Free World-Ripper War (Mad Tinker Chronicles Book 3) by J.S. Morin Page A

you.”
    Jamile nodded her agreement. There was no reply from Anzik. The two of them stepped through the world hole, and Rynn closed it behind them.
    Once safely back aboard the Jennai , Jamile let out a long breath, ending in a slouch. “Next time, you can go on your own. That was awful!”
    “That was power.”
    “Dan’s still asleep,” Jamile reported. “Let’s clean this up and get out of here.”
    “Kuduks aren’t going to know what hit them,” Rynn muttered as Madlin pulled the panel to reattach the lunar tracker.

    “As you see, gentlemen,” Kezudkan said, his bass voice rumbling across the assembled kuduk troops. “This new venture, of which you are now a part, will make us as rich as bankers. I don’t just mean myself, or Mr. Draksgollow, but each and every last one of you.” There was a stirring in the ranks as the hired soldiers muttered amongst themselves about the implications. “This machine is the key to it all. It is a one of a kind, irreplaceable, indispensable. We must all guard it with our lives.”
    The new Venterad Deep workshop was cleaned and refitted. Equipment gleamed with fresh chrome and wax, polished brass and brightsteel. Few of the new recruits paid any of it the least attention. Standing in orderly rows in their bland, store-bought uniforms, all heads turned toward a single point in the room, and it wasn’t Kezudkan. They all looked through the viewing frame of the world-ripper as Draksgollow worked the controls, giving them a breathtaking view of the Veydran countryside. Yellow fields stretched miles wide, and forests had trees that the Lumberlands could only envy. The wood from just a few of those could set a man up for years.
    “This land is not even upon the face of Korr but another world entirely. It seems much to swallow, but I promise you wonders you have not yet begun to imagine. Tomorrow you will assemble here, and you will actually go through this hole between worlds.”
    There were more mumblings among the troops, and they sounded worried. One soldier spoke up, putting words to the concern shared by many. “Will we have to climb down a rope?”
    Kezudkan put a hand over his eyes. “Mr. Draksgollow, if you please...”
    The airship’s view of the landscape drifted down to a more comfortable level, twisting until it faced sideways instead of straight down. Draksgollow settled in among a grove of trees the size of thunderail cars and even with the ground.
    “And open it, please.”
    Draksgollow obliged, and a pungent odor of rotting leaves and pitch wafted into the workshop. Kezudkan stepped through the world-ripper and back. “Just like that. No trick to it at all. Well ... no trick on your parts at least. I had a puzzle of a time getting the machine to do that.” He chuckled and a chorus of nervous chuckles answered him from the ranks.
    “I will see you all tomorrow morning at six, same spots you’re in now, armed and armored. Dismissed.”
    Kezudkan and Draksgollow watched the soldiers disperse, picking their ways through the workshop and into the barracks area beyond. “Where did you dig these up?” Kezudkan asked. “Dull as eggs, the lot of them.”
    “I thought you’d prefer them a bit simple. The last smart ones I hired mutinied on us. Or don’t you remember?”
    “Well, so long as the machinists in the Telluraki shop are sharper than these. I don’t want to trust my travels to imbeciles.”
    “The machinists know what’s what,” Draksgollow said. “I had to tell them otherwise when they worked it out on their own; they’d have had grounds to turn on us as well.”
    “I told you not to let anyone else know! If they know there are more machines, they might think to take one for themselves.”
    Draksgollow shook his head. “I told them we had countermeasures in place. So long as we make them rich, I think we’ll be fine.”
    “Well, we’d better find some deep veins then. Treasuries, vaults, and the like. We’ve made a lot of