furniture and doors that sat on real hinges. Even plates and cups started showing up after that, all in a shining red-black stone looking material. Tor would have liked to try using one himself, but he had too much to do for anything that fun or interesting. Far too much.
For every one thing he did, he got “requests” for ten more devices, some of them interesting, but being novel they’d have to wait. Most of them were downright boring and repetitive work for the military. For instance they wanted to try lights for working at night, that each man could carry. He already had the field and could make them pretty easily now, nearly a hundred and eighty per day without missing any sleep. The military asked for a thousand of them. Just for the initial testing.
As badly as they wanted flying rigs, the shields were even more important in their eyes. Oddly, they requested no new weapons from him at all. Not even the force lances or lighter versions of the explosives he’d made before. He didn’t bother asking about it. If they thought they needed it, they probably wouldn’t hesitate. They hadn’t about anything else so far.
Room temperature plates for soldiers all over the kingdom, personal temperature equalizers for the desert and cold north regions and even a hundred faster versions of the Not-flyer, that some general thought might be useful in ground combat.
Well, Tor reflected, they were a lot easier to learn to use than the flying rigs, and were faster than running. You could very nearly just hand one to a person and explain the controls then send them out without practice it was so simple.
The only good part about the whole thing, other than the free room and board, was that he didn’t have a lot of extra time to dwell on Trice and how much that whole thing still hurt. At the beginning of the second month Tor finally got Rolph to tell everyone that came in that he’d be out of touch for a few days, possibly longer. Sitting on the halfway comfortable pile of pillows that had grown around him on the floor over the last month to take the place of a bed, Tor started building the more powerful earth moving field. It wasn’t that hard, just a larger field to do what he already had something for. It just needed to be about a thousand times stronger. That was all. It sounded like a big deal, but either all the practice he’d gotten making the smaller ones, or just the fact that his brain found it easier to work now than not, allowed him to have the new unit ready inside four days. He kind of thought it would be longer. A lot longer.
As had become his habit, since most of the things he made worked the first time, even if some of them needed to be improved on later, like the original shield, he made up ten of the devices instantly when he was done. As chance would have it, it was just about lunch time when he was ready to get out and test it, which meant the sun beating down, blinding him a little and making him squint painfully for about ten minutes while his eyes adjusted. Tor had lights inside, but they weren’t this bright.
Half a dozen of them flew about two miles away from the compound for the testing, just because no one really could see the need for a giant hole or trench right there, plus, even if this worked right, it could still be a mess.
It was.
It worked just the same as the smaller one, except that it kicked up a cloud of dust due to the fact that it had to throw the dirt a lot farther away just for the whole thing to work. Otherwise it would have just dropped the dirt back in the hole being dug, which would have made the thing virtually useless. With a shield on it worked fine. Perfectly in fact.
He just wouldn’t want to try it without a shield or while standing on the ground anywhere near it. He made a ditch, about the size of a middling stream and about a quarter of a mile long. It took about two minutes. That, he decided appraisingly, should serve well enough. It even had three settings to control the speed of flow. He’d been using high, but turned it down for testing, just to make sure he hadn’t messed anything up too bad on the other settings. It worked well enough on medium and on low it would probably be even safe to use like a normal one on the ground, but about ten times faster. Well, if there was ever another fire up in Ross or anywhere like it, this would be what he’d take with him. The river of brown and red dirt and rock flying through the air was impressive even. The roar it gave off kind of frightened him a little, but Tor tried to play it cool, so no one else would panic. If any of the other men felt the same way they didn’t let it show, so it was probably just him.
It would do. It kind of had to, because the second they got back, literally standing on his doorstep was not one, but three, high ranking officials asking for more fields. Or it sounded that way from what Tor could understand. Two of them were trying to talk over each other. Both looked a bit put out by the other too. Because of course they should each be going first.
“Um, well… It’s going to be a bit. I have to make some rivers and, you know, sleep some time soon. But I’ll try to get right on those…” Tor had no clue what the men wanted at all. Floundering he looked around until one of them, a man that looked vaguely familiar, spoke. He’d been at the meeting about the war… Tor drew a blank as to the name though. All he could recall him as was loud map pointer guy.
“Water transport over long distances? That would be helpful. You mentioned water before, and we relocated the base by a river, good call by the way, but the nearly three thousand people we have in training now are using a lot more water than we’d thought originally. This time of year that river is more like a fairly small stream and we have to let the men wash regularly, or else they’ll get sick.”
That made sense. He’d seen similar things in some of the larger families back home. If even one of them was less than clean, everyone could end up ill, especially in the close and cold months of winter when bathing was a freezing hazard and tended to be sketchy even among the dedicated.
“Wait, you added a thousand extra trainees?”
“Well, yes. The council of counts felt that since you obviously can produce the greater numbers of devices we’ll need, it only made sense to add more candidates. Right now we’re only accepting applications from the elite forces however, so it’s felt that at best we should be able to double or triple the amount of trained personnel.”
If he dropped these men into the pit that he’d just dug and buried them, then compacted the earth over the spot for a mile or so, no one would ever find the bodies. He stared for a while and then casually turned to Rolph and said this out loud. He was kidding, but only just. Didn’t they understand how hard, and worse, boring, all this copy work was?
Not at all. Then why would they? They weren’t the ones doing it. Tor sighed and shook his head. Right. Well, he had to do what he could to support the war effort, but seriously, sleep on occasion would be nice. Oh so nice…
The man next to the first put in a request for as many lights as Tor could make. No time limit, no upper cap. Just lights. The goal was to get one to every man in the military, not just the King’s service, but even the County troops, in case night attacks came from the Austrans. The man wasn’t fat, but had that obnoxious kind of beefiness that some men got from a sense of entitlement, taking just a bit more than their actual share at the table each time. His blue uniform had bright red trim and shiny buttons of silver that were probably supposed to look impressive, but made him look like a children’s entertainer instead. Tor decided not to like him. They wanted a half million lights or more? From him, personally? That was… insane.
The final man was short. Only an inch or two taller than he was and maybe in his mid-twenties by look. Instead of asking for something first, he stuck out his right hand and shook country fashion, leaning in from a good ways away, nearly six foot, as was proper when you didn’t already know someone. He wore a nice outfit of heavy canvas that reminded Tor a bit of student browns, except that it was a deep green that pushed into the territory normally held by black. If the others in the group looked a little scary or obnoxious, this man looked efficient, and like he was supposed to be out in the middle of nowhere like this, not getting ready to walk into an audience with the King himself. The properly sized man grinned.
“I’m not here to ask for anything, just thought I’d stop by and say hi. I’m, well it gets complicated, but basically, for all intents and purposes, I’m your uncle. Dan Green. Laurie is my vastly younger sister by the way. By about three hundred years. Dad asked me to handle this little war thing for him and represent County Lairdgren in the council and all that. Finds all this war talk tedious. I can see you’re busy, but remember not to work yourself to death. Trust me; you have time to do things later. If you get a chance, in a few months or so, come by the Capital at Grenwyn and visit your family. Everyone’s curious about the fabled Tor already. Of course I can see why. I was warned, but… Yes, you really do look exactly like him, don’t you?”
“Um, not to sound brilliant, but whom am I supposed to look like?”
Uncle Dan grinned.
“Your grandfather. My dad? Your both… well, I’ll let him explain it, but let’s just say that you have his looks. More closely than anyone could really describe fairly. Don’t let it worry you. I’m sure you’ll both get along famously.”
His smile widened and his eye twinkled as he said all this. Tor just had to thank him, very humbly, and with real feeling, for not asking for anything. It was probably just from being tired, but for a brief moment he really felt like running away and hiding somewhere that no one would be able to find him. The men went away then, laughing, after Rolph told them that he’d been awake and working for nearly four days and so had Tor, and that work had been harder than the Prince getting water and food by far.
“So, not to be rude, but go away. Shew. Shew. Don’t make me… Well, I’m too tired right now to think of something not to make me do, but I’m sure you can all come up with something appropriately menacing.” He pointed a finger towards the little group and gave them a playful look that said he wasn’t really kidding, even though he was.
Dan Green chuckled and started to walk away, calling out for them to not be strangers. The man seemed nice enough at least. Tor hadn’t even known he had an uncle on that side of the family. Then again, what he knew about that side of the family ended at them all mainly having two arms, two legs and a head. That and they weren’t all overly huge.
The pillow nest in the back left hand corner invited him and he couldn’t resist it, falling asleep so fast that he kind of surprised himself. It was light when he woke up, but when he stumbled outside he saw that it was morning and not sundown at all as he’d half wondered when he first saw it. The little hut he’d built, the size of a decent house really, kept out all the light from outside, cave dark he liked to call it when they turned the lights off. It still didn’t have a front door, just his windy privacy entrance, so he nearly walked into Sara as he came out.
She stood there looking anxious, her hair had been cut a lot shorter than he’d seen it before and looked lighter in color. It was cute on her, but he didn’t comment on it, not sure if he was still mad at the girl or not. Tor looked around, first for Trice and then for the trap. He didn’t actually see either one, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there. No matter what else, Trice was crafty and could probably think four steps ahead of him in intrigue. He was still sleepy after all, so maybe more than that. On the good side women were so rare here that you could spot them in the distance just by how they walked. She stared at him shocked. He couldn’t imagine why though. It was, for lack of a better term, his house. Why shouldn’t he be there?
“Tor! My god, what have they been doing to you? You look… Half dead to tell the truth. Have they been starving you or something?” She blurted all this, her voice sounding concerned as if it were a real emotion for her and not an act.
He didn’t say anything for a long time. Watching carefully he kind of wondered how the men had let her get past the fence line, or more likely, since she wore a flying rig, over it. They…
What were they supposed to do? Jeer at her menacingly? They had a few weapons, but nothing that would touch her if she wore the shield he’d last given her and she was a moron if she wasn’t, with a war on and all.
Tilting his head he regarded her carefully.
“Someone had to take up the slack that Debri house left in the orders. What the hell is with that? The whole retooling barely coming up with two hundred fifty units per month on the flyers? About four hundred shields? You should be doing that per day. Or… I don’t know, are you guys hiding them or selling them at inflated prices to the black market or something? The military said they’re still willing to pay the same for them, no matter how many are produced, so I don’t think it’s a great strategy if you’re sitting on them. Plus, with the war, we all need to be doing whatever we can, not worrying about making gold, yeah?” He didn’t really expect her to answer him. On the good side, unlike that last time they met, he didn’t sound angry, just exhausted. At least part of that was because he hadn’t really woken up yet for the day. If she had a problem with that, she could try showing up at a more appropriate time. Not that he really could call this early, since it was light out.
She blinked rapidly, changing thoughts in mid stream if he still recognized the look. If he’d ever really known what it meant to begin with. His eyes finally focusing he noticed that the hair cut wasn’t the only thing that had changed. Instead of student brown, or in her case black, she wore a dark leather outfit, a brown that should have been so dark as to look black, but was scuffed and covered with dust so as to look a much lighter. She had soft looking boots that hit past her ankles, also dyed to match the outfit she wore, but made, he saw, of heavy material, only the soles were leather, or at least something like it.
“Tor… only you would look at the largest device manufacturing effort in history and put it down as not good enough. Just because you can work yourself to death and past it like this over and over again doesn’t mean regular people can. Anyway, I didn’t come to talk business… I came to see my friend…”
That got his attention.
Of course, he hadn’t been thinking about anyone else in all this, just himself and Trice. Rolph and Sara hadn’t been able to hang out for months because of him making her go away. It had been a little thoughtless and cruel of him. Well, a lot more than just a bit. Duh. Well, he could fix that.
“Right. One moment. I’ll get him.”
Rolph woke up grumpily, throwing a pillow at Tor that hit him in the head, uncannily accurate considering the plates had only been turned on enough to dimly light the cavernous space within the hut. Laughing Tor jumped in and grabbed an over-sized arm, pulling on his friend to very little effect.
“Hey, you have a visitor! Get up before she goes away and you’re stuck with only me for company again today.” He added in a few playful pokes to the ribs just for good measure. Rolph didn’t like to get up sometimes and had to be prodded into it.
It was enough to get his attention and only three minutes later he stumbled out into the bright light. He straightened up and smiled when he saw who stood waiting for him. The wall of red hair and lanky muscle slid towards the girl smoothly, taking her up in a hug that was returned joyfully enough. As they made happy sounds at each other Tor made his way off to the restroom that everyone staying at the little compound shared. It was big enough for about twenty people, but they never had more than a half dozen around at any one time now. Most of those were just people coming in for a single night to pick up devices or make materials deliveries.
They had a cook too, or at least he thought they did. He’d never seen the man, or woman, but the food had suddenly gotten a lot better a few weeks back and stayed that way. Not palace level maybe, but not hunks of day old bread and hard cheese either. It was also just possible that someone flew food in from the Capital instead of wasting a whole cook just on them. He hadn’t asked, because there really didn’t seem to be any reason too. They had food, it was good enough.
He went to his little cabinet in the bathing area, a separate facility from the restrooms and took out some clothes and his cleaning gear. The other men had to keep their clothes locked up, so that people wouldn’t “borrow” it when they ran out of clean clothing between wash days. Tor didn’t have to worry about that yet, even though someone had brought him a shipment of nice things, silk and soft leather stuff, along with a pile of much more practical green canvas that he suspected came from Dan Green or that side of the family, since it looked like the outfit that man had worn. No one else could have fit in his stuff, not here at least.
Not wanting to make a poor impression, since Sara was likely to tell Trice about how bad he looked anyway, Tor made a point of dressing nicely. Not the best clothes he had, but a nice deep green silk shirt, leather trousers and a vest that nearly matched the pants. He had to slip the soft brown shoes back on, because they were what he had. It was the best he could manage, even if the face in the mirror didn’t look good enough to go out in public. Tor shook his head and stopped the thought in place.
That wasn’t really fair he knew. He looked normal enough, thin and small maybe, but he had clear skin and good teeth, his hair was longer than it had been, but not so much that anyone would think he was a girl yet or anything like that. He certainly wasn’t any worse looking than average, just smaller and that only here.
All the people that came through were those that had flying rigs and that meant, by and large, royals or military elite. Both groups tended to be tall.
Taking a big breath and letting it out with a blubbering of lips he walked back to his hut. If he was lucky Sara would have taken off already and he wouldn’t have to talk to her. He really didn’t want to go over everything and discuss how he felt. It should be clear that he felt bad. Other than that, what did it matter, since he couldn’t do anything about the situation at all?
Well, he had work to do anyway, so at least there was that. If you can’t be happy, be busy.
Sara and Rolph weren’t out front of the hut when he got there, so he walked in wondering if they’d gone inside to talk and wait for him.
In the low light he saw instantly that they weren’t talking at least. Blushing he backed out of the room. There had been too little clothing in that scene for his mind to really process, but he had a general sense of what they were doing. Definitely not chatting.
Fine, but did it have to be done in his work space? Not, he knew, that they had anywhere else to do it, but… He felt jealous and a flash of bitterness passed over him for a few moments. Tor worked himself half to death and what did he get? More work.
Rolph sat and brought him water and food occasionally and had women showing up to do things that they’d never even consider doing with Tor. It softened the blow a little that Rolph was the Prince and heir, of course women would want him, but Tor had an odd feeling that it would have been happening if Rolph just been a merchants son too. His big friend had always been popular, even with people that didn’t know he was the Prince of anything. Tor on the other hand, had always been avoided by women, or at least ignored. Unless they wanted something from him.
Well. Tor didn’t know what to do, but figured that he shouldn’t go back for at least an hour and even then he did he should probably call out first. Sara was good looking, but seeing Rolph’s hairy butt pumping in the air didn’t thrill him at all. The image hovered in front of his eyes still, burnt in place in a fashion that it wouldn’t have been if it Tor had wanted to remember it. He sighed and started wondering around. He wasn’t dressed for running and didn’t feel like changing yet, and while he could eat it was likely a bit before any food would be ready, early as it was. So, instead, he walked around looking at what had sprung up when he wasn’t paying attention.
The big buildings made sense for the most part, barracks, a dining hall, furniture shop and so on. Tor chuckled then. They had a furniture shop right here, but he didn’t have any furniture? Couldn’t they at least lend him some? Walking in he saw that no one was working yet, since it was early and nothing probably really started until after breakfast. There was a sheet that was put up for people to request furniture pieces or things for different buildings. Tor blinked. There were a lot more than a half dozen names on the list. Were they covering other places too? Or, could it be that the buildings hid a lot more people than he’d thought? He hadn’t been getting out much and most of his runs had taken place near dinner time. Heh, yeah that could skew his idea of how many people were about.
He looked around for a while, seeing how the place had been laid out. Tor noticed that there was a large stack of completed furniture near the back of the space, a rectangle that must have been a hundred feet long and nearly fifty foot wide, as well as a large pile of dirt off to one side. There was a little door that they used to bring the dirt in he saw, only a few feet across and about five feet off the floor, just above his eye level.
A long work table made of the compressed dirt had been set up with six of the compressors on little flat tables in front of the bigger one. It had large boxes about six inches deep all the way along, about five foot square. It took a second, but Tor got the idea after noticing that there was dirt in each one. You kind of drew what you wanted with the compressor in the dirt, then put the pieces together with more dirt, like how he’d joined the roof onto the hut. Kind of like gluing wood to make furniture. Only way stronger, as well as much faster. No drying time for one thing.
Picking up one of the variable compressors he put the small square of copper, marked with three light green acid etched arrows that all pointed inward and started to turn it on before he realized that he needed a plan first, or he’d just be wasting dirt and making a mess. Quickly he sketched out a chair back, seat and legs, using a measuring stick that sat next to the table to make certain he got it the right size. It was just a basic chair, sized to him, but he did make the back rounded at the top. He made the back and seat both an inch thick and the legs two inch squares. It would be heavy, but it wouldn’t break easily. He also made the seat extra wide, so that he could sit in it with his legs crossed. It was a comfortable way for him to sit, if not proper. His chair, his rules, right?
Just as he finished the last of the legs someone walked in, a man, not royal, but still about a foot taller than he was, if Tor could judge such things based on looks, who wore a workman’s drab shirt and brown pants. He was clean shaven and looked to be in his mid-thirties. Reddish brown hair that was shorter than Tor’s, a military cut that reminded him he should go get his own hair done soon and a look on his face that seemed more than a little angry.
“What,” the man growled, sounding like he was about to physically harm someone. “In the thirty-seven hells, do you think you’re doing?”
“Um, making a chair?” Tor pointed to the pieces and started pulling them out slowly, thinking that one of the heavy legs would make a good enough weapon if he had to fight. He didn’t have any amulets on at all, since he’d been working so much he’d gotten used to not wearing them. The man stalked towards him and glanced at what was being laid out on the table.
“Oh. Well, it’s a little rough… Not too bad though. Done this before?” The man’s voice softened a little as he closed and took everything in.
Tor set the leg down next to the others and shook his head.
“I haven’t gotten to try these out yet, I’ve been too busy. I did a little construction, so I get the basic idea, how to make the joins and all. Just killing time really…”
The man grinned.
“Ah, so you’re the new guy? The one they’ve sent to do shipments for us? A little young, but if you can fly and run the cargo floats, we can get them loaded for you. How old are you anyway? Fourteen?”
Sighing Tor started to try and balance the seat on the legs, which got the man to laugh. He moved in and put the seat, smooth and nearly black, looking like it was made of glass almost, flat on the table, set a small pile of dirt in the corners and had Tor compress each while holding the legs in place one by one. It took about a minute for all four. It was a good trick.
“No, a little older than that. Seventeen. Nearly eighteen now.” Tor, a quick study turned the chair so that it sat flat on the ground and added four little piles of dirt where the spokes of the back would sit, being careful so that the soil didn’t over lap, since that would leave a bulge and not look very nice.
“Also, I’m not the new delivery person. I think she’s over in the hut, um, occupied with the Prince. At least it makes sense that it would be her. I guess there aren’t that many people that have been flying as long so far. Me, but that doesn’t mean I’m all that good compared to some.”
The chair, as he suspected, was heavy. Not too heavy to carry though. They had a clock on the wall, which showed that he’d been occupied for a little over an hour already, only about half of it making this chair. That was fast. He could probably make another one in less than ten minutes, now that he knew how.
It took a second for him to realize that Godfrey didn’t recognize him, and since it was basically his house, it would be rude to make the man guess. Mainly because he just wouldn’t. After all, if he thought that Tor was the new delivery boy, well… It was still hard to figure out how to let him know. Most people looking at him didn’t think “Builder” they thought things like, “he can scrub the pots for us after dinner”. Or in this case probably wondered if he could be given some menial task like shifting dirt around for the people doing the actual work. Not a bad idea, except that he really didn’t have the time at the moment.
The man, Godfry, asked if the new delivery girl was good looking. He didn’t seem to be asking for the normal reasons, sounding doubtful about the whole thing, so Tor asked why that mattered, curious.
“Well, we have fifty men here, most young, and horny enough that the sheep should be scared, if you get my meaning. Drop an ugly girl in here and she’ll have company every night, two or three men if she wants them, or is even just willing to be a sport about it. A good looking woman means fights breaking out. It wouldn’t be so bad if we had more girls, but with only one… Not a good situation really.”
That… was something Tor had never considered before, He also didn’t know that there were fifty men living around him. How out of it was he?
“Oh, yeah, well she’s pretty, if she’s the right one I mean. Very much so. The Prince’s, um, close friend, so maybe that will help keep people off of her?”
Godfry snorted.
“Not likely. Really that’s worse than if she was dating the lowest private on the base. At least then the other men could have some feeling of hope, like they could score with her too. Prince, General, Captain, or I guess in our case, Wizard, that sort getting the only woman, it’s like a slap in the face to all the men that have nothing for company at night but their hand, you get me?”
Tor could see how it might be a problem. Still, the men could just go into town and find girls there, right? He suggested it to the gruff man who shrugged.
“How? Most of the guys here aren’t flyers and couldn’t get flying rigs for that reason even if they were. We have people building furniture, cisterns and plates, making things and what not in the three shops we have here. It’s near on two hundred miles to the Capital and men only get one or at most two leave days per week.”
And by wagon that would mean about six days travel each way, if they moved fast and didn’t actually stop for anything when they got there. Possibly less, but the roads here weren’t good.
Tor could see the problem there.
“Well, the simple solution would be to just, um, bring in some… industrious women that wanted to make money. Though we may be able to come up with something to get people into town… Let me think about it, all right?”
Godfrey laughed and slapped him on the shoulder.
“Yeah, you and me both. Let me know if you think of anything that we can get the higher ups to go for. I just hope this new girl isn’t half as pretty as you said she is, or we’re in for a time.”
Tor nodded.
“Alright. I’ll see about setting up both. Do you think you can arrange for a house or two to be built for the ladies? I don’t know how to get them, but we will. Is that against regulations though?”
The large man laughed again. After a few seconds though he shrugged.
“This is only kind of a military base. Really a gray area. Master Tor owns it and technically it’s his place, but I can OK the military side of things myself. Now if we can just convince the mighty Wizard to let the men have a little fun, I guess we’re set. You want to work on that side? I’d have better luck getting an audience with the Prince, which I guess I could try…” the man rubbed at his face looking a bit sleepy around the edges still.
“Ah…” Tor sighed and shook his head a little as the man smiled again.
“Not trying to be all mysterious here, but, Um, I am Tor. So, yes, we can have the women here, if any want to come. So the buildings?”
The large man just rubbed his face again and nodded.
“OK. I’ll get on that today. If you can arrange any kind of transport too, that would be brilliant. Getting men to and from town on off days… Well, do that and this place will be the most desired post in the military service. Especially if we have girls too.” He chuckled again, but didn’t accuse Tor of lying or look at him in disbelief, which was kind of nice.
“I’ll do that. I might have to send the Prince around to coordinate with you, while I’m working on things, you’ve met? Big, redheaded, friendly?”
“Oh, sure. We hang out all the time… only, not really. He never leaves that hut. Hardly at least. The men sit around waiting for him to, just to say they saw him in person. Tor too, but so far no one has seen him.”
“They have, some of them, I run daily after all. They just didn’t get it was me. Probably thought I was a servant or something. Like I have servants?” Tor grinned and walked towards the door of the shop.
“Oh, um, could I get some furniture for my hut when you fellows get a chance? Right now we have piles of pillows and this.” Hefting the chair a little Tor grinned.
“Sure. I’ll put it on the sheet, sir.”
“Just Tor. Um…”
“Major Godfrey. Base Commander. Workshop foreman too, until we get someone else trained up for it. Well then Tor, if we aren’t standing on titles, Godfrey will do. Or major if the men are around. Could you send the girl over, if you see her? She needs to report in. Should have done that first really, but a lot of the new delivery people play by their own rules. You basically have to be a nobleman to have your own flying gear, and connections on top of that, so it’s not like anyone can tell them different. Say do you know what this one’s deal is that way?”
Tor thought he got the general idea.
“Second in line for the Debri Merchant Empire. But she had the flying gear, shield and stuff because I gave them to her. We’re… A little on the outs right now, but basically friends.”
“Oh? Alright then. So, since we’re friends too now, Tor, do I get free magic too?”
That kind of made sense, didn’t it? Especially if the man was the base commander or whatever.
“Yeah, just talk to me or Alphonse about it and we’ll send over whatever you need. Or, if you want, just come visit? I’m working most of the time, but, yeah, that will work. Also, I guess, Sara might be more comfortable with that. So…”
“Good, well, send her over please?”
Taking his chair he walked out thinking about the problem. The simple solution would be for him to knock out ten or twenty flying rigs and shields for the personnel on the base, and teach them to fly. But if they did that, the military would probably just confiscate what he made. They really wanted those rigs.
They could build that other dwelling and invite some women of “industry” to set up shop, but other than the street walkers in the Capital Tor had never even heard of any women with that particular profession. He wondered if they had a guild or something that could be contacted. Maybe he could ask around and see about that idea. If the market was there, why shouldn’t they earn a living while helping to keep the peace? It was cheaper than having guards walking around what was essentially his house after all. Probably more effective too, in the long run.
Could they… ship the men in cargo containers? If he built the flying rig into a special container, and fixed the plates into the unit itself, it would be harder for the military to take the parts for their own use. Would that work? They could put in chairs so that it wouldn’t be too uncomfortable inside, maybe some cushions? The whole thing would need a shield for safety, one way bigger than any he’d ever made, but… Yeah, it might work.
When he got to the hut he saw Rolph and Sara standing around out front as if they’d never left. He nodded to them as he walked past, wanting to set his chair up, which got them both to follow him in. Rolph looked happy and contented, but the blond girl looked nervous, and like she wanted to cry for some reason. Did she do that every time she slept with Rolph? Or was it just when he was around? Maybe seeing him after such amorous events made her sad or something? Realizing how lonely and sad he must be?
That was slightly depressing, if the case. No one wanted to be the person so pitiful they made others feel bad just by being around, did they?
“I made a chair! Did you know that we have a furniture shop here? As in a place they make it, not sell it. I want a bed too and maybe a little table. I asked for some stuff to be made up, if they get a chance. You should get a bed too Rolph, and I don’t know, maybe we could each get a privacy screen so that the next time I walk in and you two are having sex I don’t have the image haunting me for the rest of my life?” He grinned when Sara turned red.
“Oh, you saw…” Her voice had gone meek and a little scared.
“Don’t worry, all I really saw was Rolph’s giant ass in the air and part of your leg.” Tor shuddered at the thought, exaggerating it for comedic effect. “I probably wouldn’t have complained if I’d seen you instead. Really, feel free to parade around without clothing all you want, but you know, keep Rolph covered? Anyway, Sara, are you the new delivery person? If so you should probably check in and all that stuff.”
Rolph put his arm around her shoulder casually.
“Yeah, isn’t it great? She’ll be here all the time, making deliveries during the day to a couple of bases and into the Capital. I was thinking, if you don’t mind, could she stay here with us? I mean, she knows to be quiet while you work and all that, plus, we don’t have any other space for her yet on base here.”
It made sense, in a jealous making, uncomfortable way that he didn’t really want to think about. Tor could kind of see firsthand what Godfrey was saying about it making the men envious. Maybe if they hid her away from the others the fall out wouldn’t be as bad? Tor pointed to the front left corner.
“Over there? Use some screens to kind of make her a little room? Um, Sara, I know Trice is your friend and all, but please, don’t bring her over to visit. Also, this isn’t a base, it’s a compound. “Base” implies that it’s owned by the military and it isn’t. It’s mine or, if you want to be more correct, owned by you, with me, I don’t know, squatting? Maybe renting in exchange for work done? So, compound, since it has a wall now. ”
Sara blanched and nodded, as if the idea that she might bring Trice here was unthinkable. It probably was, all things considered. The girl probably wanted to see him about as much as she wanted to have an arm lobbed off. Fair enough.
They sent Sara off to meet up with Godfrey, who should be able to tell her what was needed or who to report to at least, if he wasn’t the man himself. After she left, as they ate food that was brought in from the kitchen, Tor related what the older man had told him earlier.
“So Sara is about the worst possible thing that could happen in a situation like this. We can set some of the men to making a new building and getting some furniture in it, maybe a few structures, towards the back where there isn’t anything yet? For girls… but Rolph, I don’t know how to contract anything like that, do you? I’ll also work on the transport thing, when I can. Maybe…” His voice fell off and he started putting together what he’d really need for it. The lift and control fields wouldn’t be that hard, but the shield for the whole thing was a novel build.
He sat down after he finished eating and started working on it. It only took a day, and over the next week he had the whole thing ready. Then he explained to Godfrey what they needed to do with the plates and devices, to install them into a cargo container so that everyone could ride in it comfortably. He left it in the man’s hands and started working on the rivers for Afrak.
That was hard.
It would have been a lot easier, but he decided that they needed to make the amount of flow variable, which meant redesigning the filter mechanism on the side that took water from the ocean. It would let the amount of water going through the floating river either come out as a small but decent stream all the way up to an amount about twice what the falcons river had. In order to twist around the mountains, each river had to have at least ten of the central control devices, which he used as boosters for the field line the water flowed in. It took him a while.
He opened his eyes when he was done, starving and thirsty, hearing crying over in the corner of the room. At least it wasn’t something he’d done.
Pretty sure at least.
“Hey.” His voice was a croak, not a voice at all. He’d done this kind of thing before, so was ready for it and not overly concerned. Tor found a pitcher of water next to him and saw some pretty nice cloth covered screens had been put up around him. They looked like something that you’d see in the palace or at least the guest house there. Shining brown black frames with little squares about eight inches across, with white cloth, like silk, but not, attached to it smoothly. It was tasteful and really brightened the space.
He stood, or at least tried too, his legs didn’t really want to work anymore. That would have been fine, except he really needed to go to the restroom, his bladder screaming at him. Looking around he found that a small table had appeared, which took him aback for a second. Not that there was a table, after all, they could make that kind of thing here, and he’d obviously been out for a long time. What got to him was that he’d missed that the table was there before, even though the pitcher was sitting on it. There was a cup too and next to that a pile of amulets. He checked the water for poison and then, finding it clean, drank it all slowly.
He still couldn’t stand, but could move, he realized, activating the Not-flyer Tor became weightless and stood in the air without using any effort to get up. It wasn’t a long term solution, he’d have to get his muscles working again soon, but it would let him get where he needed to go for now. Like the restroom.
Because that, at the moment, was the single most important thing in the world to him.
When he got beyond the screen he almost passed out.
The hut, which had been a bare space before, had stuff in it. Nice stuff. Rich looking cloth hangings on the walls, carpets in bright colors, deep reds and golds mainly and three sections divided by screens. It looked like someone wealthy lived there or something, instead of being a dirt shack made in the wilderness. Tor floated on slowly, looking around. There was soft crying coming from the front left corner, behind the screens, but it sounded like it was just Sara and really, she cried a lot. Hopefully it was nothing, but he had to pee before he dealt with anything or he’d have an accident.
The place was busy outside when he came out, the whole thing looked bigger, like the walls had grown when he wasn’t paying attention. The restroom at least was in the same place. He wondered if he should stop and take a bath before going back? It seemed like a good idea, since he smelled more than a little. Plus, it would give the crying a chance to stop. Was that too cowardly? Probably. Did he care? That, he decided, he’d think about later.
His face was covered with hair, which wasn’t long, but actually looked like a good beginning to a beard, thick and black, like the stuff on his head, so he left it alone and scrubbed up in a tub of warm water in the open room. Two other men came in and used the tubs near him, carrying bundles of clothes and towels which they dropped on tables that had been set next to the big round things that had replaced the relatively tiny ones that had been there before. Still compressed earth though. They had the warming plates on them, so he soaked for a few minutes with his eyes closed.
“Hey…” A man holding his own bundle of stuff stood before the tub glaring at Tor a little. “Ten minutes per man. Otherwise we can’t all get a wash in each day. There are only so many heaters for these things and I don’t feel like washing cold so you can soak in luxury.”
Tor cracked a single eye open.
There were rules to bathing now? Sighing he got out of the tub and started drying off while the man changed the water so that he could use it without waiting on Tor to fix things. At least he could stand on his own now, kind of.
“You drunk or something?” The man, obviously military, looking about twenty or so, mocked his wobbling. It was a good, if slightly exaggerated impression.
Tor shook his head and explained while he dressed.
“Nah, I was just working without moving for, god, what’s the date?” The man didn’t know, but called out to a fellow in one of the other tubs, who did.
“So, for twenty days. Making Sky Rivers for Afrak. If you don’t move for a long time like that your muscles get weak. Plus, I’m starving. I don’t suppose it’s anywhere near a meal time yet, is it?”
The man laughed and shook his head.
“But, if you want, when you’re ready, I’ll walk you over to the kitchen I know a guy there that might have a crumb, if you’re willing to deal, take a turn on kitchen duty or what not. Always need people on that here.”
It sounded like a plan to Tor, since he was going to take a few days off from building fields anyway while he recovered. Working in a kitchen would at least be something to do. Active enough to start rebuilding what he’d lost with all the field work. Muscle mass and stamina. The man kept watching him as he dressed, staring hard enough that it made Tor feel uneasy as he slipped on all his amulets. Then clothing which he took from the little cabinet his stuff was kept in.
“Hey, that’s Tor’s stuff, you cruising for a beating or something? Base commander said that anyone bothering his shit would end up on the front line carrying a rock to fight the Austrans and I really don’t think he was kidding.”
Tor nodded. Really he’d stopped paying attention to the man after the mention of food, he was starving, as in actually starving. He pointed down at the green canvas he put on, which was a little loose.
“Notice how well it fits though? Now, hurry up so I can get some food… please.”
The man just laughed, as if he’d said something funny. Maybe he just looked funny? At least no one would be assuming he was a child any more. He decided to keep the beard. If the guy wasn’t smart enough to figure out that the guy making Sky Rivers for Afrak and wearing Tor’s clothes, was Tor, then telling him otherwise would be a waste of time. Still, if he had connections in the kitchen, the fool might be useful. Tor didn’t like his demeanor, it felt too slick and wheedling at the same time, but hey, any port in a storm and all that.
At the kitchen the “knowing a guy” thing turned out to be a lot less a specific person and more of just standing at the door and offering to trade work later for food now. Laughing Tor waved the other man away. A tall man, older than the rest and wearing a light brown apron stepped forward and sized Tor up.
“Can you cook, or at least wash dishes?” The voice was skeptical, as if most people couldn’t.
“Baker. Not what I’m doing now, but I have a few days off coming. I grew up in a bakery, literally.”
The man seemed impressed and gave him some bread and cheese from a cold box. Not the kind from the palace, but one that someone had rigged up a room cooling plate to the inside of. It did keep it cool enough, if the cheese was any indication. He’d have to make a freezer or two for the place before the next summer. Right now it was cool outdoors, not so cold he needed a jacket, but then wearing all his pendants Tor wouldn’t have bothered anyway.
The huge ovens at the back of the room where producing a steady stream of pots, a lot more than fifty or even a hundred people would have needed. He asked, curious, how many they were cooking for. It turned out to be nearly three hundred. Apparently while he’d been working someone had decided to turn his little compound into a center for learning how to make military supplies.
Tor suppressed a groan. After all, if people were making more furniture and learning how to do it, as well as other things, that meant they’d need more of the compressor devices, and that, of course, meant more work for him. Yay. Well, at least he was useful now.
Well, he was finishing the rivers first. At least if anyone let him.
Fed well enough that he was uncomfortable, even if he hadn’t eaten much at all, he walked back to his room, using his feet, just to get the exercise.
It wasn’t good of him, but Tor hoped that Sara had stopped crying by now so that he wouldn’t have to deal with anything new. If she was pregnant with Rolph’s child, or worse, someone else’s, it would just be a pain in the ass. This time he wasn’t going to offer to marry anyone to help some girl get out of the mess she’d gotten herself into either. In a way it made him a little sad that he’d lost that innocence along the way. That desire to help a person just because they needed it. Why had that happened anyway?
Right… it happened about when he’d figured out that Trice thought he was a stupid troll.
So, great. She thought he was a moron, which was turning him into an evil Galasian Tor troll. Troll of Galasia. It was even in his list of titles at the palace now. So apparently at least someone there thought it really fit. Probably Rolph.
Inside winding through the outer hall and going down the steps he noticed the crying had stopped at least. Yay. He walked slowly towards the table that had been set up in the common area and sat in one of the chairs. His chair actually, so it fit almost perfectly. The other three were much larger, but he didn’t care. Tor was just glad that no one had carted his humble little chair off without asking first, after all so much else had changed and it didn’t actually match.
A few minutes later there was a stirring from behind the screen where Sara had obviously set up, and the blond head popped out and looked at him, then made a happy sound and flowed out to the table, where she tried to hug him. The shield stopped her short.
“Tor! Drop the stupid shield so I can hug you silly! I thought you might be gone for good this time. Oh!” Arms moved around him when he dropped the field and she held on as if he was keeping her from drowning.
Over her shoulder he noticed a large figure in a dress come out from behind the screen and he almost panicked, starting to slap at his shield, wondering if Sara had set him up to be killed by Trice. But it wasn’t her. This girl was slightly plumper, in a healthy way, and a little taller. Blond and pretty, but no one he recognized. He stared at her for almost a minute before he got it.
“Ursala? But…” A hundred questions popped in to his head then, but instead of getting to ask them he was suddenly rushed by the woman and found himself wrapped suddenly in a pair of warm arms that shouldered Sara out of the way.
Ursala pulled back, breathing hard, her exhalations coming out broken, like sobbing.
“Tor… They’re all dead…”