Building Steam on a Grain Of Salt
Filed under:nanofiction,writing,Rob Andrews
He's the 10 thousand dollar man. A mix of flesh steel and Aboriginal magic. A shining example of the Dominion's ideal of the Stained Glass Mentality. The Engineers put him to work on the railroad, followed by a garrison of mechanics. He was one of the expendable once. The pulled his body out from a collapsed mountain side, a doll in the shape of a man. His heart no longer worked. They replaced it with a coal engine. Soot and smog would flow instead of blood. His arms and legs were reinforced with steam pistons. Grubby fingers were replaced with oversized mechanical mole hands. Pickaxe nails. Primitive lights were screwed into the top of his skull. An Elder coaxed the Spirit to return the Chinaman's soul, bartering for the lowest price. The soul returned, moody. He had been with his family. They told him when he finished the railway, they'd kill him. He agreed to the terms. His body sputtered and smoked, and he was put to work.
The Chinaman works ceaslessly, inspiring the other workers. Mountains become tunnels. Plains become railroads. The Chinaman doesn't complain. He does his duty, linking sea to sea. He only speaks when he wants to be fed, thick smog escaping from his mouth, his teeth turned blue. They open his chest and shovel coal into his heart. At night, when the pay masters sleep, Chinese children feed him rice. He accepts it, without comment. It's the only reminder that he's still human.
His fleshy bits begin to rot and the metal begins to rest. His skin dries up and shrivels in the scortching desert sun. The workers stay away from him. He smells like a corpse. Buzzards begin to pick at his skin. They carry away clumps of hair and pieces of ear like trophies. A cloud of flies covers him, a personal cloud. The Chinaman continues to work on the railway. Train tracks follow him, like a tail, crossing from province to province. He doesn't know when he'll finish.
The Eldar releases his Spirit when they can see his bones. The Chinaman whispers his thanks into his ear. A cold kiss. His followers bury his body and sing prayers to his bones. Thee Dominion takes his heart. The technology is expensive. They'll need to find another body. Soon, the railroad will be finished. Two more provinces to go.
He's the 10 thousand dollar man. A mix of flesh steel and Aboriginal magic. A shining example of the Dominion's ideal of the Stained Glass Mentality. The Engineers put him to work on the railroad, followed by a garrison of mechanics. He was one of the expendable once. The pulled his body out from a collapsed mountain side, a doll in the shape of a man. His heart no longer worked. They replaced it with a coal engine. Soot and smog would flow instead of blood. His arms and legs were reinforced with steam pistons. Grubby fingers were replaced with oversized mechanical mole hands. Pickaxe nails. Primitive lights were screwed into the top of his skull. An Elder coaxed the Spirit to return the Chinaman's soul, bartering for the lowest price. The soul returned, moody. He had been with his family. They told him when he finished the railway, they'd kill him. He agreed to the terms. His body sputtered and smoked, and he was put to work.
The Chinaman works ceaslessly, inspiring the other workers. Mountains become tunnels. Plains become railroads. The Chinaman doesn't complain. He does his duty, linking sea to sea. He only speaks when he wants to be fed, thick smog escaping from his mouth, his teeth turned blue. They open his chest and shovel coal into his heart. At night, when the pay masters sleep, Chinese children feed him rice. He accepts it, without comment. It's the only reminder that he's still human.
His fleshy bits begin to rot and the metal begins to rest. His skin dries up and shrivels in the scortching desert sun. The workers stay away from him. He smells like a corpse. Buzzards begin to pick at his skin. They carry away clumps of hair and pieces of ear like trophies. A cloud of flies covers him, a personal cloud. The Chinaman continues to work on the railway. Train tracks follow him, like a tail, crossing from province to province. He doesn't know when he'll finish.
The Eldar releases his Spirit when they can see his bones. The Chinaman whispers his thanks into his ear. A cold kiss. His followers bury his body and sing prayers to his bones. Thee Dominion takes his heart. The technology is expensive. They'll need to find another body. Soon, the railroad will be finished. Two more provinces to go.
posted by Rob at 9:02 p.m.
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