Orders from Below

[Ari Rahikkala]

(OoC: No interesting plot, no pleasantly high-quality writing, just laying out some worldbuilding-y stuff that will have some effect on something. To be continued...)

Deep Trouble looked very different from two days ago. Two days ago, the talk of the day had been how the fresh duke would handle the PR to keep the republic convinced that Straylight deserve its duchy status. Now, the sanct was quiet. The Yardistani invaders had made sure to shoot up the local communication networks and to partition the city with checkpoints in order to prevent any large assembly of the natives. Two days ago, there had been a constant stream of ships entering and leaving port, and an endless buzz of airplanes in the sky. Now, only the Angel Of Unnecessarily Heavy Weaponry was para-anchored next to the sanct, and while there would be food, fuel and water for the citizens for now, Deep Trouble was no exception in not having the space to spare for weeks of supplies. Two days ago, Deep Trouble was a proud part of Duchy of Straylight - independent, maybe, yet trusting in the protection from the dangers of the world that the fleets of the larger duchies could afford it. Now, it had been shocked into the realisation that even inside the Republic there can be no protection if the right person decides to give up the independence of the duchy.

The Yardistani marine patting Kellersman Anton down was quite thorough. This was to be expected, and was only a minor inconvenience. In fact it was during the search that he received and acknowledged the message that set out his mission for the next several hours. The optic and cochlear nerve shunt, the glucose fuel cell, the series of implants for driving a miniaturised radio transceiver were all technology that was well known in the academia and high-tech companies around Straylight - but only Amara Pharmaceuticals had gone through the trouble of working out all of the kinks (my, there were quite a few of those, Anton sometimes thought) of getting a combined suite of genetic, cybernetic, and artificial-life improvements working together in order to produce agents who would be able to negotiate troublesome situations without being discovered.

"You can go, sir." A well trained man, Anton thought while putting his shoes back on. Of course, it just had to be that the mission needed him just at the side of the checkpoint he'd just come from. He'd been going out to place a camera - currently located deep enough in his nasal cavity that it'd take a rather impressive search to find it - to keep an eye out for intruders to the hidden Lab 8. Now he'd have to negotiate two other checkpoints to avoid passing this one again. That'd buy him about half an hour against waiting for the next shift, and less suspicion than heading right back through the same checkpoint too soon. Well, soon enough he was back.

Kellersmen were expensive. In a society where the vast majority of tasks could be handled simply by having a well-trained person with an appropriate tool present, the effort to use advanced engineering to give one person the means to cope with any situation was rarely economical. Consequentially Kellersmen were rare, and their time precious, and so they each had at least a small office with a staff whose purpose was to remove the unnecessary complications from their Kellersman's life. Anton's was the only one currently located in Deep Trouble, as most of his kind were constantly involved in various tasks around the world, and their offices moved with them.

Of course, office was a relative term. In truth while the little chamber did house plentiful computing equipment and workspaces, it also had a kitchen corner with a two-burner induction stove, tiny fridge, and sink with a salty and fresh water faucet. This all lied right next to the four somewhat claustrophobic sleeping capsules, and in turn next to these set in the other wall there was a shallow wardrobe alcove. This kind of arrangement was common especially for smaller companies which couldn't afford to pay salaries competitive after covering rent - and in this case, the sight of such a space was a wonderful way to keep prying eyes uninterested even if some happened to peek in. This kind of constant hybridised use of a space both as a home and a workplace, in multiple shifts, was a testament perhaps not to the health of Straylightian society, or to its architectural engineering, but certainly to its soundproofing technology.

Anton wasted no time. He shut the door behind him, said "Jenks, get me as much rust as you can. Mix some bleach and vinegar and stuff steel wool in it. Sanford, get me glass dust. Plenty of it. Unless you come up with a better idea, take some ball bearings out of a washing machine and put them inside a tumble dryer for a ball mill. Blow the fan and heater too. Try not to breathe the fumes, either of you, they mightn't be healthy. Gage, come with me, we're going to have to figure something out", and left immediately.

All in a day's work for a Kellersman and his assistants.