Chapter 18
Humming a tune known only to him, Ren prepared for his day. He observed his foot as he moved it through simple motions to ensure all was attached as it should be before collecting the pile of sketches he had completed. After quickly flipping through the stack, he removed two before putting the rest into an old messenger bag bearing the logo of the now defunct zeppelin company. One of the two sketches was one he had drawn especially for Viktor, while the other was one he had grown rather fond of.
It was a drawing of Mary and Percy engaged in another scene of the domestic life Ren had envisioned for them. Dressed like members of Zaun's upper class, the two automatons danced together in bliss across the page. Ren placed this drawing with the others of their imagined life he had drawn, right next to one that depicted Mary bust at work at a writer's desk.
A sigh came from Ren as he looked over these sketches and he knew that he needed today to keep his sanity. Without further delay he departed. As far as he knew, today was the best time to attempt his plan of sneaking out. Last night, Viktor had informed him that he was not to be disturbed at all while he worked. And so, Ren crept carefully past the door to Viktor's private workroom, stopping only to slide the picture for him under the door.
Ren's pulse quickened as he wrapped his robotic foot in scrap cloth to disguise it. Finally, he was going to venture out into the city after almost a month of voluntary captivity. He didn't even pause when his hand wrapped around the handle of the factory's door before pushing it open and stepping out into the open.
The abandoned factory was situated on an over cropping over the gorge's widest point so that the completed zeppelins would have been able to soar away without risk of scrapping the rocky walls. From up here, Ren could see the faint glitter of Zaun's lamps both above and below him, piercing through the Grey. The sight of this pushed any remaining apprehension from his body as he sped off towards the hidden elevator Viktor had used to bring him here and that would now carry him to Zaun proper.
Ren loved his city. The rumble of machines, the flow of chemicals through the great pipes, and the wheezing of escaping steam made Zaun feel like a great gruff living creature. And her people were just as gruff and alive.
Ren watched them bustle below him as he crossed a chasm on a large pipe. The rich color of the dark fabrics stood out boldly against their skin, which was paler than most due to lack of sunlight. The glint of metal shone on every citizen. It could have been from something as simple as a pocket watch or as complex as a mechanical limb, but everyone had something. The mechanical limb he did see, Ren noted, was much bulkier and more unwieldy than his. He watched this man lurch about with an uneven gait until his eyes came to rest on a service ladder. He hurried to it and eagerly slid down to join the others at street level. As soon as he did, he suddenly felt as though no time had passed since that awful day. Though it was true that Zaun is a city that is always changing, the overall disposition of the place remained the same; her people were pushy, her streets busy, and her air reeking of oil. It was the homecoming Ren had hoped for.
He took his time wandering the streets, admiring the buildings. Wrought iron shaped stood out menacingly against the soot stained sides of buildings, while the graceful brass gilding made them look like something to be protected. The glowing glass of lamps illuminated the contours of the multitude of pipes that crisscrossed the city, holding it in a tight embrace.
Enjoying himself so much, he decided to even make a stop at one of Zaun's few parks, which was located inside a massive cultivair, a dome of glass in which plants and trees could grow protected from the Grey and give off clean air. Ren had sat down on a bench and was relaxing, listening to bird songs play from concealed sonophones, when the scent hit his nose. It was fatty, oily, damp, meaty, and wonderful all at the same time. His mouth watered as he recalled what it was.
"Street food," his watery mouth moaned.
Nearby a portly man with a reddish grin and a grease stained apron stood by a cart and handed out sausages in buns overflowing with grilled peppers. Ren's stomach growled, but he had no money to alleviate its distress. Instead he filled his belly with determination to finish what he had originally set out to do, find a market.
Unlike the Bridgewaltz, the largest market in Zaun, Ren was looking for a more niche market. This market lacked the warm glow of chem-lamps, the security of guards, or the visiting Pilties. It catered to a lower class than the ladies in their finery, wandering the upper levels and buying the latest fashions from Demacia, and instead looked to draw in those interested in robotics.
Ren climbed over the rubble of a building that had fallen from above long ago and beheld the little market. The remaining green glass of the ruin's shattered cultivair cast a pale light over the little market nestled within its broken body. Here and there, scrap was traded and appraised. Another stall sold bootlegged copies of Piltover texts, while the one next to it bought and sold used mechanical limbs. A shiver ran down Ren's spine as the stall's owner, a goon of man who had lost an ear, but won, in a fight against a chem baron's thug, peered down his crooked nose at him. He wondered not if, but how many of the wares at his stall had been unwilling removed from their previous owners. Ren quickened his pace and moved towards a corner of the market where he began to unpack his wares.
He splayed out his drawings around him and waited for someone to take interest. His wait was not long, for his artwork was unique and appealed to those of a special disposition that could frequently be found in places like this. It appealed to people who were drawn to the idea of technosexuality. All manner of Ren's artwork sold, from elegant portraits of golems with pretty sandals laced about their feet, to deeply explicit images that Ren felt obliged to place out facedown so that no passing innocent would have their face flush red from discomfort. By far though, his pinups were his most popular drawings and it was less than two hours before he sold them all. As the last one passed from his hands, Ren wondered if Viktor knew of privileged to get one of these sought after illustrations for free.
Satisfied with his profits, Ren began to pack up what few illustrations remained, but he was not so engaged that he didn't miss the two sets of eyes watching him intently from the shadows.
"I can see you there," he called out to those in the shadows, "you don't need to be afraind. Come out."
With nervous steps, two young children approached Ren.
"Is that really you," a young boy with blonde hair that curled as though it was steam escaping from an engine, asked.
He went to approach Ren but his companion held him back. The dark freckles that specked her cheeks were barely visible against her already dark skin.
"We don't know for sure," she warned, "They said Ren fell. What if he's an imposter?"
"Firstly," Ren cut in, "just because I fell, doesn't mean I'm dead. Secondly, I'm flattered at the thought, but why would anyone want to impersonate me? And thirdly," he rolled up his sleeve as he said this last part, "who else would have a tattoo as cool as this and know that I called you Curly and Freckles?"
The two kids looked at each other in disbelief for a heartbeat before running up to their lost friend. Ren caught them with his open arms and hugged them closely.
"We thought you had died," Curly whimpered into Ren's shoulder.
"It'll take more than some machinery and a little stumble to kill me," Ren reassured them.
"But how," Freckles asked, "Ekko went looking for you. He only found your toe."
"Well" Ren said as he gave a quick, cautionary glance over his shoulder to ensure that the limb stealing goon was occupied, "I had a stroke of luck, and got a new one."
He rolled up his pants a few inches to reveal the shimmering metal underneath.
Their faces shifted to ones of wonder and Ren had to quickly hush them to keep from drawing too much attention.
"But where," they whispered in unison.
"A doctor found me," Ren answered, "he's been helping me out."
"A doctor," Freckles asked.
"Yeah," Ren paused for a moment to think, "the Doc's a student at some fancy robot doctory school. He knows the people doctor stuff, but needed practice with machine parts. He gave me a spare leg and practices on it, and I get better. It's a win-win.
"But will you get to come home soon," Curly asked with pleading eyes, "we've missed you."
"I don't know," Ren answered truthfully.
It surprised him to realize that he hadn't given it much thought before, but now that he did think about it, he wondered how long the relationship between himself and Viktor was going to last.
"Maybe till the end of the semester," he continued, "I miss you guys too. You know what, since I've been feeling better, I'll try to get out more to see you guys more often. How's that sound?"
Ren could tell that they were still a little disappointed by his response, but they smiled and nodded anyways. He returned their smiles tenfold until his growling stomach cut in.
"I've got another idea," Ren spoke as he began to collect his belongings, "what good is all this money if I don't spend it? What do you say that we all get sausages and peppers, my treat, but only if you make sure nobody put me on the memorial wall? I don't want people mourning for me because I ain't dead."
The kids nodded immediately. Ren gave them a quick smile and pat on the head.
"I knew you'd be crystal about the whole thing."
The three set off back up through the dark paths and hidden ladders towards the upper levels of the city. If Ren was going to treat them, he was going to treat them to the best he could find. They stopped at an overlook near the Bridgewaltz, and while Ren went off to buy the food, the two kids found a place to sit where they could look out at the sprawling city below them. Ren returned triumphantly, carrying three sausages with him. With rabid eagerness, the three unwrapped their steaming subs. The heavenly, meaty aroma hung about them as the red and green peppers spilled over the sides of the buns and the sausage shone like a mottled treasure.
As they ate, the kids swapped stories about the latest news, which chem barons were acting up, interesting salvage they had found, and what trials they were trying to compete, while Ren told them more about how he survived his fall into the machines. He carefully avoided mentioning Viktor by name, and simply kept referring to him as "the Doc." When they weren't talking, they simply sat and enjoyed the pleasures Zaun had to offer; her views, her food, and her company.
At length, an old bell rang out from a bronze capped tower which had long tarnished green from age. Ren got to his feet and stretched.
"I've got to head out," he admitted glumly, "but we'll see each other soon."
"You promise," Curly asked in a pitiful tone of voice.
"Swear it on the Sump," added Freckles.
"I swear on all the filth of the Sump. Now, off you two go and be careful. Don't put yourselves in any unnecessary danger unless you absolutely must prove your mettle to someone, and even then don't risk your lives while doing it."
The two kids sped off into the crowd, turning to smile and wave before vanishing into Zaun's chaos. Ren let out a small sigh after they left before setting off on his own way home. He made one final stop on his outing to collect some metal paints of bright, fiery hues. With his prizes in his sack, he hopped aboard a cable trolley that carried him over the gorge and back to the side of the great chasm where Viktor's hidden elevator awaited him.
