Chapter 12: Melding
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Ya girl Margie’s excited! I’m working on a f-f-f-fuckin’ spirit ship!

Obviously, the first thing I’m gonna do is build a cannon!

… No, yeah, I know I said building a mega-cannon is out the window, but this is just a normal cannon! A-and I’ve got legit reasons… !

No, really, ’kay? So, first off, I was serious when I said I’d make Grey fly—but if I did that, I’d be skipping a hundred different steps to do it! Flying machines don’t even exist yet, y’know?

The reason why no one’s made a magical flying machine yet is coz the mana batteries and mana engines we can make are too wonky and inefficient. I could make something fly, yeah, but for only probably a minute. If I slapped on more batteries to extend the flight time, the darned thing’d be waaay too heavy to even fly!

Alas—we’re stuck with self-propelled witches on broomsticks. It’s like only being able to make bicycles but not cars. Sigh.

Lucky for me and Grey, we don’t even need batteries!

Grey says he has a super power source. Now, it’s not nearly enough to just slap on some mana engines and call it a day. Grey’s still too damn heavy, so I’m thinkin’ slappin’ on some anti-grav field projectors would be more efficient. The stuff’s really hard to make though, but workin’ under my bestie’s got certain… budgetary benefits.

But before even any of that!

… Grey doesn’t use magic.

Kinda pointless to slap on magic stuff on something that doesn’t even use it.

So, obviously, I gotta find a way to convert Grey’s power into magic power.

B-b-but what’s the cannon for? Are you a cannon romanticist or something? A-and if that’s the case? Whatchya gonna do about it, huh?!

No, but really! Pure-magic cannons are actually still theoretical, y’know? Cannons nowadays just use mana bombs to shoot other mana bombs at stuff for the same reason that people still use guns: we just don’t. have. a good. consistent. power source. Damn it!

I mean, there are designs for pure-magic cannons—courtesy yours truly—but the theoretical consumption is just—baaaad, really.

In short—if I can get Grey to interface with a working, pure-magic cannon, I’d’ve developed half the technologies needed and enjoyed a hobby with a buddy!

***

I’ve finished it! Now to ask Grey for permission to try it out…

{Uhh—what’d you want to do?}

“I need access to your power!”

{Uhhhh—there’s a socket right there by your foot.}

“Huh?! T-that easy?!”

{Oh—hah, you thought I’d give you a dramatic sequence of opening my reactor’s blast doors to you? In your dreams, kid.}

“W-whatever! I-it’s going to be an outdoors test, so it’s not like I was trying to witness something fantastical!”

{Says the one from a fantasy world… Oh, there should be a couple of extension cords under the table.}

***

I’m on-deck and ready to piss my dress!

It took me a bit of finaggling, but I’ve put together 200 yards of extension cords. The prototype magic cannon is now plugged in and charging. I’m watching from 400 yards away, behind five layers of magic barriers.

The magic converter was surprisingly E-Z. There was this research paper a while back about converting lightning into magic power. The authors said that it could be useful for returning enemy lightning attacks or using natural lightning as a power source, but go figure, you can’t rely on either of them as a consistent power source.

Dear authors—thank you for your bravery. Viva science!

After going around the paywall and nabbing their paper, turning the theory into application was a piece of cake—cake? Aw man, I want some, now…

But first!—God have mercy on us all.

With parasol in one hand and a string in the other—I pull the string.

The cannon explodes, my parasol folds the wrong way, but the clouds also part—so it actually fired!

“IT WORKED!”

{It worked?!}

Grey’s deck is on fire and the Japs are screaming and there’s dragons circling overhead—but at least the mana conversion construct worked!

***

H-h-heyyy. I d-drank t-t-too much c-c-coffeeeee.

I. I haven’t. Seen the sun. In—h-how many days? The sun p-peeks at me over the h-horizon.

“Ehhhh, c-close the portlets, G-g-grey.”

{Dude, seriously, go outside.}

U-uh-huh. I’ve been. I’ve been stuck—obsessed with optimizing the magic cannon—a-and the magic converter, of c-course.

I’m—I’m not coming out until I have the perfect solution.

***

Yo. USS Dick here with a shut-in engineer.

I wish I could drag her out. It’s been 2 weeks and I’ve fired my railguns on 5 separate occasions—all warning shots at some random approaching army. Kinda surprised they haven’t broken her concentration.

Never mind that—Marge’s been a shut-in for too long and I’m starting to worry she’d overdosed herself on caffeine. I mean, I shoulda known it was fuckin’ weird for her to ask for enough food to last a month all of a sudden.

She even said she was splurging for Sam, that liar!

I tried getting my marines to drag her out of there. I could open the door, but I couldn’t disable the whole-ass magical barricade she’d slapped on behind it! Man, even the breaching charge didn’t work…

The only thing that can get her to step outside now is if she completes her work.

“I’m done!”

Speak of the devil.

She’s stepped out of her door and is standing in the hallway with coffee stains drenching her lab coat and sunken eye sockets looking Death in the eye.

{Hey hey hey hey hey hey—you okay?!}

“And now—goodnight.”

Y-yeah she just collapsed right then and there. Right. I’ll call the marines to tuck her in.

***

She ended up sleeping for 3 days. She’s flawlessly fine now. Her recovery speed’s kinda scary.

She walked out of there with plans for an “even better magic cannon” and I just couldn’t help but wonder if that was actually worth slaving over for 2 weeks?

She’s on-deck with Sam and Oreo, a bunch of captains, and Embro and his entourage.

“Okay, everyone! Witness the future of magical warfare!”

She—hoisted up a wind turbine? It’s… tiny. I think you could probably charge a bunch of phones with it, I guess. Probably a laptop.

It’s windy on-deck, so it’s spinning pretty well. Marge looks happy.

“Marge—please explain.” Sam asks.

“Sure! This device is a windmill that generates electrical energy!”

The witnesses tilt their heads.

“Hm? Like from lightning magic?” “I don’t see how we can use it, though.”

The captains are murmuring things. I guess people would know what electricity was if they had magic for it, but at the same time, you wouldn’t think of using it for anything if you could do the same with magic.

Marge flaps her arms to recapture everyone’s attention. “Next, this is a magic cannon!”

People squint—like, well, obviously it was a cannon that’s just been sitting there this whole time, and all cannons used magic, duh—but then they realize it’s Marge talking, so they’re all surprised with a “What?!” coming out of each of them at the same time.

“A pure magic cannon?!” “I expected her to do this—but not like this!”

Then—everyone connects the dots.

The turbine. The magic cannon. They look to Marge, pensive in the idea that such a pinwheel could power a cannon. She smiles and points at the cable connecting the turbine and the cannon.

The people shake their heads. The people seek solace in denial.

But fuck your solace, I guess, coz she pulls a string and the cannon fires off with the pounding of a 4-incher. A bright haze flies and hits a target board on the other side of my deck, turning it into splinters and shrapnel.

The people are on their knees and either praying or hitting the ground while crying.

{Hey. Marge.}

“Yep?”

{Can I have one?}

“Sure!”

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