"Alright people, listen up!" Phanya said, acting as if she were addressing a crowd of twenty people and not just her two companions. They looked up and she clapped the bounty hunter on the shoulder, just hard enough to make him wince. "Our new buddy Salazar here has graciously offered to help us get to CyraCity, and his car has a whole bunch of gizmos that'll help us avoid any more, uh, bad weather."

  "That is, if your clown shoes didn't break them all," Salazar grumbled. His crossed arms and hunched posture showed just how badly he didn't want to be here, and Phanya enjoyed that. She still believed that this entire situation was entirely Salazar's fault, and she wasn't about to start trusting him. If anything, with her system powers Phanya could likely throw the bounty hunter further than she could trust him.

  "Whatever, Ricky can figure something out. You two start stripping the car for parts and —"

  "That isn't what I said!" Salazar snapped, and before Phanya could retort he barreled on, "We need to tow her! Look, the phase shift may have replaced my engine with fucking rubber ducks, but all of my computer equipment is still in the back. If we can run a power line from your truck, then we can just tow her and you won't have to do anything else to Isabel." Phanya cocked an eyebrow down at him and Salazar huffed back into his defensive grumbling. "That's her name. 'Cuz she's shaped like a bell..."

  "Really? Because to me, she's shaped like a hot dog with a big ol' bite taken out!" Phanya smiled because she remembered to use the insult, but Tapper made a static noise like clearing a throat of gravel and she looked down at him. He had noticed something that Phanya missed, and with the silent urging of his eyebrows Phanya realized that Salazar looked hurt. Actually hurt, more than when she threatened to physically beat him. All because she insulted his wreck of a car?

  Phanya eased up, but only slightly. "I'm sure she's a very nice bell. But Sal has a point, if we take the whole car we can use the whole car. Including that comfy bed! We'll share everything."

  "I hate you."

  "Right back at you, buddy."

  The first and most important step, in Ricky's mind, was to fix their exosuit. Entirely because he might need to manually shift the vehicles, and not at all because he felt naked without its protection. The suit's repair kit was too small to hold replacement parts for all the damaged components in the chest plate, but it did contain a small plastic syringe labeled 'Quicksilver.' At Ricky's touch, it lit up with the green wireframe of identification.

  Quicksilver: Borrowing the nickname of mercury due to its similar appearance, quicksilver is actually a small colony of nanobots. Although they are incapable of reproducing and severely limited in scope for safety reasons (see also: Gray Goo), quicksilver is invaluable as a tool for repairs because it can bridge the lost connections in broken electronics. It is the mortar for silicate chips, crystal fiber cables, and metal paneling alike in emergencies.

  Ricky paused. He had looked up quicksilver in Tapper's history book several days ago; but instead of just remembering that like normal, the system now identified it as a blacksmithing tool. Maybe because it mentioned repairing metal? And the system was using the article he had read as its description, quoting it word for word. He could even somehow feel the underlined link for the Gray Goo article, though Ricky couldn't figure out how to mentally "select" the link. Or the system had no concept of links and wasn't interpreting the words it now fed back to him?

  Mulling over the possibilities helped keep Ricky's hands steady as they worked. It also helped him ignore the bounty hunter's sudden outburst, something about desecrating demons, but if it was actually important then Phanya will tell him later. Right now they only had a few milliliters to work with and couldn't afford to waste a drop, so Ricky stopped trying to wrangle his attention and he sank deeply into what mattered right here and now.

  The quicksilver was especially fascinating. At first it looked like a bead of regular melted solder hanging off the syringe, but tiny golden lights started to sparkle once Ricky filled it into a cracked microchip. Nanobots worked quickly to carve new pathways across its silvery surface, guided by ultrafine crystalline fibers that detached and moved themselves from deeper within the structure.

  Ricky marveled at how the process knew exactly what to repair without any input from the suit's broken computer. Maybe the fibers were made of nanobots as well? He had watched Tapper manipulate those same fibers before and pestered the robot for details on how they worked, to no avail. Eventually Tapper ended with an unsatisfying counterquestion on how exactly the human's own nerve endings worked — Tapper didn't know how, he just knew that they worked.

  So Ricky just worked through the damage, on to the next and on to the next, soaking in the expensive science each time. The exosuit powered on with barely a dab of quicksilver left to spare in the syringe, and Ricky hadn't even started on the actual armor. Once they were moving, the top priority had to be repairing the suit's armor or the next break might doom him. Ricky let out a long sigh of relief, which turned into a coughing fit when he looked up and saw everyone silently staring at him.

  Tapper recognized the signs of embarrassment and stepped forward to reassure Ricky that they simply didn't want to interrupt his focus. They just needed the exosuit for the next step and Ricky helped push the two cars into position, but the instant they were aligned Ricky extracted himself for another secretive project.

  "Ricky dude, we do not have time!" Phanya said, a whine of frustration undercutting her attempts to organize everyone. "Not all of us have super special heat resistance, we're baking out here!"

  "I know, I know, just give me a minute," Ricky answered with a dismissive wave over his shoulder. He knew it was a gamble to surprise everyone with his new magic ability, but he couldn't risk explaining the fine details with the bounty hunter within earshot. And that was assuming he could spare the time, but they'll understand once they see what he can do. All he needed was to finish one little trinket...

  Salazar's head suddenly snapped up and his neck frill twitched nervously. "Did anyone else feel that? That tremor?"

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  "Ugh, please tell me that the phase shift doesn't have some aftershocks saved up for us," Phanya groaned.

  "Not unless the Phase is now displaying an uncharacteristic amount of synchronization," Tapper answered.

  Phanya turned to ask what he meant, but the question lost its importance when she saw him lying flat on the tarmac with his arms and legs spread wide. "Why, Tapper? Just... why?" was all that she could manage. Traumatic memories of trying to babysit a dozen of Fableton's youngest, with their random leaps of childhood logic, started to flash through Phanya's mind.

  Tapper's head pivoted unnaturally to look her in the eye and his eyebrows twisted in apology. "Oh, I am maximizing the surface area of my tactile feedback sensors. Mister Salazar is correct that there is a slight tremor in the ground approximately once every second, but it is very faint."

  Instead of thanking Tapper for the helpful confirmation, Salazar further paled and suddenly darted away to climb up a garbage mound. Phanya saw this as an ill-timed escape attempt and gave chase, only to find the bounty hunter frozen at the peak. He was staring at a column of smoke, so far in the distance that Phanya couldn't make out its origin beyond a wide disc in the mirage horizon.

  Salazar recognized it instantly. He muttered, "We gotta move," before he turned to climb down the mound, bumping Tapper out of the way just as he caught up.

  Tapper, standing unprepared and unthreatened, was knocked off balance and tumbled back down to the pavement. By the time he stood and straightened out his misaligned joints Salazar was desperately digging through the trash, so Tapper approached and offered his hand. "Mister Salazar, what is the emergency? We cannot help if we do not know."

  Salazar paused for a brief second, regarding his companions before he scoffed and resumed digging. "It's the scavvers, they found us quicker than I thought. We need to lock down everything we can as fast as we can, and tie the cars together so they look like one, or else we'll lose her... fucking pavement pirates..." Salazar fell to mumbling and Tapper fell in step beside him, helping to pull out any lengths of rope or wire they found.

  The end result was an ugly assortment of knots and hooks that only technically joined the vehicles together. There was no chance of it holding under any real strain, but Salazar said they didn't need to actually tow his car right now. It just needed to look the part, and Salazar visibly relaxed when his pillbug powered up. Then he instructed Phanya to lock up anything that they didn't want to trade or couldn't risk losing, while he gave Tapper a disapproving once-over.

  "I don't think we can fit you into one of my locked cabinets," he finally said.

  "Nor would I accept confinement, especially when it feels like we are about to have another adventure!" Tapper responded, his jubilant tone overshadowing the direness in Salazar's.

  Phanya walked by with her arms loaded down by provisions and casually added, "Sometimes you survive the adventure by hiding, Taps."

  "Quiet!" Salazar snapped. "The point is, the robot needs a disguise because the custom faceplate is an obvious mark. Doesn't the other one have a welder? Hey you, uh, human boy!"

  "I said, just give me a minute!" Ricky shouted back, not looking up from his work.

  Tapper read Salazar's reaction to the retort, gripping at the air in Ricky's direction and huffing through clenched teeth. Clear signs of aggression. Tapper stepped in front of Salazar to divert their attention and pointed to his own face, saying, "Actually Mister Salazar, this is already one-third of my disguise!"

  To demonstrate, Tapper reached up and unclasped Drillbert's hollowed-out cranial unit from his own head. The mining robot was one of the first entities Tapper had "killed," and even though he had acted in self-defense against a machine without sapience it still felt grotesque to wear its skull as a mask.

  Tapper kept his voice pleasant and mild as he handed over the mask and continued, "See? No welding required. I removed the other two-thirds of my disguise when we crashed so I can —"

  Tapper's voice cut off when Salazar suddenly threw Tapper's mask to the ground and started stomping on it with all his might. The mercenary's might didn't amount to much against the metal shell, but once it finally crumpled under his heel Salazar picked it up and tossed the mask over the crest of a garbage mound.

  In the silence that followed Salazar's breath heaved from the effort, and Phanya leaned out of the vehicle to cock an eyebrow at him. "Feel better now?" Salazar just flashed her a rude gesture in response and brought up a hologram of Tapper's wanted notice. It floated above his outstretched palm, and Salazar zoomed in on Tapper's face while he glared at her. Phanya shrugged and said, "Yeah we know, that's why he put it on in the first place."

  "And how the hell was I supposed to know that wasn't actually his face!?" Salazar shot back.

  "Well I, for one, am overjoyed to learn that the initial disguise was such a success!" Tapper said, cutting off the argument before it could form again. The lack of cohesion between the group and Salazar shocked Tapper, especially compared to how well they worked with his friend Steffo. He would have to take special care that a proper friendship could form here, as well.

  The arguing did die out, but only because the persistent rumbling in the background came to the foreground. It grew in volume and clarity, splitting into the sounds of several small engines and one very large engine, and renewed panic gripped at Salazar. He shoveled everything he could into the vehicles, threw a tarp over the shoddy tow cables, and started pacing in front of Phanya and Tapper.

  "Okay, listen quick. The scavvers — no damnit they're pioneers, call them pioneers — have rules against violence in their market, but it's important you carry weapons out in the open or they'll think you're weak. They use a barter system, so we'll be trading with them, but never suggest paying them in chits. Just let me do the talking!" Salazar's voice at the end faded to the rumbling, but by then no one was paying attention.

  Even Ricky was forced out of his own mind, looking around as a giant shadow fell over the clearing. They all stared in awe at the massive mechanical platform now looming over them, though from their vantage they could only see the platform's underside. Dozens of shipping containers dangled from underneath, some of them lowering on pulleys to accept fresh salvage. People in orange vests rode the containers, swinging hard hats and whooping in excitement.

  The platform itself was roughly circular with a diameter of around 100 – 150 meters across, supported on eight multi-jointed metal legs that bowed outward under the weight. Two oversized shovels unfolded from the front of the platform and reached downward, indiscriminately scooping up garbage mounds and shoveling everything into a 'mouth' opening centered between the arms.

  Several vehicles were the last to arrive, most of them construction dump trucks modified to dump people clad in more high visibility orange safety vests. The scavvers wasted no time looting the area, encircling the jitney but holding off. Salazar held them at bay, his arms spread wide to show a large holographic sign of balancing scales over his head. The rest of the party scarcely noticed the scavvers, everyone still too transfixed by the platform and its lively ecology.

  "What a feat of engineering!" Ricky breathed.

  "It's like a giant... crab?" Phanya ventured.

  "I hope that it is a giant friendly crab," Tapper wondered.

  "It isn't friendly," Salazar sighed. "It's the Bazaar."