act17mini

Three times, I think.

The gang meeting has started. I shouldn't have spent so much time shopping today.

It may not be too late. I think they'll wait for the Consultant...

Fair point. A gang meeting without the Consultant is basically a brawl.

Hmm...

Well, it's your lucky day, Nymph. Or maybe unlucky day. Come on, let's get this trouble all fixed up.

Huh? No, wait! You don't even know what's going on...

I'll tell you my theory on the way, and you can correct me, if I'm wrong.

Beastshit! No goddamned way!

That courtyard was given to us by the Military Commission, and the Consultant signed off on all business on these streets! Why should we move out just because you say so?

Calm down, Barrel, this isn't personal. As for you, Beck, you need to watch your words.

As if I'm wrong, Ebony?

Why should these Head-Sellers be allowed to take our turf after spending so many years on the outside?

You weren't the boss of your gang when the Consultant gave them those two blocks.

You know what, I should have kicked the old man off his seat sooner. I wouldn't have let the Head-Sellers set foot in here if I was in the room back then.

Say that again, I dare you.

Don't just stand there staring, pull them apart! You should get your mouth slapped, Beck. They were out there risking their lives for us.

And you, Barrel, stop being such a hard-head! Beck could run his mouth all day, but none of it matters until the Consultant gets here.

Stop defending them, Ebony! Who gives a damn about the Consultant? How many men does he have? How many blades does he have?

Not as many men as you. But blades? That's hard to say.

Consultant.

Consultant!

Consultant?!

Who's the Djall?

Oh, don't mind me, I'm just...

...I'm the Consultant's assistant! I'm here to help him take minutes.

Yeah, my wrist's been hurting lately. You could take her place, if you have problem with it.

Oh, I forgot, you can't read.

Well, everyone's here. Let's get started... unless someone has something important to do.

Not at all. We're all waiting on you to decide how to split the piece of iron.

The cloth over it is pulled away, stirring up a cloud of dust. Nymph covers her nose with the back of her hand and squints at what lay underneath.

It is a large rock that has been touched by fire and smoke, with broken Originium pieces scattered across the surface. Underneath the cracked exterior are honeycomb-shaped rust marks.

The woman, whom the others called Ebony, takes out a screwdriver and pries a small piece of rust from the crack. Light shines through the smoke upon it, reflecting a faint blue glow.

The device on Nymph's wrist trembles, as though it just felt a chill.

Looks like there's a fair bit of Oriron. Is this it?

I think so...

(*whispers*) But Ermi said the detector would sound an alarm. Why is it quiet?

The Oriron extracted from a piece this big could feed you all for a month. But who's going to extract it? All these little Originium bits on it are like mini-bombs, if not properly processed.

Some of my guys had an ironworking shop on the Columbian frontier.

You'll roast it like you roast your potatoes?

Shut the *Sarkaz expletive* up if you don't know what you're talking about. I can always cut it up before processing it.

That won't work. The Originium fragments are unstable. They could go off at any time.

We've done business with the furnace node manager over by the western wall. Should we ask him?

Didn't you understand? The fragments are unstable. You think he would risk blowing up his furnace?

Don't forget where the fireworks last night came from. If the big shots catch you, whether it's the Military Commission—

Or the Liches, who have a slightly grim opinion of you fellas—

You know what's gonna happen. Not my problem if it's just your own graves that you're digging, but not when you might leave the rest of us starving.

Is there no place in Kazdel that would take it? You're not telling us to send it back where it came from, are you?

You're getting ahead of yourself, Ebony. We haven't gotten the Oriron out yet. Besides, just because no one will take it in Kazdel doesn't mean no one will take it out there.

Some smugglers will do anything, no matter how dangerous. You might take a hefty haircut on it, but it's better than leaving it to rot in your hands.

How big of a haircut are we talking?

How should I know? It's not my area of expertise. This is what I do as a consultant: I tell you how to cut the cake fairly, but I'm never the one to actually cut it.

How can we be sure the difference won't end up in your pocket?

What are you saying, Beck? Apologize to the Consultant, now!

To him? I don't understand why you're so polite with this guy. Have things been peaceful for so long that you forgot where you should be pointing your blade?

I say he's in league with the noble masters up in the towers. He makes it so we don't get to fight or eat, so we end up fixing the walls for them!

Why would he help the Head-Sellers take my turf? I've lived in Kazdel since the day I was born. Why should I give my house to some slugs who haven't set foot here in decades?

Draw your blade. Nobody's gonna say I killed an unarmed man.

*Sarkaz expletive*, give it a rest, both of you! You can fight it out yourselves once we've got the food.

Put your blades down, NOW!

Ahem. I guess someone forgot what my job is.

I just give advice. You decide to take it or not.

I know a few smugglers, but let's just say it'd take some credit for them to handle such a hot potato.

Sorry about Beck, Consultant. He's still young...

I'm not that old either, Ebony.

I know some of you don't trust me and think that I am where I am thanks to luck alone. That's fine.

We listen to you because you know your stuff. A full belly doesn't lie. Only greedy fools...

Beep! Beep!

Everyone looks in the direction of the noise to see the Djall, who claims to be the Consultant's assistant, reaching out to the piece of iron with a strange box.

She almost has it.

Beep—Beep—

Beep!

Oh, crap, the timing...

What are you doing?! Get your hand off our Oriron!

*Sarkaz expletive*, almost let you sneak it out under my nose!

What's the deal, Consultant?

I've got the door. They're not getting out.

Your rules say the penalty for stealing in this room is a lost hand, Consultant. You pick, Djall. Left or right?

She's not stealing. I asked her to... measure the Oriron content in the rock.

Uh, that's right! It's so high, it made my detector go haywire!

Be careful. I didn't hire you to give me a heart attack.

S-Sorry.

I'm not sure I believe you, <i>Consultant.</i> You think we aren't watching you?

It's one thing to help the Head-Sellers; at least they're sticking their necks out. But working with the tower-dwellers? That's another beast.

Why would a Djall girl in a pretty dress like that work as your assistant?

These are old clothes from my mom and dad. I just cut them to fit me...

That has nothing to do with what we're talking about today. The more important thing here is how we turn this piece of iron into food, isn't it?

How about this, I'll get someone willing to go over the walls to bring some food and take away this ticking time bomb, and then you can take your time to figure out how to share the food.

I changed my mind. Food's gone once you eat it. I want blades, Oriron! Oriron, and one hand from this thief. Do we have a deal?

Can you extract the Oriron?

I won't ask about your connections, Beck. You want the piece of iron, you can have it, but you got to supply our share of the food. Do the Broken Horns have that much food?

Didn't the Consultant call this a time bomb? You want food from me when I'm helping you solve a problem?

It fell in our yard. Food or Oriron, the Veteran's Home takes the biggest share.

Hah! Those streets belong to Broken Horns! You don't even get leftovers!

We'll follow the Consultant's rules. Everyone here gets a share. The mercenaries get an additional share to repair their roof.

Why does HE get to set the rules? Why not me?

Don't think for a second that we're scared of the Broken Horns, Beck.

You'll be arguing for the next hundred years at this rate. If the Broken Horns want this iron so much, they can have it.

Consultant...?

Let me finish. Any damages resulting from mishandling by the Broken Horns will also be Beck's responsibility.