Book 4: Chapter 5: Chimney

Book 4: Chapter 5: Chimney

Corporal Claws, queen of the sands and fuzziest of all Fischer’s companions—yes, including Cinnamon, thank you very much—lazed in her favorite new spot. Though it wasn’t her wooden perch atop the pond Fischer had made, the rooftop she lounged on was curved in such a way to make it the perfect place to catch morning rays.

The sun seemed to beam down from every direction, bouncing off the surrounding tiles to warm her very core. Claws stretched, delighting in the slight ache of her muscles as she extended her limbs. Beside her, Cinnamon let out a soft peep and rolled to her back, exposing her stomach to the sun’s warmth.

Their sleepy eyes met for a moment, and Cinnamon gave her an appreciative nod, radiating extreme gratitude toward Claws for finding this wondrous spot. Unspoken, they both raised a forepaw and fistbumped, immediately closing their eyes and drifting back to sleep.

***

As I walked through the transformed streets of Tropica, I couldn’t help but gaze up at the surrounding people, an ever-growing smile forming on my face. It was easy to get caught up in the village's architecture, but that beauty would be nothing without the citizens moving to and fro, going about their mornings. The sun was well and truly over the rooftops now, its light having long ago shone through windows and woken the people of Tropica.

A river of humanity moved around us, some so engrossed that they didn’t even notice our passage. The eyes that did recognize us showed a range of emotions, and I was saddened to see fear on more than a few faces. It wasn’t surprising, though, considering recent events. Only a few short weeks ago, it might have made me second-guess myself. Question if I was really adequate enough to lead. Now, I knew that didn’t matter, and was instead grateful for the majority of the crowd that did trust me.

As if sensing my thoughts, Maria squeezed my hand and grinned up at me when I glanced her way. Though we were on the receiving end of many a smile and wave, no one stopped to chat. Before long, we rounded a corner and caught sight of the granary.

“Finally!” Geraldine called, resting a hand on her hip and failing to look genuinely bothered. “We thought you had both changed your mind!”

“Sorry,” I replied. “We got embroiled in some tomfoolery. Completely out of our control.”

The look in Geraldine’s eye told me exactly what she thought of that statement.

“So,” George said. “Where did you have in mind to create this roastery, Fischer?” He glanced at his wife. “We discussed it most of the night and couldn’t come up with anywhere that made sense.”

“That’s a sensible answer to reach,” Maria said, “because where he wants to put it makes absolutely no sense.”

The former lord and lady of Tropica both raised an eyebrow at me, only increasing my enjoyment of the moment. I shrugged. “That’s not entirely true. It makes perfect sense to someone like me. A man of perfect intellect, unbridled wisdom, and unparalleled—”

“Humility,” Maria finished, cutting me off. “Yeah, yeah. We know.”

I faked a pout, hiding the joy I got from her finishing my sentence, even if it was at the cost of my punchline.

Geraldine nodded, shooting an amused glance at George. “Well, given that our intellect, wisdom, and humility are lacking, I suppose you will just have to tell us where it’s going. Because I have no idea.”

“Gladly!” I took a deep breath, spread my arms wide, then bent at the waist to gesture at the building behind them. “We’re going to put it inside the granary!”

They frowned and looked at each other, countless thoughts exchanged wordlessly with their expressions.

George sighed and shook his head. “If anyone else had said that they were going to put an oven inside a granary, I’d have laughed. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised.” He grabbed Geraldine by the hand and led her toward the door. “Come on, dear. We’d better go along with it.”

She let go of his hand and looped an arm through his. “Certainly. If we push back, he might just choose an even worse place to build it. Like one of the sheds filled with sugar-cane mulch.”

“Or our bedroom.”

“That would be a bother, wouldn’t it?”

“You know,” I said to Maria, crossing my arms. “I think I liked it better when they were deathly afraid of me.”

A few hours later, back within the walls of the granary and smiling at the world, I snapped my fingers.

Our created items appeared in a flash of light, sorting themselves into a neat pile. The bulk of the mass was made up of the various metal parts George, Geraldine, and I had created in the smithy. I pursed my lips as I bent to inspect the components that Maria had created, running a finger over a collection of wooden handles. “Wow. These are marvelous. If I didn’t know better, I’d have assumed they were System-made. They’re so smooth.”

“Learned from the best,” she replied, shooting me a wink. “But I’m more impressed with this funnel-looking-thing you made. How did you get it so uniform?”

“That was him, actually.” I nodded toward George, and Geraldine rested a hand on his upper back.

“My husband is a natural at most things.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” George said, a blush coming to his face. “I just followed Fischer’s instructions.”

“George, mate, acting humble is my thing. Just take the compliment.”

“Riiight,” Maria drawled. “Humble.”

“It’s a hard gig, but someone’s gotta do it. Anyway, that’s enough about me. Let’s get this party started. I just need to pick the spot for the chimney...” I wandered around and stared up at the ceiling, rubbing my chin as I picked the perfect spot. “Right...” I took a half-step to the side. “Here.”

Maria gave me a confused look. “Why there? Wouldn’t it make sense to put the chimney in the corner of the room where the roaster is going?”

“You’ll just have to trust me on this one. I promise it’ll make sense when it’s finished. We need to ensure we picture the same thing.” I pointed directly up. “So, chimney here, okay?”

We’d spent the morning joking around at every possible opportunity, but at my words, their faces grew serious. One and all, they nodded. I strode back over to the components, taking a seat on the floor in front of them. Maria, George, and Geraldine followed my lead, coming to sit on the other three sides.

With an ease not possible before my last breakthrough, I slipped into a meditative state.

I pictured what I wanted to create, planting it firmly in my mind’s eye. Wireframe schematics unfurled in exquisite detail, more intricate than ever before. It was a side-effect of the System regaining its functionality; even the newest of cultivators now had access to basic images of what they were creating. I, however, was no new cultivator. The three-dimensional blueprint in my mind continued growing, merging with the building we were within.

As one, George, Geraldine, and Maria joined me. The former two paused for the barest of moments, having not built anything with me since the changes. They swiftly recovered, however, their wills rushing to follow my lead. With our intents indistinguishable from each other, the components moved into place, connecting seamlessly. In a burst of light, a pulse of euphoria washed over us, signifying that the creation was finished.

Before the wonderful feelings could completely leave my body, I was already moving from the room.

“... Fischer?” Maria asked, staring at me as I walked out the door. “What are you—”

There was a loud bang as something hit the first bend in the chimney. Maria whirled, lifting her face to follow the sound as it made its way downward. There were multiple scratching sounds before a soft thud came from within the newly constructed coffee roaster, followed by another. A beat of palpable silence spread throughout the room, the air growing so tense that you could cut it with a knife.

Maria was the first to realize what I’d done. “Run!” she yelled, sprinting past George and Geraldine.

“What—” George began, but was interrupted by a loud boom as the doors of the furnace compartment were blown open. Smoke and vapor emanated from the furnace, lit from within by blue, crackling electricity. Side by side, two fur-covered beings strode out, murder dripping from their otherwise-adorable features.

“Oh...” George said, taking a step back and raising his hands. “It wasn’t us. We had no idea. Fischer—”

His attempt at peace was drowned out by the sounds of Claws and Cinnamon rocketing forward.