NaNoWriMo 2017: Reach-3

REACH-3

EXT. ABOVE WISDOM FOUNDRY - DAY

If the Foundry had looked more like a mideval guildhall before, not it resembles nothing so much as a clockwork piece of Brutalism. The grounds stretch more than the size of the small village it started within, easily a mile or more on a side. It slopes as it rises from well-tended stone streets, a series of buildings built of white marble-like stones, cogs and belts and other less namable things protruding out at need.

The center building is the largest, five city blocks and spreading. The white walls punch upwards for tens of floors, a truncated pyramid. The center still retains an opening, a shaft dropped through the bulding within. It reeks of volcano with its lowered floor of lava or the top of a Rook's piece.

INT. WISDOM FOUNDRY BUILDING 5, FLOOR 1, HALLWAY

It bustles. Men and women going about work or schooling, dressed in recognizably quality and functional casual clothing are everywhere. From appearances, the tech level would be something around 1910. Fixtures and equipment have that smooth curve and subtle shine of plastic for the first time. There's a buzz in the air, an excitement.

An old man, probably in his 90's, stands in the midst of the hall, leaning on his elaborate cane (inscribed with gears and formulae). He nods in recognition as people go past and they deferentially smile and give him room to stand.

AMANDA

(OS)

There you are! I've been looking all over for you.

A woman, probably statuesque in her prime, smiles and slides up behind the man. Today, she's only slightly younger than he, and her grab from behind is affectionate.

DOUGLASS

(beginning to smile wider)

Well, my love, you know I love to watch the new classes come in during the first Hell Week. Lets you get them straight in the eyes, know how bad they're having it.

AMANDA

Liar. You're just looking at freshman girls and imagining old conquests!

DOUGLASS

You're absolutely right! I was thinking of you!

They have a playful kiss in the midst of the hustle and bustle, and several walking by try not to smile. It wouldn't be seemly.

AMANDA

It's almost time for instruction and you're out here woolgathering. Tsk.

DOUGLASS

As if the man that forged the bell doesn't know what time it rings.

You're right, though. I should be moving on. Lunch, then?

She smiles with definite interest.

AMANDA

Dinner. At that little Korsal place down from the meltery. I've heard a rumour that Mikel and Sue will be out and about.

DOUGLASS

That's good news. We hardly get to speak anymore.

AMANDA

Go! Shoo! There's students to teach.

They both laugh, exchange a quick peck, and set off in opposite directions. Neither moves like a man or woman of their age but far younger. If anything, Douglass' cane lets him swagger more than a little.

INT. WISDOM FOUNDRY BUILDING CORE, SUBFLOOR 8, FORGES

If they were large before, now they're truly enormous. The bottom floors of the Wisdom Foundry are given over to the grinding, melting, and processing of ores and stones. The massive machines aren't the delicate fabrications of clockwork and style as seen elsewhere in the facility but heavy, solid hydraulics, full of pumping cylinders and the hiss of compression. Open pits of liquid stones and metals glow like the pits of Hell, with men in silvery suits and squat helmets checking the machines as they work.

One team wrestles with a huge valve, two men shoving and grunting to turn it.

MIKEL

Easy, easy. It's hard to get started but too easy to keep going. We want a drain, not a spew.

He stands back a bit and, like Douglass, leans a bit on an elaborate cane inscribed with the sigils of the Foundry. The suit makes it hard to judge his appearance, but through the faceplate he looks older than Douglass, craggy and wrinkled.

SUE

Hey, hey, hey now! Step off, Julian. Step off, you heard me! Let the old man give it a try.

Sue comes in from the other side; unlike Mikel he looks quite different. Right arm and leg are definitely not human flesh, or even covered by the suit, but something hardier. Not clockwork, but reminiscent, not metal-skinned but some kind of bakelite, He moves as easily as many, steps in closer, and braces his mechanical fist and leg before beginning to push.

SUE

What, you're just going to let an old man do your job for you? Kids today.

The crew looks abashed and puts their backs into it once more.

There's creaking, grunting, and the wheel slowly begind to turn. Mikel taps steadily on an analogue display, the needle swinging slowly back up into a marked green region.

MIKEL

Hold! I think that's got it, boys. No more leaking obsidian this day!

The men give a quick cheer. Sue pumps his mechanical fist in the air before clasping another member's hand and shaking it with real appreciation.

SUE

Is there anything brute force can't do?

MIKEL

Grow decent flesh, apparently. You still getting suits custom-tailored, I see.

SUE

And you like ordering lesser men around without putting your back into it.

They glare at each other through their faceplates. Sue's face is even craggier than Mikel's, with eyes too blue to be real.

Then they grin.

MIKEL

Just like old times.

SUE

Let's get the Hell out of here and out of these suits. They make my balls itch.

MIKEL

You still have balls? How inefficient of you.

Mikel slaps Sue on the back, muted by the thick gloves of the suit, as they head out.

INT. WISDOM FOUNDRY BUILDING CORE, FLOOR 2, COMMINSARY

Somehow, all cafeterias look the same, even if the appointments are different. People eating, focused on their books or reports or newspapers. Lines. A primitive automat.

Mikel and Sue enter together. Students and workers nod and smile in reply to Mikel's greetings but Sue's gruff hails are restricted to just a few of the dingier engineers who respond with a grim tightening of the lips and a respectful nod.

Mikel is dressed in comfortable, clean robes of a dark grey, hood pulled back, marked with the symbols of a teacher of the Forge. He has a cane as well and leans on it heavily, not for appearance-sake but favouring his left leg. Long white hair falls over his collar.

Sue wears the jumpsuit of the engineers and, if anything, wears the grime on it with some satisfaction. Both sleeves are ripped off at the shoulder, one veiny old-man arm and one polished blue-grey cybernetic on casual display. The leg of his pants is ripped off at the hip as well, a subtly gleaming machine-joint at the hip. While his clothes may be grungy, his prothesis are pristine. A wrinkled scalp gave up its claim to hair decades ago. He wears his teacher's cane on his back like a sword.

MIKEL

You don't mind disturbing the newbies, I see.

A cluster of younger Foundry attendants pull closer to one another as they go by, warily eying Sue's cyb.

SUE

Might as well get used to seeing it. Eventually the medical bunch'll get its shit together and pay attention to old Bill.

MIKEL

And you just like being the center of attention.

SUE

Bah!

Mikel smiles smugly as they walk to the automat. Plinks in some coins, comes away with a thick pork sandwich.

Sue moves down the way, plinks his own coins in and pulls out a huge haunch of meat.

Mikel's not the only one that lifts a brow.

MIKEL

You can get a whole cow here?

Sue shrugs with his flesh-shoulder.

SUE

Takes a lot of energy to run this stuff. I'd think an old man like you would want to keep his strength up.

MIKEL

I'm not that much older than you! A few days, at best!

SUE

You look it. Why don't you go in to get that leg looked at?

Mikel scowls.

MIKEL

Hacked off, you mean?

SUE

Maybe more of a gentle slicing motion.

A snort answers him.

MIKEL

I'm doing alright for my age, thank you very much. All the bits work and all the pieces are just like they came from the factory.

SUE

You should send a letter to your designer; shitty job of designing for wear and long-term use.

Mikel gets some fresh bread from the table. Puts it on his plate with a negligent drop.

MIKEL

Blasphemy will get you everywhere.

Sue ladles mashed potatoes and gravy in a scarily vast pile around his haunch.

SUE

Usual spot?

MIKEL

No, I think somewhere in the sun would be better. My bones ache.

SUE

Joy, I get to spend my lunch with an old man with achy bones stretched out in the sun. My life is complete.

MIKEL

Your life won't be complete until you replace your old wrinkled asshole with a shiny chrome spout.

SUE

You think I could? Because hemorroids are fucking terrible.

MIKEL

You're terrible.

A shared, quiet chuckle as they move to a table at the side in slanted bars of sunlight.

SUE

I'm excellent. I'm not maimed, I have a job where I'm well respected and just a little feared, and odds are that I'll live at least fifty more years if I feel like bothering.

MIKEL

I'm -- only mildly maimed?

It's Sue's turn to arch a hairless brow.

MIKEL

Slightly maimed.

SUE

By old age and happenstance. Mostly old age.

Mikel scowls a bit more even as Sue tilts his chair back and puts his flesh-leg up in a neighbboring chair.

MIKEL

Another fifty years and you might start feeling it.

Sue points with the haunch, chewing thoughtfully.

SUE

Let's hope not. A hundred at least. And why are you so adamant about taking the juve treatments, anyway?

Mikel stares out the window, wistful.

MIKEL

Do you remember when we started at the Foundry? So young, energetic, expectant --

SUE

Stupid.

MIKEL

Stupid. So much of life you can only learn by doing it, screwing it up. So much you can only learn by being beaten up, beaten down, beaten to death, really. And that's really why, I think.

SUE

You love learning so you need to be beaten to death? Mikel, my friend, my honourable pal, if you'd wanted to be beaten to death all you needed to do was ask...

And he flexes the thick metal fingers into a fist with a grin.

MIKEL

Shameless, you and your obsession with fisting.

No, I just don't think it's right. It's not wrong, obviously, but it's not the right thing for me to do. I need to see death coming to run fast enough.

Sue sighs and takes a big bite of haunch, then potatoes shoveled in to quiet him.

SUE

I'll take everything they've got and I'll come up with more myself. If death comes strolling up, I want to punch the bastard in the face before I spit on the rag pile. Taken too many good people, he has. And bad people who needed a good poundin' they never got before they went with the bony fuck.

Mikel absently toys with the top of his cane as he watches the clumps of workers and students going to and fro outside the window.

MIKEL

Maester Smith and Maester Smoke -- how old do you think they are?

SUE

Fifteen, twenty thousand years old. At a guess.

Mikel just stops dead, breath held. Turns to look at Sue with huge eyes.

MIKEL

What?

SUE

At least that, really. They're a great topic of converasation among engineers. The meds use tones of reverent awe they only use when talking about the mysteries of the human endocrine system or some such shit. The guys working on cybs constantly are calculating what they must have under the skin based on their works. Me, I just know they're old as shit and know more than they're teaching us -- and that's more than we'd ever know on our own.

MIKEL

What kind of life...?

SUE

A long and good one, to judge by what we see of them. Lukas is kind of an ass but Bill's an okay sort.

MIKEL

An immortal ass?

SUE

Time to perfect it, I guess.

They sit in ccompanionable silence a little while.

MIKEL

Dinner with Douglass and Amanda tonight at the Korsal place?

SUE

Yeah. Should be a good time. You still owe me money on that one.

Mikel gives a rueful grin.

MIKEL

He still hasn't asked her out.

SUE

What? It's been, what, a hundred years?

MIKEL

Thereabouts. She does all the asking. Demanding, too, so I understand.

SUE

Figures. One day, though! I'll get your money.

MIKEL

(laughing)

One day.

In the mean, time to get back to the youngsters.

SUE

And I've got asses that need a boot here and there down core.

They clasp hands hard, flesh to flesh. Eye to eye.

MIKEL

We should do this more often.

SUE

We should.

(beat)

Love you, brother.

MIKEL

I love you, too. Be safe, and if you can't be safe, get cool gear.

SUE

(grinning)

Nothing safe in the deeps, so gear it is.

They stand, Mikel more achingly and unsteadily than Sue, before exchanging another hug and heading to seperate doors.