Gear City Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Jerret woke up to banging. He sprang forward with his knife drawn and pulled the hatch aside, nearly impaling the officer’s leg. The Cog jumped back, slightly startled, and brandished his Tesla club menacingly. Jerret groggily nodded, and closed the hatch. He then proceeded to shake Shera awake. He told her that he was going to see the hag and gave her hand a comforting squeeze. Shera said she would make some rounds at the shelters and hopefully get some leftovers from the food markets. No one ever bothered asking for work because no one hired smokeys, or those who were dirtied by the smoke from the slum’s ore furnaces. Only the lowest jobs could be taken by them and vacancies in any profession didn’t occur often.

As the officer walked Jerret down the streets, there was an uneasy silence neither chose to break. They had been walking some time, and left the slums for the more pleasant middle class neighborhoods of the Clockwork. The large filthy storage houses and refinery complexes were switched with pleasant shops and multi-story apartments, all benefitting from more modern technology like glint street lights and small travel Mecs. The streets were relatively clean and the people looked happy. There was an assortment of gentle and robust fragrances that indicated everything from fresh pastries, to potted plants, to the strong odor of newly greased Mecs. There was a hand full of operation Mecs around, open structures with no real purpose other than lifting and other tasks which proved too strenuous for simple shopkeepers.

Jerret tried to chat up his officer but the man feigned deafness. He would even acknowledge Jerret, except when Jerret grabbed his coat sleeve, but that was only to thrust his baton and a couple hundred volts into Jerret’s side. Stunned was one word for it but Jerret continued to move, with the officers encouragement. He didn’t try to talk anymore, though his mood went from irritated to full-blown pissed off.

After a few more minutes of silence, and Jerret’s seething, the streets started to get wider and the house grew larger. At the end of the road there was a canal separating the Clockwork from Highlands, the political party members and royalty and business moguls.

As Jerret took in the true extent of the highlands his anger quickly took to a backburner. He knew the Highlanders were known for their extravagance and power, but this was ridiculous. The streets were adorned with rows of mansions. There must have been maybe a third of Gear City right here for about two percent of the population. Even the Royal Palace, home to the President of Gear City, Lo Kyo, was not worth as much as many of these monstrosities.

But then Jerret noticed something that intrigued him even more than the mansions. Running over to the bridge overlooking the canal, Jerret peered down. The water was clear and fresh and blue. Never once had he seen so much of something so valuable. He had scars from fights for just a cup of water. And the water they had back in the slums was murkier than the rats that drank from it. On his way back Jerret had to find a way to snag some of this.

Jerret stood there watching the water till the officer knocked him on the head with his baton. Then the jerk began prodding Jerret too one of the smaller mansions. The structure looked old and worn, yet Jerret noticed refurbishments all throughout the exterior including glint spotlights and hydrolic shutters covering every window. The mansion was pulled back from the road, producing a large front yard with fresh green grass, unheard of, and a grand walkway leading to the front door. Jerret also took note of the other walkway leading to the rear grounds.

 When they reached the front door, which was huge and ornately carved, the officer knocked on the door. Once, Twice - then the door was ripped open to reveal a large muscular man in a sleeveless shirt and grease-stained cargo pants. He wore heavy duty goggles and his blond hair stood up every which way possible, as if spikes and claws shot out of his skull. The man looked down at the two, giving the officer a nod and then putting all his attention on Jerret. A huge grin widened on his face as he took Jerret’s hand into his giant paw and shook it vigorously. “Well, well it seems I have finally found me idol. You and I are going to be the best of chums mate, the best you hear. But no time to chat right now. Granny Gear wants to see you right first thing when you got here.” Turning to the officer he nodded again. “Thanks copper for the directions but the little man won’t need no more help getting here. Now off with ya. Go scare little streetcars and the like.” And with that the giant fellow pulled Jerret into the mansion (his feet leaving the floor as if he were a rag doll) and slammed the door shut in the officer’s face. Without skipping a beat he dragged Jerret through the house, which was a lot messier on the inside than on the out, with scraps of paper, tools, and food everywhere and beautiful artwork and ornate glassware lying in disorder.

The huge man stopped as they entered what appeared to be the living room. With its odd assortment of mix-matched furniture and clutter/filth all over the place it was certainly the most unusual living room Jerret had ever seen. But on second thought this probably was the only living room Jerret had ever seen. Sitting in a high backed chair with what appeared to be three goat legs, was the ninja lady from yesterday. She wore the same combo of brown dress and blue apron that she wore the day before and sipped a cup of tea daintily. She looked up as Jerret entered and smiled a toothy grin that made him shudder.

“Hello there young man,” she said in a slightly raspy, yet genial voice, “so glad for you to stop by. Would you like a cup of tea?” She nodded to a teapot nestled into the one clean spot on the coffee table in front of her.

“No ma’am. I am just here for my debt. I’d rather clear it and be gone.” Jerret said with a monotone voice. He had learned from enough experiences that this was the quickest path to freedom.

“Well isn’t there some spunk in you. Fine we will begin but first let us introduce ourselves. You first.”

Jerret was taken aback for a second. No one ever cared who he was. Usually they would just loathe his very existence and watch him suffer some stupid task. “Jerret, ma’am, my name is Jerret.” He said moodily. It didn’t matter if they wanted a last name; no one got a last name from him.

“Beautiful. My name is Grita however everybody who knows me and still values their head in its original shape calls me Granny Gear. I see you have already met Medwin,” winking at the jovial behemoth standing behind Jerret’s chair, “which leaves my two granddaughters, Miralynn and Ariadne.”

No sooner had the words left Granny Gear’s mouth than Jerret heard a whoosh and felt his head explode with pain. He hit the ground hard where he stayed dazed and hurting. A thick wrench was lying in front of him, which was obviously the implement of his agony. Finally, when the ground stopped swaying, Jerret picked himself up and turned to stare fiercely at his attacker. He then looked into the eyes of a girl not much older than him with curly dark red hair and tan skin. She was wearing blue overalls and a yellow tank top. She had goggles on her head just like Medwin and wore a tool belt around her waist, where several more wrenches hung, as well as an assortment of other tools.

Jerret was so startled that all he could say was a conglomerate of swearing. “What the hell? Who the hell? Why the hell would you do that, you crazy bitch.” Jerret spat, feeling around his head for blood but only finding a large aching bump. The girl looked at him with a smirk and turned to Granny Gear.

“Well grams it looks like you chose crap. This kid wouldn’t last ten seconds against me, let alone the champs. Just another weak-ass smokey that isn’t worth the grime on his half worn shoes.”

Jerret’s mind took a moment to process all this but the stream of insults turned his vision red. He leaped at the girl, blocking a wild haymaker swing from her right while clamping his hand around her throat and knocking them both to the ground. Jerrett leaned in, his face inches above the girl’s. There was silence in the room and the satisfaction of the girl’s startled expression was enough to calm Jerret down. He put his mouth to her ear and said in a quiet voice, “Don’t throw things at people. Especially people who fight better than you.”

After a moment Jerret got up off the girl and set himself in front of Granny Gear, who was grinning like a mad woman. Or at least madder than before.

“This is going to be excellent. Jerret, that ball of sunshine is Ariadne. You two had best get along right quick because you’ll be working together here on in.” she said with a cackle.

Jerret stood there confused. “Working on what exactly ma’am? Whatever it is, even a weak-ass smokey like me could probably handle it just fine without her help.” Jerret gave Ariadne a venomous look, which she mirrored.

“Actually, no, you will be needing her help. In fact you will be needing all of our help.” Granny Gear said with a grin. “Do you, by any chance, know what I am famous for my dear?” Jerret shook his head. “I am the proud owner and patron of the Gear Guardians, a Mec gladiator team. You absolutely must know about the Gardna Mec Tournament, which is only a few weeks away, yes?”

There was silence. Jerret never paid attention to tournaments because he never had any money to waste on bets.

Granny Gear frowned. “Oh dear, well I guess I should come out and say it. I want you to represent us in the tournament. I assure you I can pay you very well for this, other such benefits included.” She continued to talk but Jerret wasn’t paying attention anymore. He sat down and wondered if that blow to the head had truly damaged his mind.

“Are you serious?” Jerret finally asked, incredulous over the possibility. “This isn’t a joke or anything is it?”

Granny Gear frowned for a moment. “Why would I lie to you? This is as true an offer as anything else. If you’re not happy with it or don’t think you could handle the fighting I can renounce the debt you owe and you can be on your way.”

Jerret grinned from ear to ear. “Hey I have only one thing to say to your little offer, lady.” Jerret dropped the façade of nicities and manners for his blunt and true personality. “If it has anything to do with Mecs, even the most grueling, difficult work imaginable, I accept. If I get to fight in a Mec and get paid for it, you had better go tell the other guys they’ve got no chance. I will take on anyone, fight as hard as anyone, and win no matter what. You will not be sorry. Now,” Jerret said, rubbing his hands in eagerness, “when do we begin?”