The Starlight Lancer

Chapter Ninety-Six: The Strato in Name

"Little is to be said for those who cannot control their stations. The Synatorium has as much use for a Chidron that cannot govern as the Allegiant Militarium has for a general that cannot lead, or the mercantile guilds have for a cargo ship that cannot fly. The Nova Rim is driven by results, and those that cannot get them are quickly identified and cast aside in any system that values efficiency."

—Velanus Xyonthran, famed Economist and founder of the Philosophy of Machinism

The city of Deonago was much bigger than Zaina imagined. It sat in a valley in the middle of a massive mountain range, and was thus surrounded on all sides by gently dwelling giant faces of stone. The height of these buildings didn't compare to those Zaina had seen on Otmonzas or Rishaval, but they were innumerable. Everywhere in the valley and spread out on the adjacent mountainous terrain were near-uniform structures packed in tightly.

With a great view from her vantage point, Zaina took in the whole city. Before her was a stairway made of solid stone, and at least twenty feet wide. It descended what looked like thousands of feet into the center of the city with buildings crammed on either side for most of the way. The stairway connected to a central hub—it appeared to be some sort of garden with a pond on a circular platform—along with four other sets of similar stairs, each leading up into the mountains. These four stairways separated Deonago into quadrants.

The city was alive with movement; at any given moment the entire city appeared to be burdened by a plague of small insects. What stuck out more to Zaina was how quiet it was. There was a low murmur, the ringing of enormous bells, and the sounds of busywork—hammers hitting forges, cargo transports dashing about overhead, and heavy machinery straining to lift long metal crates.

"Let's get those feet busy, kid," Xyrthe said. "You stop to ogle every new place and you'll waste your lancer years."

"Isn't it good to get the lay of the land?"

"You can do that while walking."

"Do you even know where we're going?"

"The Civic Center," Xyrthe replied, pointing down the stairs. "All the way at the end."

"There's got to be a faster way."

"We could run, but you'd probably eat shit."

Zaina raised a finger. "What about our rocket boots?"

Xyrthe scoffed. "You want to waste fuel because you're lazy?"

A loud voice came from behind. "Pardon!"

Zaina turned—there was a Fodian, gray-skinned and humanoid with a bulbous head and a bony, protruding forehead, riding the strangest vehicle Zaina had ever seen. It was like the bicycles she'd seen back home, but with square wheels; the Fodian was wearing professional attire, and the ride down the stairs was so bumpy he looked to be vibrating as he descended; the square wheels fit perfectly into the stairs, but it still seemed quite uncomfortable.

Zaina stepped aside, and the man shook his way past them. Xyrthe sighed.

"Say," Zaina said, "where do you think he found that?"

"No."

"It would be faster—"

"No. I mean it this time. Don't pull some bralshit like you did with the tubecar."

"Yeah, admittedly, that wasn't as fun as I thought it would be," Zaina replied.

"Exactly. So let's not repeat history here, shall we? All we have to do is walk in a straight line. You know what we don't have to do? Talk. Chit-chat. Sight-see."