Page 29 of Red Demon
Ash got back to his engraving. The afternoon sun lowered its slant through the dusty window, casting shadows across the worn stone floor as I got back to my hammering.
When I heard the soft chime of the shop bell, I yelled that I was on my way, washing my hands before heading over.
Sunlight sliced through the smokey air of the shop, giving the young woman before me a golden aura. She stared at me agape with Chaeten eyes. Maybe it was my matching eyes that startled her, maybe it was my smudged and dirty tunic from the hard work next door. Our regulars were used to my face, but I’d never seen her before, and this was no barrack soldier picking up an order. She wore an emerald sundress that complimented chestnut skin, with styled raven-black hair shining across her shoulders. In her hands, she held a small, strange metal box with a display panel.
“Can you repair electronics here?” She nodded to the Chaeten fabricator in the workshop and stood tall. “I heard you might be my best chance.”
“Ash,” I called out, a smile in my voice.
The girl froze, every muscle tense. I wasn’t sure why.
“Asher is your best bet for any delicate work.” I patted the counter for her to place the box there.
“Asher?” she said, just as he walked up. “Ooooh.” She laughed, her voice tinkling like sunlight on a stream. “I’m Ashmira. My friends call me Ash too, so for a second—” She put a hand on her mouth and got a hold of herself. “Anyway, nice to meet you. What’s your name?”
“Jesse Eirini.” I crossed my arms, smiling. “Are you used to your reputation preceding you? I’m afraid I’m out of the loop. Good reputation or bad?”
“My brilliance is greatly exaggerated, I expect.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’m fond of Ashes. Already found one good one.”
“Jesse and the Ashes might work as the name for a musical troupe. Do you play anything?”
“First-Ash plays mandolin, and I can manage drums.” I turned to Asher as he arrived beside me. He stared at her, mouth slightly ajar. I kicked him under the booth so he’d get his shit together and interact with a human like a human, or at the very least, a customer.
“Anyway, what do you got there?” I gestured to the metal box about the size of a large coffee mug. There was a little door on it, and those panels looked very complex. The more I stared at the thing, the more I wondered why she’d bring it to us.
She leaned in on the desk, her voice just above a whisper. “A code sequencer.”
I said “No fucking way” while Asher squeaked out something that sounded like “What?”
A code sequencer could not only read genetics from a sample, it could be used to build mods. This machine belonged in an empire academy or an expensive doctor’s office, not our forge at the edge of the empire. Voids, we had to get a permit at the temple for my coffee machine.
“I have so many questions,” I whispered, leaning in. “Starting with ‘How’d you get something like that?’ and ending with ‘Why are you coming to a blacksmith instead of a Chaeten engineer to fix it?’”
She looked to Asher, her head high. “Was there a biotechnology lab I missed in town? Maybe behind the stables?”
“The temple priests are probably your best bet,” Asher offered.
“Unless she lacks a permit,” I wondered aloud, and watched her eyes widen. “Which she does.”
She snatched the machine from the counter.
“We won’t tell anyone,” Asher rushed to add, eying me in warning. “I’ll take a look now.”
This surprised me. If our taam was here, he’d have already sent her away. But the look my brother gave me meant she passed the dahn-check. He trusted her.
She sighed in relief. “I didn’t steal it. It was broken. My Academy in Thebos threw it out. A Z’har there said I could keep it.”
A Z’har that didn’t have the access to transfer the permit, I noted, but didn’t say aloud.
“I think there’s just a bad circuit in the power supply. The drive tested clean, software intact.” She studied our faces. “I’m stumped so far. But I heard you keep a full-scale fabricator working here, so—” She looked at one of the swords in the display case. Then she leaned in, her face pinched. “Did you engrave that mazework or did the machine?”
Asher followed her gaze. “Hand-engraved; my work.”
She stared at him, assessing. “It’s exquisite.” She ran her fingers over the display case.
Asher ducked down and pulled it out of the casing, holding it atop thick velvet. “You like swords?”
