The Travelling Tea house - Chapter 1 - Steam and Ash

So, here is the first chapter of the travelling teahouse. Slightly different than I originally imagined. A couple of my discord frens gave me some ideas, and I went with them. Although I like the idea, I'm not 100% sold on it yet. May do Convergent realities instead, but I have a couple chapters of that already, so I can give it some time before making a final choice. It won't all be steampunk, but that's where it starts. Please let me know what you think.

I groaned as I looked at the clock tower in the middle of Artifice square. I’d thought I’d left my house at a reasonable time, but that was before the enforcers had locked down multiple districts due to unrest, and forced me to take a massive two hour detour.

I pulled the ad out of my coat and looked at it again. ‘Mechanic wanted: Must be good with people and not afraid of danger. Must be willing to travel. Pay will be $45 a week, room and board included. Apply at 1543 Arbiter's Street before 5pm on the ninth.’ Forty five dollars a week wasn’t a lot, but it was fair with room and board, and right now I was desperate. 

Unfortunately it was approaching four right now, which meant that to make it to Arbiter’s street in time I would have to cut through an ash district. I pulled my scarf out of my bag and tied it as tightly as possible, before hefting my bag and stepping inside.

The static wall snapped and crackled as I passed through. It seemed like the city had cleaned the streets lately, because there was only several inches of ash on the streets, so I wouldn’t have to struggle too much to make it through. I pulled my coat tighter around me, and my hat down lower, to keep as much of the floating ash off me as possible and began trudging.

Despite the fact that it looked like it was snowing, the entire district was sweltering. The hundreds of forges and furnaces in this area kept even the streets toasty. Despite that, I didn’t dare take off my hat or coat. One of the major byproducts from these furnaces was ash. So much ash that it constantly floated down on the roads and buildings like snow. I didn’t know how many workers died of ash lung every day, but it was a lot, and the ash could stain your skin if left for too long.

I had originally planned to take a longer route, and avoid this area entirely, but I had to make up time.

It took me about twenty minutes to struggle down the road, stepping around the donkey carts full of coal, and steam cars carrying goods, until I finally struggled out of the static gate on the far side. The residue which had been accumulating on me throughout my trudging was stripped away, and contained by the electrical wall. Keeping the ash from overrunning the rest of the city.

I shook out my hat, and scarf, before putting them away in my bag and running towards my destination. Arbiter’s street was right on the edge of the city, it wasn’t the best neighbourhood, but it wasn’t the worst either. It typically catered to artisans, and engineers, rather than the gentry, or working class.

Many people gave me suspicious looks as I passed, but I ignored them and concentrated on finding my destination.

Most of the buildings here were a more classical design, lots of stonework and decorative metalwork, and less copper and exposed wire. It was pretty, and I would have loved to have had the time to look around, but I was on a deadline.

When I finally found number 1543 I had to stop, and stare for a moment. It was an enormous two story manor that towered over the surrounding buildings. Although it was in the more classical style, it also had many modern improvements that didn’t fit the area. It was built on the side of a hill, so it was built on a metal platform with dozens of intricate iron beams with bronze accents keeping it anchored in place. The platform was ringed by an ornate wrought iron fence and the building had dozens of bronze chimneys sticking out of the top, like some bizarre pipe organ. I couldn’t figure out if I considered it ugly, or beautiful.

There was a old wooden sign hanging from the stairs which read ‘Agatha’s Tea and Guesthouse’

I pulled out the ad to double check the address. This was the place, but what did a teahouse need a mechanic for?

I tried my best to wipe off my jacket, and make myself look halfway presentable, before giving up and just shoving the ratty thing into my bag. I had my nicest shirt and vest on underneath, so that would have to do. I climbed the metal stairs, stepped up to the door, and pressed the bell. 

After a minute or so the door was pulled open by an extremely pale woman with black hair, wearing a maid uniform. Despite being very petite, and beautiful, something about her seemed off. “Can I help you?” she asked flatly.

“I’m here about the ad you placed in the paper, looking for a mechanic,” I said as bravely as I could.

“You cut it very close, the ad said before five and it’s,” she pulled a pocket watch out and checked it, “four forty three.”

“Does that mean I’m too late?” I asked.

The woman slowly placed the watch back in her pocket, then looked at me impassionately. “No, the madam will want to meet you, follow me.”

As soon as I stepped inside and looked around I felt like I was underdressed. The interior was all done in high end woods, and even though I wasn’t cultured, I could tell that most of the displays in the lobby contained antiques or high end pieces of art. The maid escorted me up one of the twin staircases, and stepped up to the door right at the middle of the balcony, knocking only once before stepping away.

There was a moment of silence, then the doors slowly pulled open. The room beyond was amazing. It was obviously lived in, filled with comfortable furniture and well used bookshelves, but there were also inventions and technology that I’d never seen before. A series of vacuum tubes which contained arcing electricity filled the opposite wall, a massive copper kettle which was suspended on tracks so it could go anywhere in the room, pistons on the door so they could be opened and closed remotely, and electrical lighting. It was a marvel.

In the middle of the room, lounging in one of the well worn chairs was an older woman, with greying brown hair and spectacles, who was reading a book in a comfortable chair. 

“Yes Ivy? Is there an issue?”

The maid, Ivy apparently, shook her head. “No madam, we just had a last minute applicant for the job.”

The older woman raised an eyebrow. “Last minute indeed,” she said, looking me over. I could feel her judging me. “Very well, we have a few minutes, I’ll make this quick. Come in Ms…”

“Amila, Amila Gladstone Ma’am,” I choked out as the maid pushed me into the room and closed the door behind me.

“And I am Agatha Winthorpe, pleasure to meet you,” the older woman replied. “Please sit.”

I carefully crossed the room, doing my best to avoid stepping on the various books, papers and other minutia scattered around the room until I reached the chair next to Agatha. The woman slowly removed her glasses, and used them to bookmark her book before putting it to the side. “Now tell me dear, why are you here?”

“Because… I really need a job, and your ad said you were looking for a mechanic,” I replied honestly. “I have to admit, this place isn’t what I expected when I saw your ad.”

Agatha smiled, “Yes, well, this old place needs plenty of maintenance,” she picked up a remote off the table next to her and the kettle came shooting across the room. As soon as it settled a porcelain cup appeared under the spigot, and tea started to pour out. The process ended before the cup overflowed, and two small sugarcubes slid down a chute into the cup. That’s when Agatha took the cup. “Tea?”

“No thanks,” I replied nervously. 

She took a small sip of tea, before speaking again. “How long have you worked as a mechanic?”

“Five years ma’am, at the Hellbird assembly plant. That is, before I got injured,” I answered.

“Probably due to the automated assembly arms, yes?” Agatha asked unphased. I looked at her in surprise, the assembly process at Hellbird was supposed to be a secret, which was one of the reasons I had such problems finding work.

“Yes Ma’am, that’s correct,” I answered nervously.

“I’m surprised you made it that long,” Agatha grumbled under her breath, but it was still loud enough for me to hear. She took another sip of tea, “And what do you think about Ivy?”

“Ivy? You mean the maid that escorted me up here?” I asked, confused. “She was… nice?”

Agatha’s eyes narrowed. “That’s it?” she prompted, as she set down her tea. 

I paused, unsure what I should tell her, after a moment I decided to be honest with her. “Actually, I felt like something was off about her. She was polite, and had excellent manners, but something about her unnerved me.”

“Excellent!” Agatha declared, shooting to her feet.

“Excellent?” I repeated, completely confused. 

“Very few people are as perceptive as you are, I saw how you looked at Ivy up front,” she walked over to a desk in the corner and started picking through the papers. “Since you already have a bag, I assume you’re ready to start immediately, correct? You don’t mind travelling do you?”

I stared at the old woman, my brain struggling to catch up to the direction the conversation had taken. “I can start whenever you need me to, and I don’t mind moving for work, but don’t you want to know more about my qualifications? And I thought room and board were part of the contract?” I asked.

“They are!” Agatha replied, waving her hand dismissively. “The fact that you survived five years at Hellbird tells me you’re not only skilled, but exceptionally careful. Most mechanics barely last a month before losing a finger, or worse.”

She came back to the sitting carrying a contract, which she set next to me, and a pen which she passed to me.

“I’m still not sure why you need a mechanic for,” I said blankly, looking at the paper.

“Well, then, you’ve arrived at just the right time to find out,” the grandfather clock on the wall chimed five, and as it did the entire building shook. Agatha didn’t seem the least bit surprised, in fact, she seemed to have expected it. “Come, and see,” she said as she headed over to a window.

I carefully put the contract and pen to the side, and hurried after her. When I was a few steps away from the window I noticed the horizon was moving. Unsure what was going on, I slowly slipped up to the window and looked out.

The massive beams, which I originally just stationary supports, were moving. Massive pistons moved the ‘legs’ carrying the entire house away from the city at a surprising speed.

I turned towards Agatha, eyes wide.

“Welcome Amila to my greatest invention,” she said with a smile. “The Traveling Tea House.