Gears A-Turnin'

     What was a mining company without many miners?

    Not much, as Mr. Carver glanced at his bank accounts on his laptop, as well as stock exchanges. Normal humans simply could not mine at the rate a dwarf can, nevermind a whole organization of them. There were a few rare finds in other caves, such as Ossium crystals and some amber-looking things the dwarves called Resinite, but unfortunately, normal humans could not handle a swarm of scarabs the size of house cats (or Scrabs, as the Dwarves called them), nor the zippy flying Macteras, nor the glyphids that were harassing them away from the more dangerous parts of the caves by nipping at their ankles. 

    He winced as his bank account’s hoard dropped lower, as insanely high insurance premiums took a massive bite out of his stash. If only he didn’t have to offer health insurance.

    So what were his options, then? He had thought about it long and hard these past four and a half months. He could go public, get a couple shareholders in here. But then he wouldn’t own the company, now would he? Not only that, there were rumors of some corporate religious nutcases coming in and buying out failing businesses, and he was not about to get wrapped in that sort of nonsense. Especially since their leader looked like a pharaoh in a pre-made coffin in his shape with stock prices scrolling on them. Who would actually take a guy like that seriously? Besides religious nutcases and kissasses?

    Deep Rock Galactic had a rival company, aptly named Rival Corps. They didn’t blacklist the Carver Mining Company like DRG did. Maybe he could grab some of their tech? He did invest in some of their tech, but for the most part, it looked more like it was for protecting assets and stealing data rather than any actual heavy-duty mining equipment. And they had a stupid looking upside-down pyramid that could secure so much stuff! Perfect for that Corporate Pharaoh, and definitely not for Mr. Carver.

    Okay, he definitely bought the Pyramid. Stored all the bits and pieces of inert Zenoxite and even a few slivers of active Zenoxite in there. Kobbers would come sniffing for them, they always do. Better to have the precious things safe. Very, very precious.

    What other options did Mr. Carver have? Not the Kobbers, Brandon made that perfectly clear. Not Concord, they’re defunct. Not Fafnir Inc, he wasn’t gonna be beholden to some gremlin of a man and his babysitter. So what else?

    The answer came in the form of a phone call. He nearly fell out of his plush leather seat at the sound and scrambled to pick it up and put on his best grin.

 “Hello, Carver Mining Company?”

“ ‘Eeeey, Andy!” a woman’s voice blared through the other end with a blatantly fake British accent.

Andrew Carver’s lip twitched along with his left eye. “Oh, why HELLO, Sandra! SO good to hear from you! How long has it been? Two years?”

    He heard a loud huff, followed by, “Oy, oy, OY!!! It’s Sandia Clockhouse III to you, you blimey git! And it’s been FIVE years!”

    Andrew rolled his eyes. Of course it was. Why wouldn’t it be? Always had to be something fancy to go along with her stupid accent and her stupid outfit and her stupid obsession with anything gear-shaped. His own gears started turning in his head, though. Maybe he can work with this. “Of COOOOURSE! It’s been SO long, Sandia! So, tell me, what have you been up to lately? Making those clockwork dinosaurs of yours? Steam-powered vacuum cleaner? Maybe even a Steampunk Worm-On-A-String?”

    “Oh, I’ve been makin’ and makin’ and makin’ all day and night, Andy!” The sheer glee on the other side was enough to unnerve Andy for just a moment. “I have a workin’ model of a Steampunk Compsognathus. Works on steam like a dream! Nobody’s on the market fer one of those yet: Biosyn’s more lookin’ for the rare stuff. Though really, who wants a plain fuddy-duddy dinosaur when you can get yourself a self-sustaining one from yours truly? It can dance, it can sing, it can even breathe steam out hot enough to smooth out the wrinkles in your face!

Steam-powered vacuum cleaner? I’ll do ya one better: vacuum cleaner AND steamer! Wet and dry! Good on a whole matter of flooring! Got detachable doo-dads and whats-its to even work for your clothes and couches!” Sandia paused to catch her breath and continued, “Almost got one working, I’ll send you one! And as for that Worm-on-a-String-”

    Andrew clutched at his phone, his grin wavering. This idiot possibly couldn’t have made a Worm-on-a-String with gears. No, she’s not THAT stupid. 

    “Got no such thing under my belt!” He sighed. Thank god. “But I did nick some stuff from your sister’s company as it was dissolvin’ and made me a steampunk worm the size of that one worm them Kobbers fought! The big ‘un from another planet!” 

His jaw nearly hit the floor at the thought of not only stealing from ANDREA, but also copying some Kobber enemy like nothing. It had to be a lie, right? It had to be. But what if it wasn’t? Andrew slow-blinked and put his grin back on as he asked, “Oh, yeah? And what does it do?”

“Lots! Like minin’ dirt so fast, it can make a dwarf look like a kid with a garden trowel. It’s got bits and bobs and sentries on each segment that can detach and shoot out balls of steam and the occasional laser, it can detach at segments to be more compact and cover more ground, it’s entirely steam powered- obviously- and best of all, its flexible and long enough to constrict and turn a whole T-Rex into paste if it needs to!”

Andrew’s eyes lit up like a Christmas Tree at the mere thought of something like that digging deep and getting that Resinite, which could have all sorts of weird dead things in there. Even dead things BioSyn might BUY! Not to mention the Ossium- might not have been enough for a bird with a microwave, but certainly other companies might want to make better use of it. As much as he… disliked… Sandra - Sandria- Sandia - Dia- Whatsherface, he just needed to reel her in. Just needed to shove his ego all the way to the back and… work with her.

“Well, ain’t that just IMPRESSIVE!” he said. “Absolutely MARVELOUS work, Ms. Clockhouse III! In fact, it’s so incredible, I’m willing to hire you and your worm right here and now! When’s the best time you can swing by Argo and give a demonstration of your new invention?”

Sandia didn’t speak for a minute. Andrew broke into a sweat: was she onto him? Did it sound too good to be true? Did she remember that he totally didn’t invite her to his 16th birthday party at an adventure park not because of space issues, but because she would not shut the hell up about steampunk anything?!?

“You really gonna give me a job, just like that?”

Oh, god damn it. Andrew grit his teeth to maintain his grin, even if it hurt his lips. “Of COURSE! I mine, you have a worm that can mine, you BUILT the worm, so we have much to gain together!”

“Mmmm. Where ya minin’?”

Just one more push, one last temptation. He relaxed his grin, feeling more in his element as he knew just the thing to hook her in.

“Oh, nowhere special… just around Argo, that sort of thing.”

There was a gasp on the other side, then what sounded like tinkering. The phone line went dead, much to Andrew’s confusion. His confusion only grew when there was a BRRRRR-KER-CHUNK noise, followed by a portal gushing steam out, and finally someone plopping out, coughing their lungs out and holding onto some gear-shaped watch and some worm. Andrew’s confusion faded, and he had to force his smile again as the steam cleared.

 

 

“Why wait ‘til the morrow when the great Sandia Clockwork III can be here today? Now, Andy, get ready to see some true gear-turnin’, steampunkin’ action!”