22 Searing 123
Another day another piece of aven. Well not really. With total economic collapse in Zaichaer not even thieves would bother with the effort of getting an aven which may as well be worthless to them. You cannot eat them. You cannot drink them. And you could not use them to get either. While there are some pockets of the city which still used aven as a standard just to have some semblance of civility, Dakkur thought that if he really were to get some aven for himself, it would be more to accumulate a nest egg for when he bails on this city. What was it in the knowledge of the merchant circles? Buy low sell high? If he thought about it here in Zaichaer was probably buying aven at its lowest and should the city ever return to normalcy or as Dakkur intends to do, ditch out of the city to move to greener pastures, now that would be his chance to sell at a high price... of one to one. Surely he could have been doing so already as Zaichaer was never going to be more than a temporary arrangement but he had been distracted for so long while bartering and bargaining for whatever he wanted and needed had become the most simplest and efficient way to do things. Curse it all. He felt like some sort of a barbaric crude already but he would feel bad leaving his hostess in Zaichaer by herself the moment things got bad especially after the hospitality she had shown him.
Which is why even if it was a little bit, Dakkur did his best to try and improve the quality of life at the West End or at least her immediate vicinity. While in seasons past, in the earlier days of the cataclysm where the status quo had yet to be set and everyone else was looking out for number one, Dakkur of course had to be a lot more careful of what he made and who he offered his services to but now after he proved himself as somewhat capable and even more, stubborn? It was eventually established it would be better to leave him to his own devices or have him want to offer up his own expertise- in his devices actually. Though he could not be sure Dakkur was sure that there was... some? At least signs of the former government and those who would like to have that position to bring back a system to Zaichaer in place with them at the helm but none of them had ever bothered with him nor have they chosen to disprove whatever he had said.
Where in fact, Dakkur could have made devices which lasted long and did not need his intervention all along. That being said however would that have been a good idea? He was aware, with some whisperings in the wind, that at best some gadgeteers have been run out of town for some factions to maintain whatever advantage they believed they should have over the others and at worst... well Dakkur was not keen to meet his end in a shithole like Zaichaer. Which was why he had made it a point from the start to make a show to the others that the devices he made, with all the crappy materials and tools available to him to make them, made it impossible for them to last long and he was needed to be around to maintain them. Which ended up becoming his job in the city, at least to those in the know and some members of the public. And that was all he had to do everyday and even if he did not he still needed to keep up the performance. As his hostess taught him, most of the work was always in maintaining the illusion for all the observers.
One by one he went to the spots where the devices were planted. As always a shovel in hand to dig it out enough until it was unsecured enough to simply pull it out. Was he too rough. No doubt. But if the devices got ruined, it meant there was more work he could do in the city and more resources he could scam out of... whoever it was he had it made for. Still as a professional he should at least take care to ensure that the device would still work after he left. Integrity? Check. The last thing anyone wanted was leakages. The pump? Still in working order. A good old push and pull had Dakkur able to feel his hand being sucked in for his test. Again, all in order so far. Was all the other parts there. Check. Check. Check. Check again. No rusting either or someone might end up getting sick. Dakkur slid his fingers over each part. 'Could it use more oil?' he wondered. Well it was not like the oil could cost him much, as it was part of the cost to maintain so feeling that it might be a little dry he added a little bit in and spread it around all the parts. Now finally the most important thing. Important more to him than for the device to actually work. Had it been tampered with?
"Hmmmmm...."
At least had it been someone who actually knew what they were doing, like him, they would know better to leave any sign of it behind. As for someone untrained, they probably would have wrecked the device long ago like numbers two to four, six, nine ten, as well as thirteens to seventeens with the damage reported back to him many days earlier so he could promptly fix it before it inconvenienced anyone. With everything looking to be in good order, Dakkur planted the device back into the ground, buried it nearly, pumped some water out to get the flow going and got on his way to his next visit in the West End. What numbers were left? the twenties? As Dakkur mused on it,