"I want to show you something ..."
Tonsi eyebrows waggled. What could be so important that her father had to show her now? She did have a special relationship with him. He never kept secrets from her, it seemed. So this must've been something of great importance.
Tonsi and her father stood outside a large factory building, steam pouring from the chimneys while the smell of burnt metal made her cough. She hated the stink, and sometimes it would accompany her father anywhere he'd go.
They walked up to the building which was larger than any fort. The sound of screeching steel and iron pierced her ears. It was constructed from brick, like most of the buildings in the Oldwest, with a giant W.W., also made from brick, standing statued at the front.
Her father never took her through the front door, where the women worked, and this day was no different; they walked around the back and through the chamber, "where the true men work," Her father often told her. She hated coming this way. Always feeling the eyes of those who hammered on iron and drew steel from the furnaces to soak them bath pools.
"Hey, there Mr. Weebert … and Ms. Tonsi," Ronmire said. He was a toothless man with hands black and the size of mitts. Always with something to say.
"I'm not paying you to talk, Mr. Mire. Get your head straight and keep your eyes of my daughter."
Weebert never seemed bothered by the men. Good help was hard to come by after all, especially on the island of Arkosa. Many of the people working were prisoners themselves, trying to turn their lives around; and working at W.W. and for her father was their only hope for that, which made them loyal.
He gave them a decent salary and the respect they desired. And if any of them tried to leave Weebert never pressured them to stay. Instead saying, "I hope you can find the same treatment I've given you else where." Which would get them thinking, and more often than not, get them to stay. And those who left would often write to him a short time letter, begging for their jobs, though Weebert only brought back the ones he felt deserving, and was worthy of his coin.
They walked towards the back into her father's office. Much of it was empty space, all except the walls that had an abundance of shimmering rifles, revolvers, and shotguns hanging on hooks. And a desk riddled with rolled parchment.
He sat and she sat across from him.
"Now which one is it?" Weebert grabbed one after the other, unrolling, and examining them thoroughly. Whispering to himself as he always did while working. "No. No. No. Awe! Yes! Here it is!" He placed the open parchment over the others. "What do you think?"
The angle and the natural light reflecting off the paper made it difficult to see. Tonsi stood, hands on the table, eyes shifting back and forth.
"Is it just how you imagined it?"
Tonsi ran her hand over the drawing, whispering. "flint, knobe, chamber, gunpowder, ball, bore, muzzle, rammer." Tonsi rubbed her chin while Weebert hands came together, sitting as though he was praying. "Steel? Iron? No. This is not right ..."
"You're certain?" He glanced at the sketching once more. "But it's exactly how you explained it—"
"The bore and cannon balls are still too big ... and there is far too much gunpowder."
He shrunk back into his seat, massaging his forehead. "I could've sworn I had the dimensions correct this time."
Tonsi plopped back in her chair, crossing a leg.
"Father, what I saw was much more … mobile. Eight thousand pounds and forty pound balls is too heavy. When it's time to act, we'll need to be able to mobilize quickly — the weight needs to be cut in half — it'll also help keep the cannon's stability."
Weebert wasn't convinced. "I've tried several different designs … and every time you tell me there a new issue." He grabbed the parchment and crumpled it up, tossing it into a corner. "I've never had this problem prior—"
"It's because you're stressed and not listening. You're trying to design a weapon with steel and iron ... what we need is Corodite."
"I've tried," He slipped open a drawer and pulled out half a bottle of brandy. "I was to drink this when I had it right … but I guess today is as good as any day." He took out two glasses and poured, placing one in front of the girl.
"You know alcohol makes you forgetful and messes with my foresight —"
He waved. "One drink may do us both some good … just don't tell your mother … she'll scold me for it."
"Mother doesn't care if I consume, father."
"It's not that." He chuckled. "You know how she likes your help with the girls. If she knows we were out drinking, and not working, she'd have my head."
"Then we best drink quick and sober up quicker," she raised her glass. Weebert raised his and the crystal rang as it met. "Cheers!"
"Cheers!"
Weebert took it down in a single swallow.
Tonsi let hers linger in her mouth, then closed her eyes as it burned down her throat. "Smooth," she coughed.
"Once your taste buds go it's even smoother." He chuckled pouring another glass.
Tonsi felt a rush of energy to her head. "Father, why were you not able to get the Corodite? You helped the Mayor make the guns for his tournament. Was that not the agreement?"
"It was …" He drowned himself with another then filled his glass once more. "But he paid me off instead. Told me the Corodite is much to valuable to part ways with … which tells me he means to use it … for what, I'm uncertain."
"We can't start phase three without Corodite. These battery's, as is, will never be able to support spell powder."
He shrugged. "And what do you purpose we do? Get rid of the Mayor? He is much too important to silence …"
Tonsi raised her glass and took another swallow. She then coughed and pointed. Weebert filled her glass once more. "How do you silence a man who can't be silenced?"
Weebert was mumbling the question. "The only way I know how is to remove the source of his power."
"You mean," she rubbed her chin, "keep him from being reelected? Father, you know as well as I do, there is none that can or will challenge him …"
Suddenly his eyes sparkled like rubies. "On the contrary … there is one that has gained the respect of the people of Sundown City."
She surveyed him, listening.
"But there would have to be something drastic to persuade her."
"Her?" Tonsi laughed, her head slightly spinning and muscles relaxing. "With all do respect, father, nobody will listen to the words of a woman."
"I disagree." He sipped once more, staring blankly, though Tonsi knew his wheels were turning upstairs. "The people have already been speaking her name — or so I've heard — ever since she'd departed."
Tonsi raised her glass, "and who is this she you speak of?"
"Why who else?" He chuckled. "Leslie Turnbuckle." Weebert raised his own glass. "We shall have a toast!"
"To what?"
"Two phase two and a half." He chuckled. "The removal of Mayor Thompkins. Cheers!"
Tonsi hesitated, feeling a tingle in her hand. She shrugged it off and let the glass ring. "Cheers!"