A Machine Called Earth

Three weeks later.

“Hector, Hector! Hurry up and wake up, the mayor has ordered a town meeting, something terrible is happening.... HECTOR!” His sister shouted in his ear, as she bashed him in the head with a pillow.

“Ok, I’m up, what’s all the noise about?” Said Hector, as he struggled to keep his eyes open. “Is there another protest?”

“Just come outside, and get dressed.” She said, as she gave him the once over with her eyes, looking disapprovingly. Hector wondered if this was another one of her pranks. His sister delighted in the act of tricking him.

“Well something terrible better be happening,” muttered Hector, “I was enjoying my nap.” However this was a lie. He hadn't had a peaceful night’s sleep for some time.

Hector got up, and looked out the bedroom window of his second story terrace, which he and his younger sister, Jane lived. “Such a grey day, hardly a day worth leaving the house.” He said.

“You say that every day.” Jane butted in. Hector turned towards her with a dark stare, which said she had out-stayed her welcome in his room. But before too long, they got their things together, and headed towards the old, rundown town hall.

They rushed through the damp cobblestone streets, weaving through the hordes of slow moving townsfolk, and winding in and out of streets and alleyways and narrow side-streets. The town hall stood in the center of town like a giant monument, its high walls and wide pillars the last reminder of the royal roots of Tammerville’s inception. “Attention all citizens, Report to the town hall as soon as possible.” Buzzed the loud speaker at an almost ear-bleedingly distorted tone.

So eventually every Tom, Dick and Harry, man and his dog, and every woman and child packed into the under capacity hall like sardines in a can.

Considering the great size of the town hall, Tammerville had become quite over populated. There had been an influx of refugees from up north. They came from the grand city of Syre. Much of the city was ruined during the Great War.

Hector had no problem with the Syrien refugees, but the same can’t be said for the majority of the people of Tammerville.

“I wonder what this is about.” Said one man. “Probably another tax raise.” Said another. However, Hector remembered his chat with the Mayor a couple of weeks ago, and felt an anxious quiver in his heart.

Mayor Johnston, a plump yet upper-class, sluggard of a man, approached the microphone. He stood there a while as the noise left the hall. In a trembling tone, he said through the graying whiskers of his obscenely long mustache, “It seems we have an epidemic on our hands.” These words had chilled the hearts of everyone in the hall. “As you all know, there has been dark clouds looming to the south, over the mountains for some time now. But, things are changing, we have lost contact with River-ton, our key trading associates to the south-east.

We have not heard from them for some time now, and we are beginning to suspect, that it has something to do with the southern clouds. Also we have had increased reports to the missing persons unit. But that’s not all. Bring out James.”

Just then they brought out a man. He was in shackles and walked out with a timid stance as though afraid of the bright lights that shone onstage. All the crowd gasped in astonishment, Hector included. He, barely looked human. He looked like something from a storybook, between a werewolf and something even more sinister. His body was covered with large boils and anomalies wherever there weren't patches of beast-like fur. Not to mention the dark black stain around his mouth and on his hands, which Hector could only assume was the blood of the saw mill’s supervisor. The hall began to fill with noise, people began whispering to each other, “What is this sorcery? How can this be?”

As they were all grossly horrified. “That’s what we get for letting all those refugees in our town.” Said one man, hardly a believable argument.

Mayor Johnston returned to the podium. “As you can clearly see, there is something no doubt disturbing going on, and it’s not just this man, it’s beginning to happen all over town. Doctor Leighbrook, the Alderman Street physician has reported a myriad of patients who share these same symptoms.”

Silence returned to the hall as everyone strived to take in what was being said.

“Do not worry citizens, we have everything under control. We have our best minds working together to find a cure, there is no reason to panic. However, any volunteers who care to help will be greatly welcome.”

As the meeting finished, everyone began leaving the hall, and returning to their day, not that they could really enjoy the rest of their day, after hearing the disturbing news. All the townsfolk knew that this was not something that the Mayor and his connections could ever workout. The mayor was far from renown at dealing with troubling circumstances. It was common knowledge that the mayor couldn’t even work out simple matters, and the people of Tammerville blame him personally for the decline of its economy, social morale and living standards since the retirement of the much loved Mayor Copperbottle.

However, they knew that Hector was one of the last remaining trained guards. Trained since the tender age of twelve. A Blackcoat. An expert in solving murders, catching criminals, a specialist arms-man and swordsman. Though Hector had only been a Blackcoat for about four years before it was disbanded, and was only a sub-par swordsman with little experience catching killers. But he did receive a medal or two during his service, and he had the best teacher that could be conjured, making what he actually learnt in those four years, more like that of ten years.

So it wasn’t long after Hector returned to his home, and went back to his comfortable, welcoming bed, when a group of townsfolk came knocking on his door, well more like bashing at his door.

They cried out “You must not stay, you must go away, you must not return, until you have broken this curse, that we’re falling down into!”

Hector heard the plea, but was irritated that the whole mob of townsfolk, about fifty of them in total, all adults, would call on a boy who was in that grey area between child and man to save them. Surely there was one man in the town with the hide to step up, but no, there were none.

This was a town that had no problem letting a twelve year old become one of the city guard. In fact it was encouraged, for the Blackcoats were an institution created by Tammerville after the Great War. Tammerville was not the size of Syre and could not sustain a large force of protectors and law keepers. But the Blackcoats, named after their uniform, prided themselves on quality over quantity. One fully trained Blackcoat guard, was equal to five of any other. But it was after Hector’s father died, as one of the Captains of the city guard, that Hector had no choice but join the Blackcoats himself, even though he was at the young age of twelve. Being twelve was not the issue, the issue was that Hector’s father wished his family to have a safe and comfortable life, far away from the perils the Blackcoats endured.

But, as Hector looked down at the people from his bedroom window, he felt a wave of compassion sweep over him. Even though the city guard had disbanded, he still felt as though it was his duty to help the town. Though in all honesty, he just wished for adventure. For after the Blackcoats dissolved Hector was left to find work in medial tasks such as factory off-hands and store assistants. Nothing like what he was trained for.

Hector came to his bedroom window and decided to address the crowd, accepting their quest. “Ok, I’ll go.” He said. However they just looked around at each other, wondering what he had said. For Hector was not good at projecting his voice. So he yelled out once more, as loud as he could. “OK!” He then assisted his voice with a thumbs-up gesture. And at that they cheered.

So they readied an old fishing boat with supplies. A young man, a friend of Hector’s, approached him giving him a pistol. Charlie was his name, he was about a year older than Hector, and they were both guards together. The pistol was quite a well-made, and beautifully crafted weapon. It was made of pressed oak, with two hardened steel barrels, for twice the firing power. It also had handcrafted golden inlays on the handle. No doubt the work of master weapon-smith Jacob.

“Did you make this Charlie?” Hector asked, wondering if Charlie had reached the skill level of his uncle and master.

“No. My craftsmanship is not up to par with uncle’s standard. But one day, I hope to create such weapons.” Charlie replied.

Along with Hector’s supplies, which included, about enough food and water for a month, was none other than a good old, trusty cutlass. A little bit worse for ware, but still rather sharp. ‘Probably been lying around in someone’s basement for years.’ Thought Hector. On the boat as well, was a backpack designed lantern contraption, with a wind-up generator. ‘It must have been designed by Bartholomew, the engineer.’ Hector thought again, for Bartholomew was quite amazing with his hands, and Hector always regarded the things he would build and invent to be in a class of their own.

So Hector got onto what was going to be his home for the next couple of weeks, and got ready to set sail, to find a solution. Someone in the crowd asked, “What is your plan?”

Hector thought to himself, ‘I don’t know.’ He stumbled at the question, and was thoroughly overwhelmed by the crowd, Hector didn’t really know what to say, and he knew they would not hear him. Charlie, who was still standing by Hector, saw that he was in need, and addressed the crowd on Hector’s behalf. He said, “Hector will sail to River-ton, from there he shall investigate what’s going on. Then if needed he shall travel south, beyond our borders, to where the mysterious clouds are. Now get lost, and give him some space!”

Hector turned to Charlie and gave him a thankful smile. Charlie and Hector had been friends since before they could remember. Charlie knew very well that Hector often became tongue twisted.

When there was a quiet moment, Hector asked Charlie, “Have you heard any news from Valimir? I haven’t heard from him in some time. He used to drop by quite regularly, but in the last couple months, I haven’t seen him.”

“I can’t say I have. It has been some time since I have seen him. Longer in fact than I imagine since you last saw him. I did hear, that he was living outside of town. But as you know, it’s hard finding reliable rumors in this town. If I do see him, I’ll be sure to tell him of your journey. I’d come with you, if it weren't for my leg. I’d just slow you down. You’ll have to climb those mountains for the both of us.”

Hector smiled. “I know. If it weren't for your limp, I’d have no choice but bring you with me.” Hector said. “And thanks for your kind words.”

They said their farewells and wished him luck, and Hector went on his way completely unsure and unprepared of what awaited him.

Hector became rather excited to leave town, he was quite looking forward to the adventure that awaited. Tammerville was quite a charming place to live. With its central park, backing onto the primary school, the bustling market place, chockers with the freshest produce, the majestic rail yard and station, and the rolling fields of the western farm-land surrounded by the great and mysterious Westwood forest. It was truly a peaceful town, and in late summer, which it was, quite beautiful. But Hector longed for adventure.

Hector’s childhood was dominated by his uncontrollable imagination. He was always on some sort of adventure, slaying hordes of beasts, exploring vast caverns and crevasses, rushing through landscapes on horseback. However, reality is never as interesting as your imagination. So Hector always wanted to go on a real adventure.

And now was his chance. But perhaps this journey will change his view on reality.

Well, the very thing which I doubted its existence, has shown itself to be real. And now it’s up to me to investigate. It’s funny how as I risked my life for this town in the past, instead of being rewarded, I was singled out to investigate this new threat, to risk my life once more. But I hardly know what they expect from me, I cannot do anything any different from any other, except perhaps shoot straight. But I am excited to leave, and find whatever is in store in the future.