Seth’s Story
Let’s get one thing straight—I never meant to hurt nobody, I swear!
I grew up in Darktown. Da’s a street sweeper, Mum’s a maid in a professor’s house, five older siblings, a two-bedroom flat in the scuzziest part of the slums, you get the image. You know my neighborhood is where Darktown got its name? Used to be called Danson’s Glade—stupid name, no wonder we shoved it. Still not so much as one electric streetlight. Even Riverside’s got some now, the posh tossers—What? Right, right, my story.
My parents never had the coin to send me to school, but I spent all my time at the library over in Tinker’s Quarter. When I got bored of all the books there, Mum would bring me to work and turn a blind eye while I borrowed one or two of the prof’s books. I gave ‘em all back, I promise! The professor’s library was deep. I was readin’ about the physics of ivorite expansion and Rubin’s space-time continuum theory.
By the time I turned twelve, I started workin’ me bones at Fletcher’s Mechs. I’ve worked every device in that shop, and I know ‘em all inside and out. But the biggest pain is that bleedin’ printing shuttle. Most people hate the blazin’ thing, but I like it because I can sleep or read on the job so long as it’s not busted. That happens at least twice a day, but once I get it goin’ again, I can loll about all I want, see? So I got thinkin’. Life would be a lot easier if I could figure out how that blasted machine busts before it busts, so I could head it off, y’know?
So after reading Papinova’s theorem of parallel realities—you read that one? Too bad, good stuff—I figured I could build a device that would open a rip in the fabric of reality and let me peep into other realms so’s I could ferret out the future of just about anythin’. I could fix that blazin’ machine before it breaks, see? And if I happened to learn who’s winnin’ at the races at the same time . . . But see that? I just wanted to look at, other realities, not affect them!
So I got to borrowin’ some parts from work, some from the professor—What? Yeah, obviously the blinkin’ ivorite came from work. I spruced up that safe so many times for the bosses, course I pinched a bit. Anyways—any time I didn’t have to baby that stupid blazin’ shuttle, I got to have fun buildin’ a device that would spit in the eye of our understandin’ of reality—if it worked. I called it the Peeper.
—No, course I didn’t think of how my machine’d “never have made it past the ethics committees at the Academy or the Tinker’s Association.” I never went to school like you knickerbockers. The only “ethics committees” we have in Darktown are the Guilds. The rules there are, if you can get away with it, it’s ethical. Dead simple.
Movin’ on! When I was ready to test out the Peeper, I figured it wouldn’t be smart to do it by a bunch of people or near all the ticklish mechs at the factory—See? I’m not a complete git.
So one night I went over to Scarlet Fields and flipped the switch. Which is when, you know, all those rifts tore open around the city and all the bullets and bombs and monsters from other realms started pourin’ through—Yes, of course I saw the vanguard and the werewolf and whatnot. I was at Scarlet Fields, remember?
I turned off the Peeper, obviously, and after I hid up a cozy tree for a few hours, I took a couple rocks and bashed the Peeper as much as I could. On my way home, I tossed it in an academy junk pile with the other failed experiments. And then I went back to work. No more tinkerin’, I swear! This was all just a big smashup. I won’t do it again!
—-
A glaring light shone in Seth’s face. The heat from the light and the tension from the past hour caused sweat to slide down his face in a steady drip, drip, drip.
“A smashup?” asked Sergeant Abrahms of Gearhaven Academy’s private security force. She folded her arms and leaned back in her chair. “You think twenty deaths, over seventy hospitalizations, and who knows how many monsters and rogue machines still mucking around our city can be dismissed as a simple accident?”
Seth gave a weak shrug and a teeny, pleading smile.
“Here’s our problem,” Abrahms continued, “You’ve got a giant brain, but no common sense.”
“Hey now … ” said Seth, wounded.
“I’m talking now,” replied the sergeant. “The problem is, that blasted device has indeed ‘spit in the eye’ of the Academy’s understanding of reality. A bunch of professors are all titillated by it and have already formed new classes around the concepts they’ve learned from your … Peeper, as you call it.”
Seth perked up. “Really?”
Abrahms nodded—a very grumpy nod, but still a nod. “Really. These enthusiastic professors would like to have the man behind the invention so they can better understand your device. But you clearly need some guiding hands to make sure you don’t make the same imbecilic mistakes. Gearhaven Academy would like to offer you entrance to the academy and a junior professorship—all under a strict mentorship.”
Seth rubbed his hands over his scalp, dragging his palms down to his neck and over to his mouth. He could scarcely believe what he was hearing. Not only was he not going to jail, but he was getting full access to Gearhaven Academy? And as a junior professor? It was one of the top-shelf universities in the world, with a library of more books than he could whirl with in three lifetimes. This was head poppin’!
“I don’t know what to say,” Seth finally said, unable to stop a small smile from creeping up his face.
“Say you’ll accept and that we’ll see you on campus bright and early Monday morning,” replied Abrahms.
Seth now grinned like a fool. “Of course I accept. This is a bleedin’ dream come true!” He tipped his chair back and felt his body relax for the first time since the sergeant had taken him in.
Abrahms stood. “Good. Also, off the books, I suspect your Guildmaster will be in contact when he wants you to complete your first job. If I knew anything official, which I don’t, I would guess he’ll let you settle in for a week or two first.”
Seth snapped his eyes to Abrahms’ face, his body going still like prey preparing to flee. “A Guildmaster?”
“What? You thought a doting mentor would be the only catch for wreaking havoc across the city? Your ‘benefactor’ who got you your cushy place at the Academy is the only reason you’re not going to prison. He expects a return on his investment.”
“But the Guilds are all a cluster of cutthroat thieves!”
“Oh, since ‘borrowing’ is so much different from thieving.” Abrahms mocked.
“Yeah, but the Guilds never let you go once you’re in. And before I know it, I won’t be skimmin’ and lyin’ here and there, I’ll be offin’ people! I’m not killin’ anyone!” Seth kicked his chair and started pacing across the small room.
“What about the mutants and werewolf that you brought in? Who should kill them other than you?” Abrahms asked, grabbing Seth’s arm to halt his pacing. Seth stayed silent, his stomach sinking to his toes.
“Look at it this way,” Abraham continued. “One, you probably won’t have to ‘off’ anyone. Your Guildmaster finds it distasteful, and he has other agents he’s likely to use when it cannot be avoided. Two, you do a few jobs here and there, and in return, you get to live out your dreams. You get to help clean up some of the mess you made, and you get to keep that pretty face of yours out of prison—which you fully deserve. Clear?”
Seth’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “Clear.”
It really was a good deal. Hopefully it wouldn’t cost him his soul.
