The Waystation Ch.27 (Patreon)

Chapter 27

The Approach II

Lowes watched Reed lean over the Balcony of their room in the Bear’s Fall.

“You’re going to fall if you lean much further out.” He said casually.

“I doubt that, darling.” Reed smiled.

“Still, it makes me nervous,” Lowes admitted.

“Fine, I’ll be good.” Reed smiled and stood back a little. “That machine is moving off again soon.”

“The Hudson Express.” Lowes corrected. He was a stickler for correctness.

“Is that really what he called it?” Reed grinned. “A bit arrogant, isn’t it?”

“Honestly? I think he just wanted a name that sounded… what was the word he used? …cool?” Lowes sighed.

“You realize a machine like that could flatten an army?” Reed shook his head.

“Oh, and more.” Lowes smiled crookedly. “Imagine what this Waystation could be?”

“And they show no sign of seeking power?” Reed asked, for about the tenth time in their short stay.

“Travel, exploration, and selling tacos seem to be the limit of their interests,” Lowes said. “I took a small liberty….”

“What did you do?” Reed groaned.

“I offered to kill the leaders of the Guild or any Nobles that were chasing them,” Lowes admitted guiltily.

“And?” Reed asked.

“Bert asked what the point of it would be,” Lowes said flatly.

“Pardon?” Reed looked aghast. “To free themselves of a nuisance and a threat.”

“I mentioned that. Bert simply shrugged and said someone else would always want them dead. Kill one, and you make two more that seek revenge.”

“Not if you are thorough,” Reed smiled confidently.

“Yes, dear, but it seems Bert is not interested in wiping an entire country off the map.” Lowes raised an eyebrow at his husband.

“Strange people, these.” Reed sighed. “Is it possible they do just want to explore and have fun?”

“I think so.” Lowes looked thoughtful. “I am considering extending our stay if you would be agreeable.”

Reed’s eyes drifted back to the early morning sun glinting off the Express. “I could be persuaded.”

“You want to go with him today?” Lowes asked.

“Could we, do you think?” Reed beamed.

“I can but ask,” Lowes sighed.

Perhaps he could convince someone to let him pack some food for the trip.

=========

When Bert got out to the Express, a small group was waiting for him.

“Morning,” Bert beamed at the crowd.

“We want to come with!” Scruff almost yelled in his face.

“Sure,” Bert shrugged. “But I warn you; it’s not that exciting.”

“We did bring some food with us, have no fear.” Lowes smiled.

“Can I ride in the ballista?” Reed asked suddenly.

“If you like?” Bert said.

“My, thanks.” Reed bowed and scaled the side in a blur.

Once everyone had scrambled in, Bert got underway.

As the Hudson Express bit into the dense trees, Lowes looked nervously over at Scruff. Bert noticed and raised an eyebrow.

“Is it okay for Scruff to see all these dead bodies?” He whispered to Bert. “They are very young, and even if almost nothing is left… this is a lot of death to see so young.”

A shard of bone pinged off the windshield as if to emphasize his point.

“Can I grab some of these bones from you later?” Scruff asked as she leaned forward, pressing against the windshield. “I’ve run out of fresh corpse parts, and these might work.”

“I think she’ll be fine,” Bert said as Lowes cocked his head at the young farmer.

“That… is a strange reaction.” Lowes frowned.

“If you think that is weird, never visit her farm,” Bert laughed.

The morning passed quietly enough, with the occasional stop as someone else wanted to have a go at riding in the Ballista.

Bringing the Express to a stop, Bert called a break for lunch. As everyone got out to stretch their legs and answer calls of nature, Bert joined Lowes and Reed as they examined the road ahead.

They had cleared most of the forest, and its corpse-strewn undergrowth, but a small cluster remained ahead of them. Reed was closely examining one of the dead.

“I can see no sign of how they died.” Reed frowned.

“Something killed everything in the Dead Lands. I assume they died at the same time.” Bert shrugged.

“Yes, but how?” Lowes held a hand out over the corpse and closed his eyes. “I can sense almost no mana signature from the body.”

“Or this entire land,” Reed agreed. “The Deadlands make no sense. A spell this big should leave a strong impression behind.”

“Were there any survivors?” Bert asked.

“None,” Lowes frowned. “And no real mana signature was detected. It is simply impossible.”

“Unless they cheated,” Bert said simply.

“How so?” Lowes looked amused.

“From what I have heard, every living thing above ground was killed.” Bert mused. “And the mana in the entire Deadlands was affected, correct?”

“Broadly,” Reed nodded. “But there was no actual change in the mana levels, just that all the death naturally spiked the death mana in the entire area.”

“What about flying creatures?” Bert asked. “Did anyone notice them?”

“Well, some survived but had no reason to stay with all the plant life killed,” Lowes said.

“A big spell leaves a big signature, and it’s hard to hide,” Bert said. “What about a small one that affected a large area?”

“Explain.” Lowes seemed doubtful. “What small spell could kill everything in an area the size of the Deadlands?”

“No idea,” Bert admitted, “But what about gas? Not a poison that would leave a trace, but rather a spell to dump a load of heavy gas or….” Bert thought for a second. “What about pressure?”

“You have lost me,” Reed shook his head.

“Like a sudden change in pressure….” Lowes’s eyes went wide. “And it would be a spell affecting the air and, therefore.” He paled.

“Once the spell passes, the air is sucked up and dissipated in a second. The mana diffused naturally in an instant.” Bert nodded. “I think people described a wave passing over the area. Maybe it was a pressure wave.”

“And if the change was big enough,” Lowes shook his head. “It would have burst the plants, so they died as well.

“Seems a lot easier to do than some massive spell,” Bert shrugged. “What?”

Bert asked the two assassins staring at him in shock.

“What kind of mind can come up with that theory so fast?” Reed asked in wonder.

“It is just a simple explanation of the evidence left behind,” Bert shrugged. “We have a theory back in my world called Occam’s Razor. It boils down to the simplest theory, with the fewest parts and least number of components being most likely correct.”

They kept staring.

“So what is simpler, a massive spell that an entire world of mages can’t figure out or a simple spell used in a new way?” Bert shrugged.

“That is… genius.” Reed shook his head.

“Actually, it is the opposite of genius,” Bert laughed. “I don’t know enough to be smart about it. So I came up with the stupid way to do it.” He beamed.

“So all those mages and scholars,” Reed started.

“Tried to find a way that they would do it, not the easiest way.” Lowes finished.

“They just never considered it was a simple trick.” Bert agreed.

Reed and Lowes looked at each other and laughed.

“Can we find some shade?” Scruff called. “It’s bloody hot out here with all the trees gone.”

“Oooh, yeah!” Bert remembered. “I have the perfect thing for that.” He ran back over and climbed up into the cab of the Hudson Express. He flicked two switches, stood back, and beamed as the sides of the Hudson Express folded out. A large tent folded out on one side as pegs were launched into the ground. On the other side, a large canvas awning extended over a hatch next to a door. A smiling sloth’s face was painted above the hatch, with the word Slothy’s next to it. Bert summed some chairs and tables under the awning and headed into the compact kitchen behind the hatch.

“Who wants some lunch?” Bert called cheerfully as he checked the kitchen's specialized storage. He filled a few glasses with water and chilled them with a rune before setting them out on the counter. “I’m making tacos!”

===========

“Fire!” Bert yelled up to Reed. Ballista bolts slammed into the large rockfall that blocked the way. A distant cheering could be heard as the heavy bolts tore into the stone, breaking it up and causing it to collapse into more manageable bits.

As the dust settled, Bert could hear the click click of the Ballista release still trying to fire.

“Can I go again?” Reed called down. “That was rather fun.”

Bert laughed as Lowes tried to brush the dust off his clothes.

The Express made short work of the rockfall now that it was broken up a little. As they cleared the last of the mess out of the Waystations path, they turned their attention to the road ahead.

Or instead to the lack of it.

Climbing out of the Express, Bert whistled at the vast chasm ahead of them. Carefully approaching the edge with his grapple attached to the Express, he peered over the edge. Far below, a river raged. Very far below.

“Well, we won't be filling this one in,” Bert sighed as he backed away from the edge. “Plan B, I suppose.”

“I wonder what happened to the bridge?” Lowes asked.

“Maybe that same pressure wave,” Reed suggested.

“Probably what caused all the rock falls as well.” Bert shrugged. “Not that it matters.”

“Indeed.” Lowes bowed. “But it was a valiant effort to make it this far.”

“Huh?” Bert frowned in confusion.

“There is no way the express can pass this, let alone the Waystation,” Reed explained gently.

“Why not?” Bert asked with a laugh.

The two assassins exchanged a look.

“You can see the chasm? Even if the bridge still stood, the vehicles are way too big to cross it.” Lowes explained.

“We are Fae,” Bell said as she flew over from the Waystation. “We go where we want to.”

“Hey, Bell.” Bert grinned at her as the two other people frowned in confusion. “We about ready to go?”

“Plan B, also known as plan ‘watch Bert die horribly,’ ready to go.” She chuckled.

“You have been looking forward to doing this, haven’t you?” Bert laughed.

“Since the day we met, Bert. Since the day we met.” Bell said wistfully.

“May we know what is going on, please?” Lowes asked.

“This one you kind of have to see to believe,” Bert grinned.

Hurrying back over to the Express and climbing on top, he found Bud waiting.

One of the Waystation’s spears was loaded into the ballista with a large spool of wire behind it.

“Whenever you are ready, Bud.” Bert nodded to the skeleton. Bud activated his skills, making the ballista glow before it fired the spike in a high arc. It bit into the ground on the far side, barely a couple of meters past the edge.

“Nice shot!” Bert cheered as he dropped down to a waiting Slothy. She had another of the Waystation's giant spears with a coil of wire on her back.

Five minutes later, they made the second shot.

Small areas around the spikes began to come under the control of the Waystation. It was a prolonged process, given the large gap in the ground and the distance from the Waystation. The other spikes had been deployed around the Waystation as usual. In a few minutes, their side of the gap was under Waystation Control. It began to strengthen the ground and slowly move closer.

“Can we do the good bit now?” Bell asked, beaming excitedly.

“Yeah,” Bert chuckled nervously. “Let me get ready.”

He summoned a few deer carcasses from the Waystation and moved them to his bracer; he also made sure his hand was changed to the version with the Grapple again.

He took a deep breath and walked over to the waiting Bell.

“Good luck, Boss!” Bud called as he covered his eyes.

Bell laughed maniacally as he took his spot beneath her. Light began to gather around her in glowing arcs. As she slowly rose further into the air, a wind gathered, whipping through the pass. The glow spread from her to Bert, lifting him off the floor as he took deep calming breaths.

“Ready?” Bell asked.

“Not really,” Bert said nervously.

“GOOD!” Bell yelled as the lights suddenly shot forward.

Bert was flung up and over the gaping abyss. Far below, he caught a brief impression of rushing water before he began to drop toward the gap.

He thought he would fall into the opening for a breathless second, readying his grapple just in case, before he cleared the last of the empty space.

This was going to suck.

Bert summoned his shield as he landed. The impact knocked him unconscious, and he felt his legs break.

Blackness.

Bert came to with a gasp, spitting blood. He could feel his lungs filling. His world was pain. Both legs were broken, his shoulder was in agony, and thinking was… slow.

Bert summoned the deer carcasses and let them fall next to him.

Too far away.

Fuck.

Bert raised his shaking hand and fired his grapple into the beast, pulling it toward him as he fought to stay conscious. Once it was within reach, he cast Reclaim Flesh. After the first deer, he could drag himself over to the second.

As the last of the pain faded and his breathing returned to normal, he stood and waved back across the gap. Bell and Bud cheered on the far side as Reed seemed to be yelling about something. Lowes was patting him soothingly on the shoulder.

Walking to the nearest Waystation Spike, he sat and closed his eyes. The sooner he got this done, the better.

“Multi-Bell, reporting for duty!” Bert opened one eye to see a grinning pixie. “I am here to watch your back while you work.” She looked suspiciously around before whispering to him, “Don’t let on you know, but she was really worried about you.”

Smiling, Bert closed his eyes and dropped into the tides. This time the connection to the Waystation felt distant and fragile. No wonder the claiming of this ground was taking so long.

Bert started to feed his mana into the spike, helping it extend its reach. As the line of the claimed ground began to creep outward noticeably, he directed it to focus on expanding toward the other spike.

An hour later, the two spikes connected to each other. Bert moved to a point between them that faced the remains of the bridge. He edged the line of control over the remains and began to absorb them. On the other side, Bell was doing the same with the other end.

Once they had claimed the ground all the way to the edge and the old bridge was gone, Bert focused on forcing the control deeper into the ground.

Once it was a good few meters down, Bert stood and dumped the entire contents of his bracer on the floor. Ore fell like rain as it slowly piled up.

Bert made himself a stone chair to sit on as he remade his smelting pits on this side of the gap. He spent the next few hours tempering steel. Once the steel was cool enough, Bert had the Waystation absorb it.

Bert watched as the ballista glowed again before a whistling announced the arrival of another spike.  This one was connected to the Express instead of the Waystation. It didn’t offer much more than a stable line of tempered and spun steel to run supplies down, but it was enough.

A steady flow of baskets of bricks began to flow down the wire. As they arrived, he emptied them and handed them to the Multi-Bell that flew them back.

The next day passed quietly for Bert as he collected the stone bricks and absorbed them into his side of the Waystation’s area of control.

Another bucket arrived containing a flagon of water and a parcel of tacos. Which made a great breakfast as they started day two.

Bert sat and reached out to the Waystation. He began to build a bridge. It was not a great bridge, just a simple long extrusion of rock across the gap. The stone was strengthened by both mana and steel beams anchored deep in the rock beneath him. The actions were mirrored on the other side of the gap.

It took all day, but at around nightfall, the two pieces joined. The presence of the Waystation bloomed around him as Bert beamed. The speed of construction increased sharply. As Bert smugly sauntered across his new bridge, he felt deep satisfaction.

The first step was done.

After a good nap, Bert got back to work. The area before the bridge glowed in the night with the red glow from the tempering steel. The weapons and armor had added nicely to the metal stores, but he was keeping most of it for now. As each pit cooled, the metal was absorbed and flowed below ground, becoming steel beams that reinforced the rapidly expanding bridge.

By morning it was wide enough for the Express to cross.

Bert edged his new vehicle slowly onto the bridge, doors open and listening for warning creaks and cracks. As he edged further toward the middle of the crossing, he kept a part of his mind in the Waystation-controlled stone beneath him. He would feel any problems there first. Despite being reassured by all his senses that everything was fine, Bert could not shake the feeling that he was about to plunge through the stone like a coyote with a roadrunner craving.

As the last tracks cleared the bridge on the other side, he cheered and whooped with relief.

Safely on the other side, Bert and the Express went to work clearing the stone, trees, and other clutter on their side of the bridge. Every bit of material went into the still-expanding bridge. He went about a mile and a half until he came to the walls of the watchtowers and collapsed walls of the defensive emplacement Bell had seen.

Turning back at that point, wanting to leave them to explore later, Bert strolled confidently back over their now titanic bridge.

He was not even sure you could call it a bridge anymore. Bridges were never as wide as this. A small village could cross this village if it wanted to, buildings included.

Or a Waystation.

They kept building for another two days. Bert wanted to make absolutely sure. As such, he wove a network of Ebb runes through the bridge's core. Anything with enough mana that passed overhead could feed mana into them to strengthen the bridge significantly.

Less than a week after arriving at the fallen bridge, the Waystation slowly began to edge over the new bridge. Bert sat at the top of the tower with Bell.

She was driving as he channeled the Waystations mana into the bridge.

Despite the chill morning air, Bert was sweating. A part of him could not believe something this big could actually cross a bridge.

He was not the only one. Lowes and Reed were currently waiting on the far side of the bridge. The orcs and everyone else had chosen to stay. As time passed and more and more of the Waystation rested on the bridge, Bert began to relax. Nothing was groaning or creaking, let alone cracking as they went.

As the first of the giant tracks passed onto the solid ground on the far side, he remembered how to breathe.

As the last track on Trailer One cleared the bridge, a relieved cheer erupted from everyone in the Waystation.

Stood to one side of the bridge, two men looked at each other and shook their heads.

“That should not be possible. Stone alone does not support that much weight.” Reed said for the thousandth time.

“And yet, we have seen it,” Lowes said. “I suspect all that metal had a lot to do with it.”

“And how did he even melt that much metal?” Reed asked pointedly.

“I assume you have a theory,” Lowes said.

“Runecraft,” Reed whispered.

“Oh, please.” Lowes scoffed. “The runes are lost to this world.”

“He is not from this world,” Reed said.

“Many will want to take them from him,” Lowes said thoughtfully.

“Indeed.” Reed nodded.

“Care to hang around and kill them when they try.” Lowes smiled.

“That was my thought as well.” Reed grinned slyly.

“I suspected as much.” Lowes chuckled.

“This kind of power can rule this world,” Reed said, “And it is in the hands of a man who would befriend orcs, rescue orphans, treat a minion as an equal, and build a marvel of engineering because his pixie wants to see what is on the other side.” He sighed. “This is the kind of man that could build an empire.”

“Indeed.” Lowes said, “And all he wants to do is explore and eat tacos.”

“It is kind of beautiful, isn’t it?” Reed said.

“And all beautiful things need thorns to protect them,” Lowes said.

“It will certainly not be boring.” Reed grinned.