Monday September 18th, 2017

The exercise:

Write about something that is: unsteady.

A long overdue return to the Wastelands is in order (thanks Greg for the nudge in the comments a while back). I am feeling inspired at the moment, so hopefully the next installment will not have to wait so excessively long.

It was cold enough today that I had to wear pants instead of shorts to work. First time since... May?

I even was rained on for a little bit in the afternoon.

Only 14 days of work remain.

Fall has arrived.

Mine:

I study the items in Master Francis' supply closet by the light of a fluttering, unsteady candle. My left hand is shakier than I would like it to be, but I've regained enough strength to do what I require. I think.

The sack at my feet is already mostly full of the supplies that I need but I am still in need of weapons. I am not impressed by what I've found in the closet. I grab one of Master Francis' needles and test its weight. Running from my fingertips to my elbow, it is certainly intimidating. I'd rather not get close enough to make use of it, but better safe than sorry.

I drop it into the sack and frown at the remaining options. Maybe I should have started with the tool shed where -

"Sebastien!" The automaton's form nearly fills the doorway between the workshop and the hallway leading to the bedrooms. I remind myself that I am doing nothing wrong. Well, not especially wrong.

"Xavier." A few moments of whirs and clicks pass before he speaks again. "Are you intending on killing Master Francis in his sleep?"

"What?"

"Because I must inform you that I cannot allow that."

"No, of course not! Why would I do that? Why would you think that?"

"Then what are you doing with Master's things in the middle of the night? You should be asleep. You still need to recover from your injuries."

"I have recovered enough." Close enough, anyway. "I am going to find the North Ridge Brigands."

"And what do you plan to do once you find them?"

"Blow one of their ships from the sky." The candle is shaking badly now, so I set it down on a nearby workbench. "With as many of them aboard it as possible."

"Ah, you wish to avenge the deaths of your friends."

"I had no friends aboard my ship," I tell him and it is true. I respected Captain Miranda but we rarely spoke. The crew meant little to nothing to me. They were a means to an end, that was all. "This is about the principle of the thing. A man cannot be blasted out of the sky and then walk away without a proper response. That would be cowardice."

"I see." A lengthier pause this time, filled with grinding and clicks. I'm beginning to wonder if Sebastien has malfunctioned when he says, "I will go with you."

"What? You can't abandon Master Francis like that."

"I will reprogram Scout V42 so that it can perform my duties for our Master during my absence. I have done it before."

"Okay... but why would you want to help me?"

"The Brigands are not good people, Xavier. They have done harm to many innocent men and women... and automatons. I will not miss an opportunity to see them pay for their misdeeds. If you are able to get even with them in the process, all the better."

"Oh, I do not intend to get even, Sebastien," I say with a grim smile. "I intend to come out of this well ahead. Those bastards owe this pilot a ship."