The next morning I was woken up by some droplets that leaked through the cracks in the shed’s ceiling and landed on my face. I ran out of buckets and pots to put under them, so there were a few puddles on the floor — including one right next to my bed, which I wasn’t aware of until I stepped on it as I was trying to get up. I checked on Dusty, who was sleeping on my dresser. His fur was still bizarrely fluffy. And he still zapped me when I tried to touch him. So now I have a mean rodent living with me and wet socks. Great way to start the day.

Dusty and I went to the house, ready for another day’s work. Bastian was making breakfast: wholemeal bread and eggs for him, blueberry muffins and a large cup of black coffee for me. He’s such a doll.

“Mornin’, Rags!” he said.

Dusty isn’t a fan of carbs, so he immediately climbed on the cupboard to try and snatch some leftover blueberries. “Hey, I told you a million times not to…” said Bastian as he wrapped his hands around him, only to drop him immediately after getting zapped. “Ouch!” he screamed. “What’s wrong with this critter?”

“Don’t mind him, he’s been a bit moody as of late. I’m sure it’s just a phase.”

Bastian gave him a mean look as he skipped away. “Take a deep breath, Bastian,” he murmured to himself while rubbing his temples. “You don’t want your blood pressure to go up again.”

“Um, everything alright, buddy?” I asked him.

“Not quite. My delivery guy just told me he sprained his ankle. I was supposed to send over a screwdriver set to a friend of mine, but I guess she’ll have to wait.”

“Not a problem. I’ll bring it over to her.”

“You sure? It’s a long walk.”

“Long walks are right up my alley. You should know that by now.”

“Good point. Very well, then. She lives in the upper district.”

“Ooh la-la.”

“Her name’s Andrea Sunhillow, but everyone calls her ‘Dree’. She’s the royal inventor.”

“An inventor? Sounds cool.”

“Yeah. Well, she’s actually a weapons manufacturer, but she prefers to call herself an inventor. Ever heard of the Sunhillow-Downes musket? That was her creation.”

“So who’s the other guy?”

“Downes? An old peer of hers. They had a big dispute over something, though I’m not sure what. Try not to bring the subject around her. I think she still holds a grudge.”

“…Okay.”

“Anyway, thank you so much for doing this. You saved the day.”

“Don’t mention it.”

I figured it’d be best if I took Dusty with me, lest he starts zapping the customers. Last thing we needed was another lawsuit after the faulty hacksaw fiasco. But first, I had to work out a way to carry him around without becoming a walking seizure. I picked up a wooden crate from the inventory and poked a few holes in it. Then, I grabbed Dusty by the fleshy bit of his tail and dropped him inside. I covered the top of the box with a lid and, with that, we were ready to go.

As Bastian said, it was a long walk to the upper district. I had to make my way to the harbor, turn left and follow the canal for a few blocks, cross Cirkus Park without being jumped by desperate shoe shiners offering to polish my boots, which I don’t even have. In the old days, before the crisis, I remember this place would get swarmed by charcoal artists trying to sell you unrequested, overpriced portraits of yourself. I kinda miss that. Anyway, then I need to take Strangiato Ave. past the brothel, where the opera house used to be. Unless there’s a protest, in which case I must take a detour to the shanty town and turn right as soon as I see the monument of military leader turned de facto king Percival Squonk. Phew. It sure is a bit of a maze ‘round here. It made for an enjoyable stroll, though. Plus, it gave me a chance to get a lay of the city, as I have a bad habit of not bringing maps with me.

I arrived in the upper district about half an hour later. It’s a sight to behold, this place. It’s by far the smallest neighborhood in the city, yet also the most heavily guarded. There were surveillance outposts everywhere, which can make you feel more than a bit unsettled when you start realizing that every move you make is being closely observed. Here, sidewalks are wider and houses are tall, filled with ornaments and fashionable designs. They all had big balconies and even bigger spiked fences. Marble staircases lead to the manors’ entrances, decorated with flowerpots, climbing plants and bushes. Streets were so pristine they’d even reflect the color of the sky, bathing them in a blue-ish tint, and everywhere you looked, you’d see people wearing haute couture and walking tiny dogs of rare breeds.

It wasn’t hard to find Andrea’s place. It was an extremely narrow, three-storey house. The front was painted yellow, with orange roof tiles and blue wooden windows, some of which were slightly crooked. The lower half was covered in vines, and the grass in the front yard seemed a bit overgrown.

I knocked on the door and waited under the porch. I was soon greeted by a woman with short hair who was wearing a yellow shirt, a red handkerchief on her neck and dark trousers with suspenders.

“What do you want?” she said.

“Hi! You must be Andrea. Pleasure to meet you. I’m Rags, I work with Bastian. He said you needed a screwdriver set.”

“Yeah, yeah, come in.”

I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. I noticed it was almost pitch black inside. Since there were no windows open, the only source of light came from a few oil lamps scattered about on the workbench.

“It’s a bit dark in here, is it not?”

“It has to,” she replied. “You never know when they might be watching.”

“They? Who’re they?” I asked as I looked around. It was at that point that I noticed the windows were not only closed, but barricaded.

“Thieves,” she replied.

“I never imagined you’d have robbery problems with all these guards around.”

“These people don’t steal your possessions. They steal your ideas. Which they then claim to have come up with on their own, and offer you crummy deals to deter you from taking legal action. Not that you’d wanna go down that road anyway, ‘cause they’ve got all the good lawyers in town in their pocket. They’re cunning like that. And they’re always on the lookout for their prey.”

“...I see.”

“So,” she said, catching her breath. “You’re Bastian’s delivery girl, huh?”

“Not exactly. I mean, I do other stuff too.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, y’know… this and that.”

“Right. Well, leave the screwdrivers wherever. I’ll go get your money.”

Once my eyes got acclimated to the murkiness, I noticed the workshop was messy and filled with junk and scraps, as well as rifle butts and barrels, loading ramrods, black powder crates, and some advanced science equipment that seemed out of this world. You could barely take a step without accidentally kicking some trinket that was lying around. However, I saw a bottle of detergent on the sink, and it wasn’t watered down. So, you could still clearly tell this place belonged to a wealthy person. Shouldn’t have gotten distracted, though, ‘cause it gave Dusty a chance to jump out of the box and start scurrying around the place.

“How did that vermin get in here?” said Andrea at the sight of him.

“That’s Dusty,” I replied. “He’s with me.”

“Well, keep it on a short leash. I don’t want him fiddling with my stuff. And he better not have any fleas!”

She then started pacing around while searching for something. Her wallet, I assumed. I’m sure it might have been easier for her if she’d just let some sunlight in, but I thought it best to keep that remark to myself. She did manage to find a half-eaten pear on her couch, which she then threw away. Dusty rushed to it before I could do anything to stop him. Andrea tried to grab him — unsurprisingly, she got zapped. If the lightning didn’t kill him, I was scared this woman would take it upon herself to finish the job. But, much to my astonishment, she didn’t seem mad in the slightest. In fact, she was oddly intrigued.

“Mop, c'mere for a second.”

I turned my head in all directions, trying to figure out who she was addressing.

“Me?” I asked.

“Yes! You said your name was ‘Mop’ or something.”

“It’s ‘Rags’, actually.”

“Whatever! Just come here, will you?”

I approached her with cautious curiosity. “Did you know your possum could do this?” she asked as a small trail of lightning formed in the empty space between her fingertip and Dusty’s fur.

“Oh, yeah,” I said. “I don’t know what’s up with him, but he’s been zapping us all day. I think he might be going through puberty.”

“I know this might come out of left field, but have you, by any chance, been in contact with any form of electricity as of late?”

“As a matter of fact, we have. We got struck by lightning last night.”

“…Beg your pardon?”

“Well, not me. I was just nearby. It got Dusty hard, though. I thought he was dead at first, but he came out unscathed! Aside from his fur being all fuzzy, that is.”

“I think I might know what’s going on. It seems this thing’s fur is so thick that it’s managed to ‘trap’ the electricity from that lightning bolt within it.”

“Wow. No way!”

“Listen, Rags. Can I borrow Dusty for one day? I need to conduct a little experiment. I’ll give him back in one piece, I swear.”

“Okay, I guess. Just promise you’ll be gentle. He gets stressed easily.”

“I promise. Leave us, now. I’ve got a lot of work to do. You can pick him up this time tomorrow.”

“Alright. See you then.”

I left Dree’s house and set about going back home. Too bad it wasn’t until I was halfway there that I realized she never actually paid for the screwdrivers.