Jack Campbell - The Dragons of Dorcastle

This time she thought before speaking, though. Something about the way Stimon had asked felt wrong. Tricks. A trick question? To get her to admit to what?

To having witnessed something that the Mechanics Guild said did not exist?

Yeah. I really want to admit to that to this guy. Had she actually seen anything when the Mage did that superheat bit? “No.”

Senior Mechanic Stimon’s jaw tightened. He didn’t say anything for some time, then spoke with deceptive quietness. “Alone, with a Mage, for days. Do you have any idea what a gross breach of Guild rules that is?”

Mari felt herself getting angry again. Don’t act like a child. That’s what he wants. How would Professor S’san handle this? The answer came to her. Mari sat down again and assumed a questioning look. “Exactly which rules did I break, Guild Hall Supervisor?”

Stimon glared at her. “Are you actually claiming that you were never told not to associate with Mages?”

“No, Guild Hall Supervisor. I am asking you which Guild rules address conduct toward Mages. I am unaware of any written policy or formal standing orders. I am, however, aware that according to Guild rules I am under an obligation to protect my tools and to carry out my contracts. If I had died in the Waste, my tools would have been lost and my contract would have been forfeited.” Mari gave Stimon her best obedient underling look. “I was following the Guild’s rules in order to serve the Guild’s interests.”

The Senior Mechanic just stared at her, disbelief shading into impotent anger. Then he unexpectedly smiled. “I will, of course, have to ask for proof of the attack on the caravan. Please do not insult both of us by invoking the Mage as a witness. What can you tell me about these bandits? Did you see any faces? Hear anything which would identify them?”

Mari shook her head, wondering what Stimon was up to now. “They were in full desert robes, including coverings for their lower faces, not that I saw many close up. The only detail I know is that they were armed with standard model repeating rifles out of the workshops at Danalee.”

“You’re certain of that?” Stimon asked sharply.

“Yes. I examined one closely.”

“You claim you had one in your possession and you didn’t bring it with you?” the Senior Mechanic asked.

“I was being pursued by the other bandits at the time, and the weapon was broken!” Mari tried again to keep her temper in check. “As it was, I had so much to carry that I barely made it to safety.”

Stimon grimaced, shaking his head. “I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything more from a…”

“A what? I’m a Master Mechanic and insist that I be treated as such.”

Mari’s words hung in the air for a moment, then Stimon smiled again. “Of course. It’s a pity that a Master Mechanic observed no useful details of these bandits. Nothing which we could use to verify her story.”

“Do you think I took a walk in the desert voluntarily?” Mari demanded. “You know the caravan did not arrive on time. Send someone to the pass and they’ll find a very big crater and a lot of dead bodies.”

“Caravans are often late, and sometimes never appear for reasons which have nothing to do with bandits. I do not have the luxury of sending Mechanics off on long journeys to investigate stories that have no other evidence to support them.” Stimon made a regretful gesture. “Due to the lack of proof, I have to register you as late for contract work without authorization.”

“You—” Mari really had to struggle this time to keep from yelling at Stimon. “I insist on the right to enter a protest and an explanation.”

“That is your right,” Stimon agreed readily.

He knows other Senior Mechanics will pay no attention to what I say. A black mark. He’s giving me a black mark on my first contract, because I almost got killed trying to get to it. Mari gave him an angry glare. “The word of a Master Mechanic would not be questioned in Palandur.”

“This isn’t Palandur. It’s Ringhmon. I run this Guild Hall. And even in Palandur the Guild is run by Senior Mechanics. You had best keep that in mind.” Stimon drummed his fingers on the surface of his desk for a moment, seeming very pleased with himself. “You may now proceed to the Ringhmon Hall of City Government to carry out your contract.”

Mari sat for a moment, trying to calm herself down. “Who’s escorting me to the contract site? Where do I meet them?”

Stimon frowned at her. “Escorting? No one. You’re a Master Mechanic,” he added with a thin smile.

After ten years of the Guild trying to supervise her every move, why was it that now so many Senior Mechanics wanted her wandering around alone? “The Mechanic who normally works on that equipment—”

“Master Mechanic Xian has no interest in acting as your apprentice. He feels he could have fixed the problem himself, given more time.”

Fat chance. It’s about getting the job done, Xian, not your pride. Mari tried again. “I don’t know the city. I assume the Hall of City Government is some ways away. Guild policy—”

“Policy regarding multiple Mechanics on the same job is often waived. Experienced Mechanics know that. Do you need directions to the Hall of City Government?”

Directions. Not an escort. Not transportation. Directions. “No. I’ll find my way there.”

“I should not have to say this, but you are ordered not to allow further contact between yourself and any Mage. I will put that in writing.” Stimon smiled, but it was a smile without any pretense of humor.

Mari bared her teeth back at him, stood up and left.

She barely kept from slamming the door of Stimon’s office, then stood a moment in the hallway trying to control her temper. Fortunately, the female Senior Mechanic had vanished. Mari wasn’t sure how she would have handled additional unpleasant treatment.

This wasn’t anything like what Mari had anticipated when she had left Palandur. She could handle being alone, feeling alone. Getting to the academy at sixteen had meant she was years younger than the other students, a kid out of place among her older colleagues. She had earned respect among those peers there for her abilities, but here in Ringhmon for the first time she felt unable to control her fate at all, no matter how well she did her job. My first independent job and it’s turning into a total disaster. It’s like I’m fighting my own Guild. I can’t ask anyone like Cara or Trux or Pradar to help me when it’s obvious the Guild Hall Supervisor wants to trip me up and will hammer anyone who gets in his way. But if even one person would volunteer to help me, it would make this so much easier to handle.

One person had helped her without thought of the cost, Mari realized. The Mage. A blasted Mage, who was willing to die protecting me. He was willing to cut his own chances to nothing in order to give me that last bit of water. Why couldn’t Alain have been a Mechanic? I could use a friend like that right now.

Stars above, did I actually just wish a Mage could be my friend? Wake up, Mari. Focus on the job. You are going to get to the Hall of City Government and do the best job anyone in the Mechanics Guild has ever seen. And if anyone else tries to get in your way, they’re going to regret it.

She reached into her jacket to check her pistol, then walked through the hallways rapidly, willing to face whatever threats waited outside as soon as possible rather than spend any more time here.

Ringhmon in the morning seemed to be just as hot as Ringhmon in the afternoon, though the yellowish cast to the sky appeared to be a little less prominent. Mari had left her pack at the Guild Hall, but even the smaller tool kit seemed to weigh more with every step. She singled out one of the commons on the street. “Where is the Hall of Government?”