"I don't really know. I mean if I'm thinking old old, Archimedes' Fire, his mirror ray, shipwreck claws, nobody ever exactly replicated any of it. More lost knowledge than a trade secret. Thousands of years old. Darwin's animal breeding techniques... A few decades. The Bessemer process was secret for a while but other people invented it independently. There's a monastery in Germany that brews healing beer that does seem to actually work and not be superstition, a few centuries, and that's a secret, and the swiss tunnel melters are from last century... I don't know that I'd class any of these as really critical. Maybe the beer."

"Superstition is pretty common. Sparky people tend not to be religious, I think, but not as a hard rule. Darwin was religious. And tend to be, uh, headstrong and eager?"

"So not correlated with the Church's power or loss of power... I think it's possible that sparky people are chosen by a god different from the main one, and also different from my god. You're not a cleric or oracle or paladin as I know those things, but I think their precise nature is determined by agreements between gods which might not apply here. Which suggests that I should not expect to get a cleric of Marra, but if I succeed in training someone who would be a cleric at home, they might be chosen by Marra in some other way.

Or maybe your ability is not associated with any god. How much do you know about your family? Any unusual ancestors? Did anything unusual happen to you before you noticed your sparkiness?"

She scowls. "That's not exactly an engineering question. My dad is a worthless deadbeat who left mom to take care of me herself when I was about six, and my mom died of pneumonia because of that. I'd stab him if he showed his face, not ask about his ancestry. So, I don't know. He was tall, I guess."

"Debatable, but if the point had come up when we were negotiating, I would have agreed not to ask you about your past, so okay.

I don't have any other specific questions right now. Is there anything else about engineering you think I would want to know?"

Sigh. "I can't think of anything that would, like. Make me the child of a witch or have a ghost inside me or have glimpsed beyond the veil of reality or anything. No nonsense like that at all."

"Lots of specific stuff, like, how to sound like you have any idea what you're talking about. How much tools and materials tend to cost. What things have been invented recently in case they're informative on new ideas. Maybe the basics of what simple tools and processes are- So you can sound like you work with technical people even if not one yourself?"

That all sounds useful!

When the hour is up, Kireh stops by the inn and then walks back to where she met the Green Gulliman.

The inn workers are stiffly polite to her and show her the room and give her a key.

There's a lot more people on the streets now. Parents pull their children further away from her. Whispers echo in her wake. Street vendors shut covers over their wares as she passes. A few men venture so far as to say 'hello' or 'good evening' to her.

And then as she's approaching the alley where Gulliman was lurking, a young man dressed in somewhat nice clothes and carrying a large notebook runs up to her. He's wearing an odd hat that has 'PRESS' stitched into it.

"Miss! Miss, a moment of your time!"

Ooh, an engineer?

She stops and turns. "What do you want?"

"I'm a reporter with Coast Runner News, I'd like a moment of your time for some quick questions since you're such an exciting new arrival!"

"So you want to trade advertising in exchange for information? Okay. What are your questions?"

"Thank you. First of all, may I have your name? What sort of business do you intend in Bristol? How are you finding our city so far, and how did you arrive here? I've heard you're going to be cooperating with the police here, any comment on that? Do you have any comment on the I.E.C.'s evacuation plan or Britain in general?"

"My name is Kireh, or Cantor Kireh Sarl, or 'Kireh Sarl, the eighth formerly-angelic cantor'.

I am currently interested in providing almost any lawful service. I can read thoughts, desires, and fears. I'm skilled at using this ability for teaching and mental refinement. I'm immune to cold. I'm not great in a fight, but better than an unarmed commoner. I can organize social hierarchies efficiently. If any other jobs I could do catch your readers' interest, I am happy to receive offers.

My general goals are to spread the use of effective social hierarchies to strengthen people and accomplish tasks, build people's resistance to emotional manipulation, encourage people to take joy in themselves independent of external judgement, make social rules explicit and standardized, and increase reliability and decrease crime.

I would like to talk to criminals to learn why they break the law and what I can do to reduce it. If they are trapped with a bad reputation and no legal way to support themselves, I would like to train them to be reliable, using my mind-reading to help shape them, and then I would endorse their newfound honesty, or possibly hire them myself. I will probably wander around most early evenings, and I'm currently living at the Roadsters' Rest inn near the police station.

In the long term, I'm considering building a shelter of my own. I would also like to marry into the nobility. I want to train students, as I described, and also for heretical reasons.

If you're asking how I like the city because you want me to say things to make you feel good, I would preface my answer by chiding you not to be dependent on others for your self-esteem, and that a city is the wrong sort of thing to submit yourself to, a mere slippery idea - you should find a person to submit to instead, who is competent and dutiful in their treatment of you. But I will answer your question, because I keep my word. I am finding Bristol to be overall pleasant, although smelly. I'm impressed with the trustworthiness of the police who I have spoken to so far, although I have heard gossip to the contrary.

The way I arrived is heretical. Do you want me to say more?

I am currently working with the police, yes, but only for interrogations. I am not otherwise associated with them, and will not report information to them unless legally obligated to. I would like to discourage your readers from bending their minds into self-deceptive knots in hopes of lying to me via mind-reading. My interrogations are currently only used for clearing people of suspicion, not for finding evidence of guilt, and if I continue to work with the police I will try to get that restriction set as part of my contract. This means that if I see that you've messed with your mind, and lack the time to interrogate your brain-tangle properly, I will have to end the interview inconclusively, with no chance of clearing you. Trying to lie to me will only make things worse for you, never better.

I don't know enough about the I.E.C. to comment. If I build a shelter of my own, I'm not intending to compete with the I.E.C. for materials, fuel, or other physical resources, and I would be happy to trade with them.

I like that Britain is regularizing its Common Law."

"I see I see, if you have nothing to hide you have nothing to fear, hmm? I'm not sure you mean heretical the same way I mean heretical! I mean, heresy is incorrect doctrine within the church, you're not a heretic you're a heathen, one who does not believe at all- But that's beside the point!"

He has not stopped quickly writing.

"Honestly our readers want to hear that foreigners find Bristol impressive. I'd be interested in some sort of demonstration to prove these supernatural powers! If you plan to build a shelter of your own, who would you admit, how would you fund it? Don't you think the I.E.C. would prevent such a thing since they have near total priority on resources and that would make getting anything from them difficult? The common law is honestly wonderful, no more ancient loopholes and stupid traditions, like the church road tolls or noble wharf privilege. I couldn't comment on where to find criminals or what their motivations are, except that the ones who steal just because they're hungry make for terribly boring stories much of the time..."

"What do you mean by 'if you have nothing to hide you have nothing to fear'? I do not tell the police about anything other than what they specifically asked, and these interrogations happen only with the suspects' consent.

I was told that my background was heretical... do you want the information or not?

I'm happy to demonstrate my mind-reading. Think of a phrase for me to read from you?

I was assuming that the I.E.C. didn't need literally all the metal etc. If needed, I'll make do with substitutes, or buy from them if they have a price I can pay, or join them... I'm hoping to make a lot of money once the most valuable uses of my abilities are identified. I will only admit people who are honest and reliable, with a very few exceptions. If I can be more selective, I will favor those who are dedicated to my principles of social organization."

"Why, the notion that if the average citizen is not a criminal, they have nothing to fear from the police being more powerful. Some disagree because of the incentives and opportunities such a thing creates. I'll accept anything you wish to tell me, though of course I don't want to overstay my welcome!"

He holds out his hand. The phrase he's thinking of is 'red herring'.

"I think people should follow the law, as long as the laws are intended for them and full obedience is expected not just by the authorities but also by their fellow subjects. If not, the laws should be changed.

I was sent here by my god, Marra, who is different from your god. I don't think She was aiming for Bristol - travel between planes is hard to aim and presumably travel between universes is even harder to aim. I would be interested in learning more about the gods of this universe, both the main one and the lesser-known ones."

She presses her palm to his hand. Marra's Inquisition.

"The phrase you're presenting to me is 'red herring'; is that the answer I'm supposed to give, or should I dig deeper?"

"That's proof enough for me!" He's also thinking wildly about how best to present this story. Law and order? Yeah, law and order, though the editor might disagree. With a healthy dose of 'wow look at the scandalous strange thing'.

He pulls his hand away.

"So the laws must be just and fair, and people ought to follow them- Even those in power? What is Marra like? The church of God and Jesus Christ principally teach love, forgiveness, faith, and repentance. And those heathenistic beliefs like the Norse or Greeks, while glamorous, are clearly wrong. If Thor or Ares exist at all, surely they are just aspects of His angels."

"Just and fair? Not exactly. Laws should be explicit. If the law says no stealing except that the Queen can have any land she wants, and everyone knows that's how it works, that's enough of a law to be worth following. If it's, de facto, no stealing unless you have ties to the judge, that means anyone you meet might steal from you! That's useless for letting strangers work together without fear of theft, if that was your goal. And if that's your goal, the people in power benefit the most from the laws. 

Laws can have other goals, too:

Standardized interactions between people leave less leeway for corruption. If you're a merchant and you give a better price to your 'friends', people will manipulate you into liking them.

If I'm teaching someone, and they know they can give up at any time, they won't try as hard as if they sign a contract saying they have to finish, especially if the law were to allow me to prevent them from leaving.

Mortals easily forget their duties, especially when they have power over others, and need clear structure to keep them from tyranny. 'Check for conflict of interest, using such a definition, and counteract it like so' is more actionable than 'act justly'.

Marra is the god of people who like themselves, follow laws and personal rules, optimize others where they have authority and accept optimization from their own superiors, and overcome their mortal emotional vulnerabilities.

Who is Jesus Christ, the Church's most powerful cleric? What exactly is 'faith'?"

(If this god had worshipping gods as an area of concern, no wonder He dominated the other gods!)

"Faith is... Belief, I suppose. I'm not a priest, ma'am. Jesus Christ is the son of god, who came to earth to profess the faith, and allowed himself to be crucified by the Romans to redeem mankind of their original sin. You can probably buy a King James Bible in any bookstore."

He's the god of having beliefs? Wow. What killed Him so thoroughly that some people now doubt His entire existence? Queue that. She needs to talk to a 'priest', and followers of the other gods. And to eventually to read the old god's holy book, but right now she needs to save her money for her project with Waltana.

All mankind - meaning all the people in the planet, since humans are the only breed - were under a curse of sin-magic? Set a reminder to pray to Lissala about that.

"Impressive."

She nods at him and turns away to keep wandering, looking for the Green Gulliman or someone like him. Or any shops selling broken machines, scrap materials, tools - if they'll let her in?

Interview seems to be over, then. The reporter wishes her good day!

There's a lot of pubs. Drinking alcohol seems to be the principal source of entertainment in this district. She gets a couple of catcalls and drunken lewd comments about her.

The 'shady types', people who have the same general stance and bearing as Gulliman, are relatively few, and mostly not drinking as much. They might even be acting like unofficial enforcers- She sees a pair of them remove two men from a bar for fighting at one point.

She spots a pickpocket, a child even younger than Waltana, lift a few coins from a man while a presumable co-conspirator distracts him by dramatically begging in front of him.

Someone suggests she ought to go join the fighting rings. They'd bet on her, it doesn't seem like those claws are for show!

A heavy lorry with the I.E.C. logo carrying crates under a tarp thunders along the road at one point, and the drinkers jeer at it. One throws an empty bottle.

Perhaps a third of the shops will let her in, the bars mostly won't. A lot of the local ones are general stores, selling food and items like brooms or kitchen knives. Quite a few clothing stores, some of which specialize in hats or boots or fancy shirts specifically. There are some hardware stores, with a dusty, grimy miscellany of indifferent-quality coal, old hammers, hinges, nails, glass panes, corrugated tin sheets, repaired old pots, spare lumber, scrap cloth and rags, machine oil, and the like. A shiny coffee percolator is displayed in a place of honor and priced at eight shillings in one. There's smithies, bakeries, butchers, carpenters.

And exactly one explicit scrapyard- with hulking piles of rusting metal, broken glass, bent pots, splintered wood, and broken machinery out back, with signs saying 'JOES JUNK - WE BUY AND SELL JUNK BY WEIGHT - BEST PRICES'.

Any drunken lewd offers of money?

Hm, getting something for Waltana to start with is the most urgent priority. It's more crowded now than she expected, and she doesn't want to publicly approach a likely-criminal to ask about the Green Gulliman. She'll wander back here on future evenings, when she has more time to skulk through alleys.

What's the deal with the fighting rings? Specifically, how do you make money fighting? Do people often die? She doesn't have time tonight and wants to visit the chemist first, but it sounds fun!

How much mass of junk per shilling can she buy at the scrapyard? Is there a limit on how much time she can spend picking through it first?

No drunken lewd offers of money in such explicit terms. (There's a 'you couldn't afford it, you blighter!') Not right out in the street, anyway. (She kind of looks like she might kill you for asking).

Most of the comments about her, apart from the drunk catcalls, carry a faint note of disbelief. Some are insulting.

The fight organizers pay you a cut of the betting, or sometimes just flat, as long as you're an entertaining fighter! You have to be good at mauling the other participant and making it look good, without actually causing permanent damage or trying too hard right away. Nobody likes a fight that's over in ten seconds. Deaths in the fights are rare, maybe a couple a year across the whole city.

No time limit, they've already picked out whatever good bits they bothered to look for. Five pence per three kilograms, except this section of relatively good stuff, which is three pence per kilo, carry it all away yourself. Wheelbarrows available for rent, 6 pence/2 hours with 2 shillings as a deposit.

Okay, so she currently has 13s 4d. She promised Waltana 6s. She's not going to count on any future income except one shilling for fighting, so she has to save 5s, but she's willing to use her reserved savings for the wheelbarrow deposit. If she spends 2s at the chemist, 6d for renting the wheelbarrow, 1s on tools, and saves 2s for unforeseen needs, that leaves her a budget of 2s 10d for scrap.

Outsiders aren't supposed to give information about technology to mortals... which may or may not apply in this universe? Anyway, Kireh has never been to Axis and doesn't remember much about the Axis representatives she's seen in court. Which might be a reason why she in particular was chosen for this mission? That's forbidden speculation on Marra's motives, though.

The hardware stores were selling repaired pots and there are damaged pots here, so that seems like an obvious, if boring, opportunity. Any broken clocks or laundry devices or sewing devices, as Waltana mentioned? She collects some clear pieces of broken glass to grind into lenses.

Projects useful for Kireh's plans: heat sources, so she looks for containers to use as combustion chambers and steam tanks, and pipes for air and steam and fuel? Healing beer, so more containers that can be easily cleaned.

Stuff that's generally useful: wood to carve into various parts, fasteners, bearings, oil, valves, pistons, belts, wire, sheet metal.

And now the fun part: things to inspire Waltana. A geartrain, some weird glass tubes, a grinder, a bellows, a tapered metal rod...

How much of that can she afford? What do they pay to buy junk, if she ends up bringing back the leftovers?

34 pence will get her anywhere between 11 and 19 kilograms worth of junk, depending on how much comes from the better section. They have a big countertop scale. The frowning man at the counter says they usually pay about half for sales back.

In terms of machines and not just random pipes and bowls and parts, there's a broken spaghetti mill, some sort of gas powered torch, part of some sort of large drill, a sort of mixing bowl contraption, some sort of balanced armature (A spinny thing festooned with little pipes and wires), a broken set of lenses and clamps and pads on the end of a series of articulating arms, a sort of screw press rusted shut, and a battered looking grandfather clock (which weighs over 20 kilos all on its own).