Fine. He would be standing there for hours while she went about the tedious work of getting this machine working properly again. Polder would not be enjoying himself, and he would get a ringside seat to see how well Mari knew her job. Yes. That was fine with her.
She opened her tool kit, pulling out the necessary equipment, then went to the Model Six’s main control panel and begin entering some test requests. Instead of issuing the proper response on a punched stream of paper, the Model Six did an advanced-mechanical version of gagging.
Mari smiled, the forebodings of the morning lost in the joy of doing something she could handle very well. Her first job would be easier than many of the tests she had passed to earn her Master Mechanic rating. She could fix this. Uncertainties disappearing like dissipating steam, Mari got other material to print out on the paper stream, examining the thinking ciphers for errors. They weren’t hard to spot, though surprising in a Model Six whose design had been around for so long. Getting happily into her work, Mari painstakingly put together a cipher fix, loaded it into the calculating and analysis device and then repeated her tests.
Then she frowned. The Model Six gagged again, but in a different way. That shouldn’t happen. She knew the Model Six cipher very well, and her fix should not have caused that. Mari developed a new fix, loading it in, ran the tests again…and found that some of the original problems had reappeared.
Mari rubbed her chin, studying the large, hand-crafted metal boxes that sat before her. There was one possible explanation for what was happening. It was an explanation that wasn’t supposed to be possible, involving something that wasn’t supposed to exist, but she had been taught about it anyway at Professor S’san’s insistence. Taking a deep breath, Mari started putting together a new set of tests. Lost in the challenge of her work, Mari was oblivious by now to the passage of time and the silent form of City Manager Polder standing against the wall. Mari didn’t even notice when electric lights were switched on to brighten a room going dim as the sun sank low in the sky.
The tests ran. Mari stared at the long, long strip printing out. There it is. No doubt. This isn’t an error in cipher code. It’s a contagion. Someone infected this Model Six with another cipher designed to keep it from working right. No wonder Master Mechanic Xian couldn’t fix this. The fact that such contagions could be created was so secret that few Mechanics knew about it, and even fewer had any training in dealing with them. Mari was one of that last tiny group, which explained exactly why she had been needed here.
If someone knew or suspected this was the problem, why didn’t they tell me? And who created this? I don’t recognize the hand that crafted this contagion, and I know just about everyone who can build ciphers like this. And creating a contagion is strictly banned. Anyone caught creating one would lose their heads. Literally.
Fixing this is half the problem. The other half is figuring out who did it. Mari looked over at the City Manager. “The contract I have stated that you had no idea of the origin of the problem with this machine. Have you learned anything since then?”
Polder shook his head very deliberately. “No. Nothing. Are you saying you cannot fix it?”
He had to be lying. All of the security, all of the guards, all of the Mechanic weapons argued that Ringhmon considered itself surrounded by enemies. Why wouldn’t Ringhmon suspect those enemies? And if the contagion had been installed for blackmail, the city would have surely received a demand for payment in exchange for a fix. Instead, Ringhmon had come to the Mechanics Guild and claimed ignorance. “I can fix it. I’ll have to wipe the existing thinking cipher and reload it, but your information and calculations should be fine since they’re stored outside the analysis components.” She pointed at the spools of wire on which the machine kept the results of its work.
“You are certain we will lose nothing?” Polder demanded.
Mari shook her head, wondering why that particular concern had finally rattled Polder’s composure. “You’ll lose nothing.”
An extra Model Six, and the effective ruler of this city worried about what was stored on it. Mari tried to keep a calm appearance as she resolved to find out more about that before she left here.
By the time Mari finished purging all trace of the contagion and reloading the thinking cipher, the sky outside the windows set high up on one wall was completely dark. Suppressing a yawn, Mari ran her tests again and was rewarded with perfect results. It felt very good, bringing a warm sense of accomplishment. Who else could’ve fixed this? Maybe a total of two other Mechanics, one of whom rarely leaves Alfarin and the other rarely leaves Palandur. Hooray for me. First contract successfully completed. Good job, Master Mechanic Mari, and to blazes with Senior Mechanic Stimon’s black mark. I might as well praise myself, since I’m not sure anyone else will.
Now for the rest of the job. She called up another readout, which should give line headers for the information stored on the Model Six. Neither Polder nor any other common would be able to know that was what she was looking at, so there shouldn’t be any risk in it. But Mari still had to work to keep from showing any nervousness as she called up that data.
The coded printout scrolled past as she scanned it. Not the usual listing of financial information, payrolls, inventories and such. No. Mari had to take a second look to be sure what it was. Measurements. Length, width, thickness. Shapes. Materials. Specifications.
In a crude way, it was a description of a disassembled Mechanic device.
A repeating rifle.
This could only have come from someone trying to reverse-engineer a Mechanic rifle, taking it apart piece by piece to discover how to build a copy. Who would do such a thing? And why? Only Mechanics can do that kind of work. The Guild strictly prohibits commons from trying to learn any Mechanic secrets, and regularly tells the commons about the severe penalties for anyone caught trying. Why hasn’t Master Mechanic Xian already spotted what these commons are doing? He can't be that incompetent! What the blazes is going on in this city?
A contagion of unknown origin. Hostile, arrogant commons. Somebody playing around with Mechanic secrets. Mari felt like she had when the bandits attacked the caravan. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ve got to get out of here. “That’s it,” she stated in what she hoped was a calm voice. “It’s done.”
Polder’s face lit with eagerness. “The Model Six works as it should again?”
“Exactly as it should.” Mari slowly stretched, feeling the strain of the day’s work and tense with what she had learned. Take it easy. You’re tired, ready to leave, work’s done. Be like that Mage. Don’t show anything else.
“Excellent.” Polder gave her a look of polite interest, waving his guards back into the room. “What was the nature of the problem?”
I have a nasty suspicion that you already know, and if you don’t know, I’m not telling you. “The exact cause is a Guild matter, not to be discussed with outsiders.”
Instead of bridling at her words, or even showing the usual resentment commons couldn’t hide when Mechanics declined to share their secrets, Polder nodded in a humble way that seemed very out of character. “Naturally. But can you tell me how to ensure the problem is not repeated? Is it anything we’re doing on the Model Six?”
Mari shook her head. “No.”
Polder looked regretful. “You saw nothing out of the ordinary? Are you asking me to believe that you do not understand the problem you claim to have fixed?”