The journey into Baghdad passed by as uneventfully as Sinbad had expected. The biting heat of midday radiated across the deck as the Nomad came to port, while the sun reflected off the polished, pristine stucco and mosaics that decorated nearly every surface of the opulent capital. The entire city had been designed by the most masterful of architects, fit enough for the gods themselves, with luxury and finery dripping at every turn. But Sinbad knew that every moment he spent amongst its lying beauty was swathed with danger and unwelcome.
Sinbad had barely secured the ship into port, before a burly looking man with an angry grimace, followed by several obedient Without, began to board. "Which one of you sea scum is Captain Sinbad?" he sneered, as his beady eyes traversed the deck.
"That would be me, good sir," answered Sinbad caustically, knowing better than to start a fight with an angry Force. His head would be torn off and thrown away so far from his body that his crew would be unlikely to find it. Without had no rights here. He had no rights. So he stifled his urge to strangle the ugly brute.
Stomping over to leer at Sinbad, the hefty man spat at the Captain's feet before beginning on a tirade. "You Without are all so fucking stupid, you can't even keep track of what day it is. This is probably the most significant day in your pathetic life, and you dare to show up here, mere hours before the Prince's Trial with your cargo. How fucking quick do you expect our engineer to melt that diamond powder into glass… he's needed it for days now."
Sinbad swallowed thickly before answering carefully. "I was told that delivering my goods to the Capital by today would meet the overseer's requirements…"
"Well, I'm the overseer today, and it doesn't look like you've met my requirements now have you, you filthy sea mutt." He spat again.
It took all of Sinbad's strength not to draw his sword and attempt to take his head clean off. But he knew it would do no good, even if he somehow managed to succeed. Baghdad's renowned Sentinels, a special force of guards appointed from every family with power, would perform much worse than a simple beheading on him in turn. Burning to death while being simultaneously drowned, or perhaps being exploded to bits, were much more up their alley. It didn't matter to this brute that Sinbad had followed his orders to the letter. That the last overseer must have made a miscalculation. That he never delivered late cargo. His words and his reputation were more insignificant than dust. So he stayed silent.
Turning to the group of frightened Without, the Force yelled, "Get this cargo unloaded as soon as your worthless selves can carry it. All crates to the palace, except for the diamond powder… that's going to the arena. And you can help them carry it, Captain sluggish," he laughed viciously at Sinbad, as he shoved him gruffly towards the crates.
Great, just gods be damned fantastic. More time to be spent in Baghdad, as a sheep amongst wolves with fangs sharper than any sword. During all his time as a Captain, never had he been made to carry his cargo through the city streets. He knew this was about humiliation for him, as his crew watched on. But the danger of lingering in the Capital is what truly bothered him.
Just beyond the port lay an expansive market, unlike any he had seen on his numerous travels. Exotic flowers in all manner of colours decorated each stall, growing in complicated vines with no obvious beginning or end. Lush trees grew between the granite slabs of the market floor, a marriage between nature and man that was anything but natural. Flora's were undoubtedly to thank for such a display, their power being to manipulate plants and the earth. As if to punctuate this thought, he watched a nearby florist place his hand into a pot filled with nothing but dirt, and have coils of pearlescent white flowers as lovely as the moon wrap around his elbows.
Stalls with cakes dusted in gold were followed by a grocer selling exotic fruits that Sinbad had often been sent himself to procure. A golden fountain with water shooting in complicated patterns, splashed down to quench the thirst of wild animals collected from all ends of the earth. A pair of Nymphs, those who can control and manipulate water, made floating orbs of liquid to dance along with the fountain, entertaining the children sitting nearby. It would have been endearing, if not for the hateful eyes he caught from one of them as he passed.
The divide between those with and without was painfully easy to discern. The powerful dripped with gems and precious metals, draped in colourful, expensive cloths Sinbad recognized from his journeys abroad, a fortune upon every one of them. Confidence and entitlement swathed each of their leisurely steps, the world existing to meet their every whim. The Without by contrast, were few and fast, darting efficiently and apologetically between the stalls to perform their errands, or standing obediently and dejectedly near their powerful masters, ready at their beck and call. Their clothes were plain, and their postures slumped to reflect their opinion of themselves.
They soon came to a grand set of double doors stretching several stories high, gilded in fine gold. Two sentinels guarded the entrance to the arena, enough to strike fear into Sinbad's heart with just their presence. Their uniforms looked like flame, flickering between red and orange, to symbolize the Queen's own house and power. Only their glittering eyes could be seen behind imposing black masks, and each carried a saber that was made to kill. But it was their powers that were the most frightening thing about them; elite warriors from the different high houses, trained from childhood and sworn to serve the Queen and her family for their entire lives.
"Diamond powder for the engineer, finally arrived," the ugly Force spat, fixing Sinbad with yet another mean look. The Sentinels nodded their heads, while one made a quick wave of her hand to open the doors. A Telky, noted Sinbad, capable of moving objects with just her mind. He moved through them grudgingly, wondering how much longer it would be before he could return to his ship. This was the longest he had ever spent in Baghdad, and every step that he took made him feel more and more like a caged animal.
"Through here," the overseer directed, down a dark passageway, leading to the bowels of the arena. There was a small, wrought iron door left ajar, with light filtering through the other end. Not just light however, Sinbad soon realized. Flashes of light.
Sinbad pushed his way through to a room unlike any he had ever seen. It was filled with all manner of unnamable objects made of metals and other materials he didn't recognize. Complicated looking structures greeted him at every turn, filling him with both wonder and trepidation. He was particularly concerned with a metal box he noted, with sparks of what looked like lightening jumping out from it. Just who was this engineer and what exactly did he do?
"Welcome, and thank goodness you've arrived. Your timing is quite fortuitous, on a number of levels to be sure," said a genial man, as he gestured towards the crates of diamond powder. He wore large goggles upon his head, that did little to tame his thick, curly hair. His hands were slightly blackened, as was his humble tunic, and he wore a warm smile that was too kind to belong to someone with power.
Sinbad tried not to look at the strange man too awkwardly. Kindness in a place like this felt wrong, as if a lion were laying down with a gazelle. Despite his instincts telling him this man was not the enemy, he had no desire to dally. "Well, I'm glad I was able to get you what you needed. I'm sorry the timing couldn't have been a bit sooner, but there was a storm…"
"No trouble at all dear Captain," answered the engineer. "I only needed to complete a few more panes of diamond glass, which I can have melted and hardened within the next couple of hours most assuredly."
Of course, thought Sinbad sourly. Leave it to that bully of a Force to make it seem as though his shipment was egregiously late. "Well, I'm glad to hear it. If that's all then…"
"What's most fortuitous actually, is that you, a strong and capable looking man to be sure, are now here to assist me with the installation of one of my other shield components," interrupted the engineer, clearly quite excited about this prospect.
Sinbad tried not to look at him as though he had sprouted an additional head. "I'm sorry, good sir but…"
"Firouz. How rude of me to not introduce myself properly," he interjected, holding out his hand to shake with an affable smile.
"Firouz," Sinbad continued, grasping it gingerly. "Fine…"
"And you are…?"
Sinbad sighed deeply. "Sinbad. Captain Sinbad." Great, he really didn't want to get on a first name basis with this man, kind as he was. It was harder to say no to someone, the better you knew them. "My point is, that I'm not a worker in the Capital, I'm needed on my ship. I've delivered my cargo to you personally, and now, it's time for me to be on my way. I'm sure there's someone else here who's more qualified, who doesn't have a ship sitting in the harbor waiting for them."
It was Firouz's turn to look awkward. "Point of fact, I uh, actually don't have anyone else. Not anymore anyways."
Sinbad noted his discomfort, but continued on anyways. "Well, what happened to them? Did they fall ill, get diverted elsewhere…"
"No," said Firouz, wringing his dirty hands nervously. "He was electrocuted. He should be perfectly fine after the shock wears off of course, as it wasn't at full force after all, but he was in no condition to continue on assisting me today, as is understandable given the circumstances…"
"Electro-what?" Sinbad interrupted, trying to get his facts straight.
"Electrocuted. Zapped. With electricity. Essentially, it's like lightning, except within a defined space. Incredibly powerful energy that is created when a coil of wire is rotated at high speeds, within a magnetic field. I predict endless applications in the future for such an energy source, besides just using it to make an impressive force field for this afternoon's festivities of course."
Sinbad was more inclined to believe that dragons made good house pets. What anyone could ever think to use this dangerous sounding electricity for, he couldn't fathom. Leave it to those with power to try to harness even more power. Who could even imagine having the ability to use and control lightning?
"Well, your electricity certainly sounds impressive, and I hope you manage to get it all working before the ceremony, but like I said before, I have a ship to catch…"
"Quit with your excuses sea mutt. If the engineer wants you to stay, you're staying. Your ship can fucking wait. Nothing is more important than the ceremony…" spat the overseer.
"But there are other men here," Sinbad interjected. "Why not have one of them stay instead.."
"Because the engineer asked for you. And besides, anything that pisses you off just makes my day that much better," he grinned viciously.
Sinbad glared at the Force, holding his gaze so fiercely he was sure he would get a deadly punch. But thankfully for him, the big brute simply laughed, and ordered the other Without to vacate the premises along with him, not even sparing Sinbad a parting glance. So much for what Aiden advised about getting home as soon as possible, he thought with irritation. Instead of celebrating with his family back in Basra, he would be sticking around this accursed place dangerously close to the most significant event the city had seen in decades. He hoped the citizen's idea of celebrating didn't involve roasting unlucky Withouts. And furthermore, that he didn't get roasted by Firouz's electricity.
"I assure you, there really is nothing too perilous to worry about here, Captain Sinbad," Firouz assured amiably, trying wholeheartedly to diffuse the tension still vibrating within the room.
Sinbad sighed. He really shouldn't blame this strange man of science for being stuck here. The overseer had it in for him from the moment he pulled into port. The best thing he could do was to be useful for a few hours until his services were no longer required. And careful.
"Look on the bright side, my friend. At least you'll get a chance to view the Prince's Trial from the observation deck. They'll need us around to step in, in case something with the shield needs adjusting between rounds. It's a piece of history!"
What a fucking honour, thought Sinbad acerbically. He hated politics. He hated the royal family. And he could care less about who the crowned princess was going to marry. How was that for history?
"So, where do we start?" Sinbad answered thickly, trying to hide the plethora of emotions coursing through him at the moment.
"Right here, Captain! With my electric generator. My former partners and I already managed to build and install the steel scaffolding around the ceiling of the fighting pit, which was no easy feat I can assure you. And the diamond glass panes are mostly installed between the bars as well, with the exception of four of them, which we can finish up right as soon I test the forcefield strength."
An electrical forcefield surrounding a web of diamond glass, which is itself impenetrable… the royal family was taking no chances that any of their devoted subjects might catch a stray attack from the battles raging below, Sinbad grimaced.
"Firouz," he paused. "You don't have to call me Captain anymore, okay? Just Sinbad is fine."
Firouz offered him yet another bright and wholehearted smile. "Of course Captain… I mean, Sinbad. Just Sinbad." It was hard not to like the man. Perhaps under different circumstances, Sinbad mused, they could have been friends.
It was a short journey from Firouz's engineering room to the arena floor. Maneuvering the awkwardly shaped and heavy generator up the steps to the ceiling structure was another story, but the two men managed it with only a slight amount of cursing. Sinbad was sure to give Firouz a wide berth when he began to connect cables to the steel scaffolding and flip switches. His day had been difficult enough… he would not add getting "electrocuted" to the laundry list of faults.
Suddenly, Firouz's machine bloomed to life, sending a current of curling, sparking power thrusting through the scaffolding, lighting and reflecting in the diamond glass to create an otherworldly display. It was at once beautiful and terrifying, thought Sinbad, momentarily frozen in place by its wonder. Although he was afraid, he was also transfixed. The electricity seemed to reverberate within him, giving him an odd sensation, as though his skin was alight with its energy. Without realizing it, he began to move closer to the white hot sparks, wondering if he would feel this strange sensation even more…
"That's close enough Captain, I mean, Sinbad, sorry!" shouted Firouz, flustered by the danger his partner was unwittingly inviting. "You don't want to get electrocuted, remember? I can assure you, although the ceiling holds a certain appeal, touching it would result in serious injury and/or death. Most probably death."
Right thought Sinbad. What was he thinking? Of course it was dangerous. It looked dangerous, he should know it was dangerous from what Firouz had said earlier. Yet, he could not help but find it fascinating. It was like nothing he had ever seen or felt before. The power of lightning harnessed.
"This should be sufficient to block any stray power that may be emitted from the battleground, while still allowed the Royal Family and the Great Houses to observe everything that occurs from the comfort of the viewing area," beamed Firouz proudly.
Sinbad wondered how the other man could be so cheerful about helping his oppressors, but he kept his thoughts to himself. Perhaps he took so much joy in his science, and his special title of engineer, that it helped him to forgot who he really was to them. Who all Withouts were to them. Nothing.
"Now, all that's left to do is to melt the diamond powder you delivered into the remaining panes of glass, and install them before the ceremony in about four hours time. It should be no trouble at all. In fact, it's quite a fascinating process, melting diamond glass…."
But Sinbad was too busy worrying to hear exactly what was so fascinating about it. Worrying about his ship in the harbor and his brother waiting for him back in Basra. Worrying about being stuck in the Capital, surrounded by enemies at all turns. And worrying about the Prince's Trial, and what manner of danger awaited people like him, should something not go according to plan…