Back in August, WhatsApp let Samsung users transfer chats and backups from iOS to Android, but the feature was mainly limited to Samsung branded devices, and it wasn’t widely available on other smartphones. That’s all changing today, as WhatsApp now is letting any device transfer chats and other conversations to iOS and Android.
Google officially announced that WhatsApp’s new chat migration tool will now officially be available for all Google Pixel devices and that it’ll soon arrive to even more smartphones that launch with Android 12. It’s great to see that the feature will no longer be limited to only Samsung devices, and that any Android 12 smartphones will be able to migrate data over other devices, but it’s weird to see it being limited to Android 12.
Luckily, transferring conversations from WhatsApp is relatively simple and straightforward. You’ll be able to go to the Settings > Chats > and select Move Chats to Android on an iOS device. You just need to make sure that WhatsApp is up-to-date on both devices, and that you have a USB-C to lightning cable ready. Once you’ve gone through the steps, you’ll be greeted with a QR code that you’ll have to scan to start the migration.
Google mentioned that other phone manufacturers would be able to support the new feature when they update their devices to Android 12, which means that many more devices will start supporting this functionality in the near future, but sadly there’s no timeframe given, as it’ll likely depend on each and every OEM – some may be faster than others, and some devices will never receive Android 12. Google also stated that any and all devices that ship with Android 12 will support the feature by default, and users will be able to ready to use it right out of the box without requiring any additional steps.
Watch the Samsung Galaxy Fold 4, Flip 4, Watch 5 Unpacked event live here
Samsung is hosting its second Unpacked 2022 launch event later today where it is expected to unveil the next generation of its Galaxy foldables. The company has been teasing the launch of its foldables for quite some time now, and the moment is finally here. Interested in tuning into the live launch event? You’ve come to the right place. Follow along to find out when the Samsung Galaxy Unpacked launch event starts, how to watch it, and what to expect.
Samsung Galaxy Unpacked event: Date and Time
Samsung Galaxy Unpacked 2022, where the company is expected to announce Galaxy Z Fold 4, Z Flip 4, Watch 5, and new earbuds, is scheduled to take place on Wednesday, August 10, 2022, at 9 AM ET.
This event, just like the past few Unpacked events, is being held virtually. Thankfully. Samsung will be live-streaming the event on YouTube (you can find the live stream link below). Here are the kick-off timings for some regions:
- USA (West Coast): 6:00 AM PT
- USA (East Coast): 9:00 AM ET
- UK: 2:00 PM GMT
- Berlin: 3:00 PM CEST
- India: 6:30 PM IST
- Japan: 10:00 PM JST
- Sydney: 12:00 AM AEDT (August 11, 2022)
In case you having trouble converting the start time of the event to your local time zone, head over to TimeandDate to find out when the Galaxy Fold 4 launch event starts in your region.
Samsung Galaxy Unpacked: Livestream
Samsung will be live streaming the launch event on YouTube. YouTube is one of the best ways to stream an event as its live stream can be viewed on every platform where the service is available — smartphones, tablets, consoles, smart TVs, and more. You can catch the live stream of the launch event embedded above. Those who don’t want to watch through YouTube can also watch the event live on Samsung’s own website.
Samsung Galaxy Z Fold 4 and Flip 4
Reserve now and get attractive offers!
Samsung will announce new Galaxy products on 10 August 2022. New devices that will be announced at the event will likely include the Galaxy Z Fold 4, Galaxy Z Flip 4, Galaxy Watch 5, and Galaxy Buds. You can now reserve your Galaxy device via the official Samsung Store page.
What to expect?
Samsung Galaxy Z Fold 4
Starting off with the launch expectations, Samsung has all but confirmed that it will introduce the new Galaxy Z Fold 4 at today’s event. The new version is rumored to feature a smaller and better hinge, allowing a less visible crease and increased overall durability. The device is also expected to be smaller and slightly wider.
While many were expecting that Samsung would add an S Pen slot to the foldable, much like the company’s Galaxy S22 Ultra, the leaked design renders have shown it is not the case. Other than that, a few reports have also suggested that the foldable could get a chip upgrade in the form of the new Snapdragon 8 Plus Gen 1.
Want to know more about the Galaxy Z Fold 4? Learn everything we know about the upcoming Samsung foldable, including its specs, features, and more, right here.
Samsung Galaxy Z Flip 4
In addition to the Galaxy Z Fold 4, Samsung is also expected to showcase the Galaxy Z Flip 4. Past rumors suggest that Samsung Galaxy Z Flip 4 will gain a new hinge, making it more durable and tougher than before. The clamshell foldable could also feature a larger cover display, making it more useful for checking notifications and previewing selfies.
Similar to the Fold 4, improvements are also expected in the SoC department. Samsung Galaxy Z Flip 3 struggled with the battery life, and the rumored Snapdragon 8 Plus Gen 1, with its excellent performance and better efficiency, could help the Fold 4 in this department. Everything about the device will be revealed at the event, but until then, you can learn more about the Samsung Galaxy Flip 4 right here.
Samsung Galaxy Watch 5, Buds, and More
The Galaxy Watch 5 is the most likely product to accompany Samsung’s foldables. The successor to one of Samsung’s most sold smartwatches is expected to come with a handful of improvements, including a body temperature sensor, a bigger battery allowing for longer battery life, and an updated design. The Classic model could be rebranded to Galaxy Watch 5 Pro. Rumors also suggest that the Galaxy Watch 5 would start around €300.
Finally, Samsung is also expected to introduce new premium earbuds called Buds Pro 2. Samsung unveiled the first generation of Buds Pro back in January 2021, and now a new version is expected to be announced at today’s event. While we haven’t heard much about the Galaxy Buds Pro 2, a few reports suggest that the earbuds could boast features like improved battery performance and support for 24-bit audio.
There is no doubt that today’s Samsung Unpacked 2022 will be an exciting event, not only for fans of the brands but also for those considering gadgets other than smartphones.
In case you’re unable to watch the Samsung Galaxy Unpacked event, make sure to check out the Pocketnow website, where we’ll be covering the launch live. Follow us on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter to stay up-to-date on everything Samsung announces at the event.
Best deals today: M2 13-inch MacBook Pro, Samsung Galaxy products and more
M2 13-inch MacBook Pro
We start today’s deals with Apple’s M2-powered MacBook Pro, which currently receives a 12 percent discount. Usually fetching for $1,299, the latest version of Apple’s 13-inch MacBook Pro comes with a $1,149 price tag on its Space Gray color option, which means you can get your new laptop and save $150. This will also get you 8GB RAM, 256GB storage space, a 13-inch Retina Display, a backlit keyboard, and more.
However, you can also opt for a more expensive 14-inch MacBook Pro model that now sells for $1,900 after seeing a $100 discount on its 512GB storage model that’s powered by Apple’s M1 Pro chip with an 8‑core CPU and 14‑core GPU, and 16GB RAM.
If you’re looking for more affordable options, you can still get your hands on a new M1-powered MacBook Air for just $850 after a $150 discount, or get the Samsung Galaxy Book2 Pro for just $799 after scoring a very compelling 24 percent discount that will help you keep $250 in your pocket.
13-inch MacBook Pro
The new 13-inch MacBook Pro keeps the same old design but comes with the all-new second-generation Apple M2 chipset. The new chipset offers 20% better CPU performance than the last generation and a lot more.
Samsung Galaxy S22 Ultra
Next up, we have the Samsung Galaxy S22 Ultra that is now receiving up to $277 savings, representing a 21 percent discount. This amazing smartphone comes powered by Qualcomm’s latest Snapdragon 8 Gen 1 processor, 12GB RAM, and 256GB storage space. You also get an elegant design that resembles the long-gone Galaxy Note series.
However, you can also opt for the more affordable Galaxy S22 Plus which now sells for $800 after picking up a $250 discount. Or get last year’s Samsung Galaxy S20 FE that now sells for $500 with $100 savings. And if you want the best savings available on a new Galaxy phone, you can check out the Samsung Galaxy Z Fold 3 that now sells for $1,200 after receiving a $600 discount representing 33 percent savings.
Samsung Galaxy S22 Ultra
The Samsung Galaxy S22 Ultra is one of the best Android devices available on the market. It features top-of-the-line specs, tons of power, an extraordinary camera, stylus support, and other great features.
Garmin Instinct Solar
Moving on to wearables, we have spotted some incredible savings on the Garmin Instinct Solar, which is now available for $260. This smartwatch normally sells for $350, so you can get yours and score $90 savings. It comes with a rugged design, which makes it perfect for those who love outdoor activities, and solar charging capabilities to help your battery last longer.
Other options include the Garmin Vivoactive 4, which now sells for $265. This model also comes with tons of sensors and features to keep track of your activities, and the best part is that it looks a bit more elegant, so you can wear it anywhere you want. It is currently receiving a 20 percent discount, which means you can save more than $65 if you choose to get one. And if you’re looking for something even more budget-friendly, check out the Garmin Venu Sq that now goes for $170 after receiving a $20 discount.
Garmin Instinct Solar
The Garmin Instinct Solar is an excellent alternative for those looking for a tough watch compatible with both Android and iOS devices. Plus, its advanced health monitors are a great tool for those users who love to track their progress in various activities.
Beats Studio Buds
Another great deal comes with the Beats Studio Buds that now sell for $100 after picking up a 33 percent discount representing $50 savings. The Beats Studio Buds come in five different color options, and the best part is that this deal applies to every single variant. In addition, these fantastic earbuds feature active noise cancelation, transparency mode, up to 24 hours of battery life, and IPX4 water and sweat resistance.
And you can also consider picking up a new pair of Sony LinkBuds S Truly Wireless Noise Canceling Earbud Headphones that now sell for $148 on both color options, which means you can enjoy these new earbuds and still get to save $51.99.
Beats Studio Buds
The Beats Studio Buds feature amazing class 1 Bluetooth for extended range and fewer dropouts, active noise canceling, up to 24 hours of battery life with their charging case, and more.
Hisense A6 Series
Finally, you will also be able to take a new smart TV home for as low as 230 when you go for a new 43-inch Hisense A6 Series 4K UHD Smart Google TV, as it s currently receiving an 18 percent discount that will help you save $40. However, savings will vary depending on the display size you go for, as the best deal comes with the 55-inch version that is also receiving an 18 percent discount, which translates to more than $61 savings. In other words, you can take this model home for just $288, which is kinda great considering that Hisense delivers excellent products. And if you want the largest model, get ready to pay $618 after the latest $91 discount.
However, you can also add a new 64GB version of the Apple TV 4K to the package since it is now selling for $140 after the latest 30 percent discount that will get you $59 savings.
Hisense A6 Series Smart TV
The Hisense A6 Series Smart TV comes with a Voice Remote, support for Dolby Vision HDR, and DTS Virtual X. Plus, you also get sports & game modes, as well as a Chromecast built-in.
OxygenOS 13: All new features and supported devices
At its August 3 event, OnePlus officially unveiled its latest flagship smartphone, the OnePlus 10T. Along with the new Android device, the company also showcased its upcoming Android 13-based software skin — OxygenOS 13. The new OxygenOS version comes with a new design and many features. In this article, we discuss the new features launching with OxygenOS 13, supported devices, and the software’s release date.
OxygenOS 13: New Features
OxygenOS is no longer the stock Android skin we all used to love once. Instead, the core of the OS has now totally shifted to ColorOS, which means the software is now heavily skinned with a new design language and a lot of features. However, OnePlus says that it will not deviate from its “core product philosophy,” and OxygenOS 13 will offer a “fast, smooth, and burdenless experience” like its previous versions. Here are all the new features of OxygenOS 13:
Starting off with the design, OnePlus has given OxygenOS a new look which it calls ‘Aquamorphic design.’ The company says OxygenOS 13’s new design is inspired by natural elements, such as water, hence the term “aqua.” It offers soft and rounded edges across the UI for a more “soothing” and pleasant viewing experience.
OxygenOS 13 will be brighter in the morning and “intelligently” transition to a darker aesthetic in the evening as a part of its “soothing” approach to Android. In addition, some of the apps have been redesgined, and there there are new fonts as well. The company also adds that it has worked on improving the software’s stability, and OxygenOS 13 should be able to deliver a smooth, stable, and consistent experience.
Most OnePlus smartphones support the feature called always-on display (AOD). This feature shows limited information while the phone is locked. Users can conveniently view time, recent notifications, battery levels, and more. With OxygenOS 13, AOD mode is getting a huge upgrade.
OnePlus has partnered with Spotify to bring a custom widget to AOD mode that lets you view currently playing songs, control the playback, like the song, and do much more without even having to unlock the smartphone. In some regions, such as India, the new AOD mode will also be able to show information from food delivery apps, which will show a map with live tracking data and other info, all while the phone remains locked.
Fast Pair and Spatial Audio
OxygenOS 13 also brings a number of audio-related features. OnePlus has added support for multi-direction audio output, called Spatial Audio, and Dolby Atmos in OxygenOS 13. The company is also adding support for Fast Pair, a feature that will allow you to connect your smartphone with wireless earbuds and other supported products quickly. There’s also an Audio Switch mode that makes switching between sources effortless. Notably, these features will only be available on devices that have the necessary hardware.
OnePlus says that OxygenOS 13 has several productivity features that simplify your workflow. To begin with, the new software comes with a smart launcher that allows users to access apps within folders without actually having to open them. It also includes an expanding widgets feature that lets you see more content by just performing a long press action.
Moreover, OnePlus is also bringing ColorOS’ sidebar feature to OxygenOS 13. Users can pin pre-installed apps and shortcuts (such as shortcuts for screenshot, screen recording, etc.) in the sidebar menu to access them quickly. There’s also a new mini-window mode that opens up apps over other apps in a floating window. On the whole, OxygenOS 13 brings several new ways to access and use apps.
OxygenOS 13 also incorporates two of Android 13’s most beloved features — Nearby Share and App Streaming. Nearby Share, which is available on previous Android versions as well, lets you wirelessly transfer photos, videos, files, and other files from Android and Windows devices in a flash. App streaming, on the other hand, allows you to cast your smartphone’s screen content to nearby ChromeOS devices.
OxygenOS 13 also comes with several security features. The OS will now alert users when they download risky applications or files on their smartphones. A new feature protects your location information when you connect to public Wi-Fi networks and the operating system, in general, gives you greater control over the data you share.
Private Safe has been upgraded to version 2.0 and now supports AES data encryption. For those unaware, Private Safe is a feature that allows users to lock sensitive files, photos, videos, and other data behind a passcode. The new version brings a tighter security protocol than before.
OxygenOS 13: Supported Devices
Here is a list of all the devices that will receive Oxygen OS 13 in the near future:
- OnePlus 10 Pro
- OnePlus 10T
- OnePlus 10R
- OnePlus 9RT
- OnePlus 9R
- OnePlus 9 Pro
- OnePlus 9
- OnePlus 8T
- OnePlus 8 Pro
- OnePlus 8
- OnePlus Nord 2
- OnePlus Nord 2T
- OnePlus Nord CE
- OnePlus Nord CE 2
- OnePlus Nord CE 2 Lite
Oddly, the OnePlus Nord N20, which launched in the US earlier this year, has not made it to the list of compatible devices with OxygenOS 13. Another major omission is the last year’s OnePlus Nord N200. Thankfully, the most recent Nord models will be updated to OxygenOS 13, albeit sometime in 2023.
OnePlus hasn’t provided an exact date for the release of OxygenOS 13 but ensures that the software will be available on the OnePlus 10 Pro sometime in Q4 2022. An Open Beta build will be available for download before the end of this week, with the stable build rolling out in the coming months. Following the 10 Pro, OnePlus’ latest smartphone, the 10T, will be updated to OxygenOS 13.
The rest of the OnePlus models, including last year’s OnePlus 9 series, will receive the update in the first half of next year. What are your thoughts on OxygenOS 13? Do you like the new features? Let us know in the comments section below!
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Give the Minnesota Golden Gophers points for tapping into everyone’s inner vintage video game nerd when promoting next season’s home opener.
Surely, Minnesota was already excited when the Big Ten announced the 2015 primetime schedule and slated the Gophers tilt with TCU for ESPN. They put that excitement to creative use with a Twitter announcement inspired 1980s arcade legend Frogger.
— Minnesota Football (@GopherFootball) April 23, 2015
No, not the newly-revamped Frogger that you can play online. We’re talking about the pixelated, neon-colored old school wonder that was nestled in the back of the arcade when we were kids because it was a #throwback back when the “hashtag” was still called the “pound sign.”
College Spun points out that Minnesota has hit a creative stride with marketing their primetime games, but we are admittedly most taken with the clever promo for their game against the Horned Frogs.
(Granted, the whole point of the game was for the frog to not become roadkill, but we won’t let a need to revamp the whole game get in the way of a good football game promotion.)
Minnesota’s opener versus TCU is scheduled for 5pm Eastern time on September 3. It is one of two primetime games that the Gophers will host–the other homer being against Michigan on Halloween night.
*Featured Photo (above) credit to Clemson Tigers Athletics


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domain: chemistry


We address land-use planning, natural resource management, infrastructure and service provision within Washoe County, Nevada.
Major Water Features
Acreage of major water features within the TMSA.
Source: Washoe County GIS
Number of dwelling units built within the TMSA in the last fifteen years.
Population Growth Rate
Projected annual population growth rate.
Source: Washoe County Consensus Forecast
Mileage of freeways within the TMSA.


text:
The zeppelin thundered through the sky, the clouds parting like the Red Sea before it, the wind cutting through the air and causing each vertebra in my spine to turn to ice as I stared out from the side of the zeppelin - dubbed The Iron Wing - pulling my frayed coat tighter around me as the dull hum of chatter filled my ears, the scent of copper and mist tickling my nose. People were jam packed onto the airship, clustered like groves of ants in the tight spaces, jostling each other in attempts to cross the deck and look over the side through the sky. They called loudly to each other; their voices buzzing in excitement as they pointed to the vast city looming ahead of us, just barely visible through the thin veil of clouds. Pendulum. The city was clockwork, gears of injustice and malice ticking sluggishly beneath the ground; the chime of the city ringing out with lies and treachery. Tightening my thread bare cravat around my throat, I turned from the side of the ship, pushing my way through the cramped maze of people, gentlemen staring impatiently at ticking clocks, a gloved hand on a perfectly polished cane, ladies seated on plush seats dipping into their purses and dabbing at their powdered faces with lace handkerchief, each intricate stitch a façade on their meticulous mask. I gripped my hand tightly around the Altyera pistol in my pocket, delicately fondling the trigger as though it was a fragile bird nestled within the fabric of my coat, a thrumming, frantic beating heart with feathers for bullets. The pistol never left my side, practically melded to my fingertips whatever dark alley or rooftop I strayed to. I considered it bad luck to let it out of my sight. To walk underneath an airship was considered bad luck now as well, and I clenched my jaw, acidic frustration writhing through me as I remembered, the copper tinged wind stinging my eyes as I made my way across the deck. If Pendulum was shrouded in clockwork, gears ticking ominously beneath the surface of lies, then the other cities were the echoing chimes of Pendulum, split off from it almost a century ago to take their own place in this kingdom of clouds that the Uppers called their home. Umberpoint, with all its shining machinery, copper and brass welding, students walking to and fro in the finest universities the city had to offer, and in the kingdom of clouds, Umberpoint was the true ruler when it came to the surpassing technology and machinery crafted by most meticulous of hands; Noxwatch, with its sprawling and finest architecture, workers balancing on bridges and looming towers as they carved stone with their bare hands and metal, with gold filigree and pearl gates crafting the sidewalks, it was no wonder that Noxwatch was indeed a glittering jewel in the crown that were the cities. Ivorymire was home to the finest engineers and mechanics, many undergoing training in the shining academies, responsible for a glorious array of complex machines that ran their city, gleaming with success and prestige; and Cinderwall, a vast towering complex full of secrecy, and where the more shifty sorts made their shelter, technojackers, various gangs and assassins ran riot in the city over run in smog and crawling metal towers reaching the cracks in the sky, and finally, to complete the enigmatic mix of the floating cities was Embergarde. Sprawling with vegetation, flora and fauna bedazzling the landscape, rich soil that grew the finest crops, and the fields and market places teeming with life and rosy faces, Embergarde made a name for itself in all that was nurturing and abundant. However, for the outer cities varied and wonderful qualities, Pendulum still towered above the rest. It was as large as all five of the cities, with a teeming population that constituted of filthy rich merchants and owners of sizeable establishments, as well as peasants and ordinary civilians that were resigned to a life working the mines or churning away the days in the larger than life warehouses. The few that were lucky enough to run some semblance of a business were so heavily taxed that it seemed laughable that they managed to pull enough dough from the plate to survive. Divided into twelve sectors lead by twelve Sector leaders in turn, it was no great surprise that they were like the chimes of a clock; deep, hollow and echoing like empty bones. Pendulum was like a coin, one side was steeped in riches and finery, glistening buildings and brass gears connecting the city together like a great machine, stagecoaches clattering through the finer parts of Pendulum, past the theatres that housed grand plays, past the Emporiums stocking goods of all array that glittered like the morning sun, but must not be mistaken for gold, for they were usually not. And for all the control that the Sector leaders had gained over the years, they still were not satisfied. Still they sought to control all they could. One city to govern was not enough for their greedy fingers and latching eyes; for they fixed their maleficent gaze on the five shining cities in the sky and began to plot. They began to whisper, and to connive, weave their webs, for they were spiders that sought to entrap anything they could into their web, cocooning them in a web of lies, and then swallowing them hole even as they realized they had been ensnared by glittering threads of malice. And so they struck, like a bolt of lightning that twisted and writhed through the sky, a violent storm of assault. Hundreds of people had been reported missing in Pendulum eighteen months prior, simply sucked out of existence, leaving gaping holes were they once were, and people clung to each other in hopes that they would not loose the ones they had remaining. There had been senseless riots in the streets, business and churning warehouses forced to close as people poured out, protesting strikes as they rushed the houses and rampaged through the city, full of fury and fear as they shouted for truth, as they shouted for answers that were not given to them; and the city came to a grinding halt for the next week as the riots continued day and night, the streets lighting up the dark night with people carrying fire lit torches into the town square, yelling and clustering every empty space that there was in the street as they demanded the cause of hundreds of people disappearing from the city. It was after the fifth day of the people fighting, collapsing onto the streets in exhaustion, their faces streaked with tears and smoke from the few remaining warehouses, that the Sector Leaders had finally stepped forward to bring some semblance of order back into the city, raising their delicate hands for silence, stoic Official Guards flooding onto the streets and placating the people, pulling them away from each other and throwing the glowing fire torches to the ground where they burnt brightly for but a few moments on the cobblestone and then sunk into a smoldering pile of ash and defeat, the citizens breathing heavy and harsh as a Sector Leaders weaved their lies and their false promises into the air, mingling with the heavy night sky, the harsh and unforgiving faces of the Official Guards that were a poor substitute for law enforcement lining the streets in perfectly symmetrical lines, their jaws clenched and their fingers tracing the trigger of their Coglar guns with a battle fueled lust that was not quiet ready to be filled. They had promised to find the people, to find the sources of the disappearances, they placated the people with voices as delicate as gossamer thread and copper wire, so convincing and heartfelt that the citizens fell back into order, murmuring and whispering into the stark night air as they vanished off the streets and into their houses, the warehouses and mines once more whirring to life as the people of Pendulum waited each day with breaths held as they waited for answers to pierce through the thick smog of lies, hands coated in coal dust and the grinding noises of the cold factories taking them back into their arms. Cries of relief had poured through Pendulum a fortnight later, as the people suddenly appeared back where they had been taken, confused, dazed as they stumbled and were found by desperate families and relatives who had not given up hope that they would see them again. They had shouted with utter joy as they caught them in their arms, questioning them about where they had been and only receiving confused, befuddled answers in shock as they collapsed onto beds into fitful slumbers, awakening in the dim gloom the next morning, peppered with questions once more, but shaking their head as they realized that they remembered nothing of when they had been gone, their memories completely wiped over like grime being washed from a glass window and being thrown into the gutters to wash away. All was well again, it seemed, even if their memories had been stolen. Truth had been claimed, and loved ones were returned into the arms of weeping families who clutched at them like they might shatter into a thousand pieces. For but a few weeks, all was well in the city of Pendulum. And if the citizens thought that what they had just experienced was terrifying, what was to come would scale on the mayhem of atomic convulsion; shaking Pendulum to its core and bringing it to its knees like a wounded solider. Airships had come careening out of the sky, scorching the atmosphere as the passengers on board screamed, clutching at anything to save themselves as they made impact with the ground, reducing the surrounding area to a smoldering pile of charred wood, smoking canvas and people running in every direction, the peoples faces streaked with terror, children and mothers screaming as they found their husbands and fathers buried among the ashes. Steam trains had derailed, throwing themselves off the tracks with absolutely no cause and smashing through shop windows, through the back of warehouse entrances, some even hurtling through the air and colliding with the air as the metal havoc ripped through the air and embedded themselves in the ground, the passengers on board flung from their carriages and spread around the city like bait for carrion prey. It was utter madness. The city once again screeched to a halt, warehouses growing quiet and the streets of Pendulum abandoned as civilians struggled to restore Pendulum to at least a shadow of its former glory; and after six months of continuous repairs that echoed day and night, metal being towed away and ground being refilled; warehouses and various establishments being built by recruits called in from the cities of Ivorymire and Noxwatch as they fought to rebuild the city of Pendulum, hauling brass, copper and gears high into the air to restore Pendulums national treasure, the clockwork tower that stretched up towards the sky and was visible to every eye that lived in the streets of Pendulum.
The wind cutting through the sails of the airship brought me to, the steel of the side of the looming airship cold and biting even under my gloved fingertips as I finally spotted Venice from across the ship, tucked halfway in between crates of various cargo and piles of passengers luggage, her head lulling in place as she sat there in a place of slumber and I snapped my fingers in front of her face, wisps of hair catching in her collar as she suddenly grumbled under her breath, sitting up and lifting the brim of her water sodden cap to glare at me, her bright eyes fixing me with a look that told me I was an intruder on her peaceful rest. Still glaring at me, she clicked her tongue sharply in her mouth to show displeasure, and cracked her neck to the side to satiate her muscles that had no doubt been stuck in that position for hours since we had left the port in Noxwatch to venture to the city of Pendulum. I rolled my eyes at her, rapping hard on the wooden crates next to her and nudging her foot with my polished boot and jerked my head at her as an order to stand. “Snap out of, Venice, beauty sleep’s over. Better check your pockets.” I said, chuckling dryly and folding my arms over my coat, polishing a button absentmindedly as she firmly tucked her hair behind her ears, folding her lips into a thin line as she dug her hand into her pockets with a concentrated look spreading across her face – nose wrinkled, mouth pursed to the side, one brow lifted as her eyes squinted and then brightened as she pulled out a sack that bulged expectantly and she shook it around, shooting me a smirk and I glanced at her, pulling on my gloves more tightly, giving them an audible snap as a few people brushed past us, heels and steel boot caps clicking against the deck of the ship, the sails furling around us as I grabbed Venice’s arm, towing her with me through the lanes of people that choked up the deck with their incessant chatter and smoky breaths, mouths puffing on cigars and men with untrimmed beards working the sails chewing tobacco ruthlessly as they effortlessly tied rope knots with ruddy fingers.
“No pick pocketers here. At least not with fingers still intact.” She chuckled somewhat darkly, pulling her coat further up her neck, a few stray wisps of hair escaping her cap that she’d all but pulled over her forehead, her eyes darting about somewhat nervously, her finger adjusting the bird pin stuck onto her shirt as though she was trying to comfort herself, her other hand most likely clutched around the Altyera pistol that we’d been given upon initiation into the Fireflies. The Fireflies had started out as a whisper of rebellion in the night, people who were equipped with street smarts and refusing to accept the Disappearances and the horrific calamity that had stung Pendulum as mere accident. They had met together in one of many of the abandoned factories that dotted the landscape of Pendulum, arguing furtively in the cold, metal rooms, eyes cutting into each other as they went forth and gathered information, as they spied and came to conclusions, piecing together information as one pieces together a puzzle piece, and they were missing the last shard that needed to slot into place. They called themselves the Fireflies, because like the so called glowing creatures, they also would glow, thousands of them lighting up the night sky so that everyone would be forced to realize the truth. They reasoned within themselves about the strange disappearances of the people; their memories wiped and having no clue as to where they had been or what happened to them when they were snatched away, of how only a few days after their miraculous return, the horrific tragedy had occurred, leaving Pendulum careening and bleeding with brass wreckage. There had not been an airship malfunction in over a century, so that was when they came to the all too clear confusion that these two events were connected in some way. Who was powerful enough to arrange this sort of wide spread event, something that would affect an entire city? The Sector Leaders of Pendulum. The very people who were supposed to lead and govern our city with a benevolent hand was bringing it to its demise, for reasons that were startlingly unapparent. I had a past that I didn’t sit too well with, my former occupation being a technojacker that slunk around the five cities doing shifty work for whoever would pay me enough Gunts deemed worthy for the job. Technojackers were not fondly looked upon by most of- the population, but there were the few that employed our shifty skills, and I had become a rather well known technojacker in said community. I did not claim such a high and lofty title of my own accord, only after sneaking around in the shadows for what seemed like years, had my work slowly gained credit in the sly world that was full of technojackers striking deals left and right without blinking an eyelid – even if it meant harming the innocent – as long they were given the hefty sum that paid so well, there was nothing to throw a wrench in the gears. I still fought to keep my fingers, albeit slippery with moral ambiguity, on my compass of good and evil, only taking jobs that would not result in the harm of another innocent. When I did take lives, it was with great regret that I did, striving never to let my finger touch the trigger recklessly if I could help it. However, after the great catastrophe that struck Pendulum, jobs became scarce for the technojackers, extremely hard to come by, as most everyone was now caught up worrying about trying to rebuild the city of Pendulum. I had struck two rocks together and come up with no spark, so to speak, when it came to finding work in that order of business. It was during completing what was to be my final technojacking job, that I had been stealthily approached by two shadowy figures, who whispered their proposition to me in hushed tones, glancing about warily to avoid being seen, since the three of us had no business in being where they were. I had been curious as to how they had found me, and I had asked them this, my hand poised on the Televider that I was using as my tool to complete the job, and they merely glanced at each other knowingly before claiming that, “they had their sources.” I had heard rumors of the Fireflies, whispers of the enigmatic force across the grapevine of Pendulum as well as in the community of the technojackers, that they were rising to find answers, to seek, to lure the truth out from it’s hiding place. I had been intrigued by their claims, as this was the first time a rebellion group had ever risen – at least, not ones that lasted for any measurable time or did any severe damage. Of course, there had been the old joking comments about the Scarabs; a group of hackers, mechanics and shifty showmen that had shown up on the plot almost five years ago, claiming to bring a revolution, but that had quickly died out, fading into the smoke and fog of the city, forgotten like the rain that seeped into the ground and became nourishment for plants.
And so that was how I, Tallion Starkven, agreed to join the Fireflies, a band of almost two hundred people of all various professions and trades, as we schemed and searched to find the answer to these two horrific events – the Disappearances, and the tragedy that had befallen Pendulum soon after. I was not exactly admired when I first strolled through the doors of the Firefly base, an old bunker hidden in the midst of the coal mines in the second Sector of Pendulum, cold metal railings clanging around me, with people shouting across rafters and platforms, busily working away at whatever tasks they had been assigned to do, and lights dotting the floor, guiding the path before me as I was lead to Levi Kingsford, the founder of the Fireflies, given my Altyera pistol that all new recruits received upon initiation and had been quickly assigned to my first mission, where fate had decided to throw me and Venice Rinalov – a highly trained mechanic who had gone over from Pendulum and had completed training at the Yarington Academy of Mechanical and Engineering in Ivorymire. I soon discovered she had an acerbic taste for humor, and paired with her inconsequential sarcasm and somewhat sharp wit, we had quickly discovered our affinity for completing various difficult missions in a manner so quick and efficient that we soon had the other Fireflies murmuring, and Levi summoning us to his office, where he made us official partners. We switched roles between the classic Sherlock and Watson at times; an exchange that came in handy at the most opportune times. The ship shuddered as we landed on the ship port, a loud shout breaking through the clamour of the crowd as the crew scrambled across the ropes, lashing it to the side of the decking with clips and harnesses, gesturing wildly at each other, with the occasional an unsavoury gesture thrown by one of them, their suspenders being snapped in angry protest at the crude form of communication. The ship vibrated under our feet as it swayed in the air, the dull hiss of the steam and the grinding of the gears in the balloon above whirring and spraying a rapid wind across the fray of people; and I breathed in heavy the scent of Pendulum: the pungent odour of coal and the sharp spice of the smoke wafting up from the factories and warehouses in the distance, the skyline heavy and jagged under the darkening sky, clouds hanging low with foreboding promises of rain. The streets that weren’t lined with cobblestones were muddy and slushy, the people trekking through it muttering in disdain as it caked the bottom of their trousers and skirts, the muddy shower spraying up onto the sides of various corner stores, the windows that were caked with grime being cleaned by a shoddily dressed worker, face pulled taut around their face as they scrubbed the windows arduously; only to have to make the same motions again a few moments later when inconsiderate passersby would again kick up the muddy path, sending a spray of the filthy grime towards the window and the worker. “It’s a wonder you haven’t had your fingers chopped off with all the pockets you dip into.” I remarked sardonically, glancing at her from under the brim of my hat, indulging in a sly wink as I was no stranger to the fact that Venice had grown accustomed to reaching into the pocket of an unsuspecting merchant and removing a Gunt or two. “They have more than they need.” She had retorted when she saw me staring at her with an arched brow after I had spotted the mischievous act the first time, and she flicked the coin up in the air and I had smiled to myself when I saw her slip it into the pocket of a worker on the side of the street, pretending as if she’d merely stumbled in her passage. “Please, you hack security firewalls. You’re no Saint Paul yourself.” She chuckled in mirth, flicking the side of her cap in the form of a crude gesture that was typical here in Pendulum, and then shoving her hands deep into her pockets as we made our way down the gangplank, the wooden beam sagging with the weight of hundreds of people teeming around us, loud clanging from hammers in the distance melding with the shouts and hollers from the city squalor around us; and I inclined my head as I heard the distant pluck twangy pluck from a fiddle no doubt being held in the hands of an anxious busker – a penny for the supper earned on the street was not fondly looked upon, especially by the Sector Guards, and if said busker didn’t keep a sharp eye out, would most likely be removed and heavily fined, so the pluck was but a tentative chord that mingled with the bitter frost of the air. “Don’t insult me, Venice – I was getting ready to be put in a cathedral window.” I retorted, allowing myself a cynical hoot under my breath, a puff of frost passing my lips as I took another breath of the smoggy air of the city, walking shoulder to shoulder next to Venice as we entered the tightly packed tunnel, cigar smoke seeping into the air, the distant rattle of a coin being dropped, hasty limbs that tried to push past me being quickly withdrawn as they realized that they were going to get stuck. We finally exited the tunnel a moment later, breaking into the city streets with the sky that was now drizzling with rain, hundreds of people walking by on the crowded streets with long trench coats dragging across the cobblestones. You could spot the well to doer’s by if they had umbrellas or not; and I could hear the low peals of Pendulum’s clock tower tolling out the midday hour, however the absence of sunshine in the sky made it seem much later in the day. A few street vendors were clustered in the opening of alleyways and thin roads, their stalls laden with various goods such as Pendulum’s weekly newspaper – The Weekly Chimer – as well as leather satchels, perfume bottles with the scents that were well known in Pendulum – Rainfall Rose and copper Sardony – and they dealt furiously with the occasional customer as they dug into their coin purses and dropped into the hand of the vendor with a sharp tip of the hat, an almost wordless exchange that was only noticed by the sharpest of eyes. Venice only gave acknowledgement with an understated snicker as she rubbed her hands briskly together, trying to bring warmth to them and I instead concentrated on the reason why we had made the journey out to Pendulum in the first place – to infiltrate the Annual Admissions meeting; attended by every Sector Leader in Pendulum, the towering dome building that would officiate the meeting loomed barely visible in the distance by the constant churning of smoke, heavy fog and drooping clouds that brushed the skyline of Pendulum. We were tailing two of said Sector leaders: Mr. Lester Redway – a charming, naïve gentleman in his late thirties with a deep burgundy cravat and a navy trench coat studded with gold buttons that gleamed under the light from the lamp posts that lined the street; Leader of Sector Six, located on the east side of the clock tower – and Mrs. Arabella Whyting, Leader of Sector seven, north west of the clock tower – a high strung, aristocratic genteel woman drowning in lace and silk, with brass finery adorning her collar and a cluster of pearls settled on her pale, thin collar bone; a lively face with a semblance to a strutting pelican, her glinting eyes settling upon the Admissions Building in the distance with a highly satisfied smile settling on her face, and I gave a low grunt of disgust in my throat at their pomp and grandeur as they waited heralded on the platform that stagecoaches would pull up to. I turned back to Venice after a moment, spotting her just a few steps up ahead where she was looking anxiously through the crowd, her dull red coat turned up against her pale skin that only had the faintest smudge of axle grease on it from where she had been sleeping at the foot of the cargo that was being shipped over from Noxwatch, her bright flashing eyes scanning the crowd, with the slight nuance above her eyebrow indicating worry and I caught her eye, a flicker of relief eclipsing her eyes for a brief moment before she scowled as she strolled languidly towards me as we neared the depot of the ship departing gates, a man practically snatching people’s tickets out of their hands as he lifted a pair of spectacles to peer through them, assuring they weren’t counterfeit, tugging at his handlebar moustache as he waved through them through and gestured impatiently to the next passenger that was milling at the head of the line. “Right,” I said sharply, glancing up at her from where I had been examining my pocket watch a moment earlier, watching the needle tick almost sluggishly across the pristine face. The time was 12:12 p.m. on the dot. I took that as a sign. Double numbers meant good luck, and I was going to carpe diem, as one would say. I wouldn’t let luck slip through my fingers on any day, especially not on this Wednesday afternoon, “We use the tickets, nothing else. No funny business. I should be checking your sleeves for any tricks you may be hiding up them.” I said derisively under my breath as the Ticketmaster loomed further up ahead, eyeing each passenger that stepped up to the deck with a steely look, lifting his spectacles carefully with a shaky hand to inspect the wrinkled red ticket that was clutched in their fingers. Venice looked at me staunchly, a half smirk lifting her lips as she made a great show of pulling away the cuffs of her sleeves to show me that there was nothing hidden there, snapping them back into place for effect, and I swatted her hands away as she let out a muffled snigger, repocketing her hands and pulling out her ticket stub held somewhat reluctantly between her two fingers. “Funny business? "Venice's eyes flashed indignantly, placing a hand on her hips, and the other still hand holding tightly to the ticket, which she waved mockingly in my face before curling her lip into a sardonic smirk; her eyes flashing with mirth. “I wouldn’t dare." I gave a malignant snicker, arching my brow and snapping my ticket between my two fingers; the feeling of wrinkled paper, slightly tinged with the smell of soot barely noticeable under the leather of my gloves. “Please – you’d eat a dare for breakfast.”
The wind had picked up around us, blowing the fog that sunk around the city skyline over the crowd, obscuring the store fronts and melting into the cobblestone road that lead through the first Sector of Pendulum. Venice gave a throaty chuckle before tipping her hat cynically at me. “And served on a silver platter too.” People were cramped around us like moths surrounding a lamp post, rough scratching of fabric and limbs unsettling me, and I fingered the tips of my gloves to calm my beating heart, gears and cogs of my lungs scraping in retaliation to the scene around me and the looming knowledge of what we were about to do. Every rustle to my side, every hushed whisper, every slight nuance in the crowd had me on the edge of my seat, so to speak, as my eyes darted to and fro keeping an eye on the clustered crowd around me as we moved ever closer towards the ticket booth. On the streets behind the ticket booth, a few stragglers were stopping by to stare at the incoming passengers, a few of them pointing up at the airships docking behind us; voices laced with a harsh undertone of disgruntlement, the curl of their lips as they shook their heads, wiping their soot and coal stained hands onto the front of their frayed clothing before vanishing back into the fog and the crowds of people that threaded themselves through the streets of Pendulum like they were sewing a fine gown. From across the docking that circled ship port, a young girl appeared out of the crowd, a head of messy brown curls with a lopsided red ribbon tied haphazardly around her neck; anxiously knotting a handkerchief together with bone pale hands as she leant down to shakily fasten her boot laces together before standing up, peering into the line of people that moved closer to the toll booth, no doubt waiting for someone. A brother, or perhaps from the way she kept distractedly smoothing down the front of her brown skirt, and toying with the ribbon at her neck, a sweetheart. Perhaps he’d been travelling, or perhaps he’d gone to find work in one of the other cities.
Before I could continue my musing, she vanished back into the mulling of people, the clatter of shoes on the cobblestone road like the sound of tinkling hail. Street vendors still shouted their various ballads to bring in sales and most of them had a crow on their shoulder, ruffling their feathers as their beady eyes took in the people, a soft cawing coming from their beak every so often as they hopped from said vendors shoulder to the street, where they would peck for a few stray crumbs before returning to their rightful place. I tightened my hand into a two-fingered fist – the subtle hand gesture was said to ward off the bad omens that crows carried with them. It was fitting for the city. Crowded with crows, bad omens; although I wondered that they did not yet leave while Pendulum seemed to be safe and well once more. That told me only one thing. The crows warned us. With bad omens in their wings; and shadowy knowledge in their eyes, they showed us one thing. Pendulum was rotting. Like a nest full of spiders protecting a corpse of a dead bird for food, Pendulum was turning foul at the very core. Out of the conglomeration of the crowd I could see Redway and Whyting still standing on the platform where a procession of stagecoaches were making their way through the crowds and clattering over the cobblestones, their wheels churning and the steam powered gears that moved the coach hissing, creating a melody with the rain that spattered on the gleaming windows of the coach. Despite there only being a tentative drizzle in the air from the sprawling clouds above; Lester had produced a jet-black umbrella and had snapped it up into the air, shielding Mrs. Whyting from the little spatter of drizzle that was barely dusting the air. I arched my brow in amusement as I saw that Mrs. Whyting was fawning over Mr. Redway with great gusto, her delicate fingers brushing against his neck as she whispered something in his ear and he turned a startlingly bright shade of scarlet as Mrs. Whyting tipped her head all too innocently up at him; her shapely upturned nose high in the air as she impatiently adjusted the curls in her elaborate cacophony of a hairstyle. One could say the Sector leaders certainly lined their waistcoats in gold and wore their rubies around their neck, so to speak.
I tore my gaze away from the questionable doings of Lester and Redway, smoothing the collar of my coat so that it sheltered my neck from the assault of the chilly wind; the sound of the Pendulum clock tower in the distance tolling, low pealing that seemed to send monumental sensations through the air, and another airship roared overhead, the shadow of it eclipsing the ground for a moment and I couldn’t help but tense at the sound of it. Venice’s face had gone taut as she’d lifted her head to the sound of the airship, her jaw stiffening and her finger touching her bird pin fastened to her collar before she visibly relaxed as the airship disappeared into the foggy clouds above us, the sails of the ship becoming hazy as the clouds surrounded the hull and drank it in. Leaning over to Venice, I eyed my pocket watch again casually before snapping it shut again and lifting my gaze to Venice, her bright eyes framed by sooty lashes flickering in the misty air as she gave me a side long glance, tucking a stray strand of her wispy hair back into her cap and tightened her own ragged coat around her slim form.
“Got your eye on Mrs. Whyting?” I murmured; tucking the pocket watch back into the lining of my coat as I auspiciously observed them still on the platform, Mrs. Whyting still fawning mercilessly over Mr. Redway, her lace gloved hand resting firmly in the crook of his elbow while she gave a little laugh that reminded me somewhat of the sound a sea gull might make.
“No, she’s not really my type, to be honest.” She said in a matter of fact tone, giving me a sly glance as she carefully wiped away a smear of coal dust from her neck, frowning at her fingers for a moment before thrusting them back into the comforting warmth of her coat, albeit threadbare. I bit back a bemused snicker and instead arched my brow at her in a disparaging manner, tapping my gloved fingers together and fixing her with a shrewd gaze. Venice relented, moving closer to me and gave me a nudge in the shoulder before gesturing subtly with her head, lifting her chin in the direction of the coach platform, rain now slicking the metal decking and Mrs. Whyting lifting her skirt up with a look of abject horror on her delicate face, coughing into a lace handkerchief before tucking it back into her tasseled silk coin purse that was hanging off her elbow. “I see her. Redway seems to think she’s the bee’s knees.” Venice gave a low chuckle in the back of her throat, her eyes narrowing in bemused disbelief of the exchange between the two; Mrs. Whyting apparently the master of manipulation what with her delicate whispers and girlish giggles that would float through the air toward me and bit my ears like a pair of cutting knives. “I don’t think that her knees are the assets that he’s admiring – correct me if I’m wrong.” I bit back another smirk as Venice wrinkled her nose at me, her knowing glance told me that my words had been understood. Venice rolled up the sleeves of her coat, revealing her dark green shirt that had been hastily grabbed from the clothing robe back in Noxwatch, and flicked up the collar of her coat, the fur lining nestling comfortably at her neck before giving me a scathing look, her lashes looking decidedly sooty against her cheekbones as she curled her lip at me. “Well, aren’t you just charming.” “How observant of you." I'd wanted – as well as thought prudent – to make good use out of the cloaking devices that the Firefly lab workers had been working on back at the base in Noxwatch. Getting into tricky places would have been an easy feat, however, using them to complete the entire mission was too good to be true. Not only were they difficult to use at best, they were the first newest models, and susceptible to malfunctioning when least expected. The final reason why I’d been secretly pleased that no cloaking devices were to be used was merely the thrill. The thrill of a risk, of an adventure, of having to plan and scheme and connive. In my previous years of being a Technojacker, that was something about the job that I’d come to crave, that was what I enjoyed immensely about doing what I did. The rush of adrenaline that flooded through me when in the middle of completing a job was thrilling to me, and after leaving that behind for the Fireflies, I’d missed it. The thrill of risky adventure.
A steamcoach rattled dangerously close to the crowded line of passengers that were swarming about in the tightly compacted metal gating that prevented us from venturing out into Pendulum until our tickets had been thoroughly examined. The low, shallow hiss of the steamcoach whistled through the air in time with the bustling hustle of the streets, the wheels of the coach turning methodically and precisely as if under instruction from a hidden metronome that ticked away. The bronze exterior of the coach gleamed under the wet slick of the rain, the windows shining from the glow of the lights from the street lamps and the rain running down the surface of them, catching the prisms of light and scattering onto the murky puddles of the road. The copper Covol spanning its metal wings sat proudly, if not austerely, on the top of the curved coach roof; its half open jutted beak catching rain and the light inside and standing out against the stormy clouds that possessed the sky above us.
“Tickets!” The man at the ticket booth was the one to yell this in a harsh tone that broke across the thrall of people as they dug into bags and pockets and purses, arming themselves with the thin strip of faded red paper that had allowed them passage onto The Iron Wing. I allowed myself a brief look back at the docking platform, where several other large air ships were now being anchored and numerous crew sporting heavy boots and strapping suspenders scurried to and from the side planking carrying wooden crates and large metal shipping containers between themselves, loading them into various side bays where sharp looking gentleman waited with bored faces and an official looking document in hand, who were no doubt the recipients of the various cargo. The one nearest to us was a gargantuan ship with a gracefully curving hull and the stern and stem of the boat cutting like the fierce edges of a cliff face, the steel cords connecting the gondola to the large balloon that floated atop it with the name of the ship – this one being The Copper Falcon – etched elegantly along the side of it, crew attending to various places on the ship, scuttling like hives of ants as more cargo was unloaded. Most of the larger airships carried cargo that was imported in from all the other cities that resided in the sky, Noxwatch yielded planks of wood, slabs of stone and other construction tools in exchange for a hefty shipment of coal and Tungsten, an impressively strong element that was only mined in Pendulum but that was highly sought after for it’s strong resistance to corrosiveness and electricity, as well as being ridiculously difficult to penetrate. Ivorymire relinquished barrels of Vetrine oil – which was useful from anywhere to cleaning, to oiling leather boots to keeping the clockwork machinery running smoothly, - as well as hundreds of gears and cogs that were used to build most of Pendulum’s steam coaches and power the equipment in the various warehouses that were operated in the twelve sectors that made up the abounding city of Pendulum. Umberpoint had little to offer in the way of loads of cargo, so the exchange was mainly new technology that had been under development and that the leaders of Pendulum were willing to pay more than a few Gunts to get their hands on; Embergarde was the most proud of its bountiful offerings, being the only city to supply a wonderful and fresh array of all kinds of edible produce, fruits of all varieties, root and vine vegetables, and thousands of vials full of honey, wickerdew – another sweet natural substance produced by curious little black and emerald green beetles; a thick yet light syrup that was delicate and spice filled in flavor – as well as all manner of elaborate and exotic breads, meats and pastries made by the most meticulous and crafted bakeries that dotted the small city of Embergarde. Cinderwall was more furtive about their trading, preferring to send over ambassadors in the dead of the night sky that was only pierced by a handful of stars and exchange goods furtively at a select meeting place by the few traders and warehouse managers that decided it fit to purchase from them. Venice and I finally reached the front of the line, and I couldn’t help but reach surreptitiously for my pocket watch again and flicking open the lid to stare at the time, looking around with an anxious gaze to where I could see a few other’s had joined Mr. Redway and Mrs. Whyting on the platform. I allowed myself the pleasure of a muted chuckle as I saw that the other would be passengers were not amused by the two Sector Leaders display, and that Mrs. Whytings elaborate framework of a gown was taking up nearly the entire rain slicked platform. We both handed our tickets over to the wizened old man, his patched-up cap slanting over his spectacled eyes as he took our tickets with wrinkled hands and gave a low grunt in his throat as he turned the tickets over, looking at them closely before raising his wiry eyebrows and peering at us over the rims of his smudged spectacles.
Venice and I gave each other nervous glances, looking anywhere except at the old man before he cleared his throat loudly and handed us our tickets back. I wasn’t going to keep it as a souvenir, but despite that I gave him a firm nod as I tucked the ticket back into my pocket and glanced side long at Venice as she kicked up a few stray stones and let them clatter over the road before pulling her cap over her forehead again and then tucking the ticket back into her coat pocket. He waved us toward the gate looming tall behind us, the metal scraping against the cobblestone road as we finally entered the clustered streets of Pendulum, the noises louder than ever, people dropping no courtesies as they milled about us, a few of them even stepping on our toes as they hurriedly rushed past us. Street vendors still clustered the street, clanging on bells and clanging pots and pans to get peoples attention; the racket infesting the crowd and adding to the raucous sounds of the city as we weaved our way between the muck of the citizens, passing stores with doors being banged shut loudly, shadowy silhouettes of figures just visible in the smeary windows of the store which were being attended to quite well by the rain, the stenciled letters boldly proclaiming their name and the manner of goods they had on sale. Looming apartment buildings shined proudly in the rain, the windows lit up by lanterns or flickering candles in the room behind it; revolving doors allowing people entrance and door men standing by with stoic faces, their silver buttons gleaming against their properly brushed navy velvet coats, their tall hats adorned with tassels and hands covered by crisp white gloves as people filed in and out of the building that stretched along the main street in Sector one of Pendulum. The rain drizzled on me, my face feeling the icy chill of the water as it grabbed stray strands of my hair and settled contently upon the leather of my gloves, our boots methodically sloshing through the puddles that gathered in the potholes of the street, and I held my hat firmly onto my head as a steamcoach thundered past us with surprising speed, rolling up to the coach platform that we had been making our way towards, intent on following Redway and Whyting with the purpose of infiltration. Just the thought of it sent a delighted shiver through my veins as I imagined the rush of adrenaline through me and the quiver of adventure that would stream through my veins.
“All aboard, anyone?” I directed the question at Venice as I watched the steamcoach that had passed us a moment ago roll up to the platform where a set of steps smoothly slid out from the coach and lifted until it reached the platform, where Mrs. Whyting stepped onto them gingerly, all the while clutching to Mr. Redway’s hand as he opened the door and gave a bow – mock or real, I couldn’t tell – as Mrs. Whyting disappeared into the coach, her skirt only vanishing after she’d all but yanked it in the coach, struggling a few times with the hefty folds of her gown. I saw Redway mop his hand through his hair with a look of subtle desperation as he twiddled his thumbs on the top of his gold tipped cane before the skirt finally disappeared into the coach. The coachman, who sat up the front of the steam powered vehicle, his only job being to guide the coach down the busy streets, breathed deeply with a look of exasperation on his face as he glanced down at the busy street before finally pulling out onto the road, the crowd immediately clearing for it’s passage. It’s slow amble down the street allowed for us to follow it, albeit at a quick pace, having to push our way through particularly crowded sections of the streets at oft times. The stagecoach was still making its way slowly through the close-knit crowd that rushed to and fro on Bracken Street – the main street in Sector one of Pendulum – and as we quickly weaved our way through the crowds our hands tightly gripping at the cold metal, Altyera pistols curved and smooth under my hands like polished glass. I caught glimpses of Covol birds on the roofs of stores and shoddily built houses, their long wings drooping with black feathers across the metal tiling, their long elegant, ink like talons scraping across the metal piping as they slunk down them, staring into the crowd with their sharp eyes and constantly half open beak before slinking down an alleyway leaving a spray of water behind them as they flicked their wings into flight.
Children scurried through the side streets and alleyways, playing games of tag and Fight the Clodhopper up on the platforms that rimmed the two or even three storied buildings, their ragged boots clattering loudly on metal slats above me, their tinny, gruff voices piercing the foggy air as children with battered caps and unruly curly hair ran through the streets of Pendulum. A few of them sat upon the roof, their rough legs slipping and sliding over the rain slicked metal roofs, their hair curly and wet from the rain, sitting there laughing and whispering to each other as a girl with a faded blue pinafore tugged a boys bright red hair teasingly, and he let out a sharp yelp before swatting her with his cap. My heart leaped in my chest, fluttering anxiously like a bitterbug as I saw a few Sector Officials with steely faces and brass shoulder pads weaving through the crowd, sending the children in alleys scattering and cats slinking back to their places on the roofs, letting out obligatory hisses and snaps, their fur standing on end and their tails waving back and forth infuriated in the air. The cats were the protectors of the children around here, and I knew this because they gathered them up in their arms, their spry and wiry limbs wrapping around them comfortingly, scratching their ears and peeking out between chimneys and platform galleys to glare at the Sector Officials.
“You’ve got the Shrouds, don’t you?” I grabbed Venice’s arm mid stride, passing a loud talking group of dingy looking coal workers on their precious break, smoking home-made cigars, their stubbled faces matted with streaks of coal dust, their hair ratty and greasy as water for hair washing was a bare luxury, and there was no point to them washing it anyway, since it would only go back to its former state as soon as they went down to work in the heavy, hot coal mines. I didn’t allow myself to dwell on conditions for the workers, as well as the unfair pay rate and harsh working hours. There would be time enough later for that. At this moment in time, our mission was clear. This was our first step to restoring the rotting core of Pendulum from the hideous clutches of the Sector leaders. “Have a little faith in me, Tallion. What do you take me for, forgetful or something?” she asked archly, her tone betraying infuriation even as her lip curled in a half smirk as she patted the heavy brown canvas bag hoisted around her shoulder somewhat affectionately, and then turning her attention to the stagecoach still ambling on in front of us, her hooded eyes flickering with a hint of worry and I felt a coil of a spring trap in my own stomach as we continued through the crowd, the rain having settled down to a dull drizzle now and the distant chugging of the coal and tungsten mines in the distance as workers filed back to their respective holes in the ground. “You’re lucky that’s not on my list of what I take you for.” I chuckled lowly, the faint sprinkle of rain dusting my cheeks calming me for a moment as I glanced up towards the sky, catching a glimpse of an airship disappearing into the veil of fog and clouds, its steam engine whirring faintly in the distance as I continued to stare, half entranced and half terrified of it as my throat became dry like a chaffing field of wheat burned by the hot sun. Venice looked like she was about to fire off another distasteful comment served with a pinch of attic salt when I glanced back at her, brushing carefully past two merchants who sat in the balcony of The Fire Rose Tavern, a place mainly frequented by the merchants and traders, sitting their in the low lamplight and red velvet curtains adorning the staircases and wooden pillars; a glass of scotch by their hand, a hand of cards or a copy of The Weekly Chimer, their brows furrowing in contempt as they read the paper and discarded it on the cluttered table with a look of disdain.
“So, you mean to tell me that you want to attack the stagecoach, impersonate Redway and Whyting,” I gestured to the bag at her waist that contained the Shrouds, a powerful piece of technology that the Fireflies had been lucky to get our hands on, and that allowed us to masquerade as any other person, “knock them out, lock them in the back of the steamcoach trunk and then waltz in to the Meeting, with a massive explosion going off behind us – you know, for dramatic effect?” Venice adjusted her cap on her head, a stray strand of a dark curl escaping and wisping at her neck before fixing me with a sardonic gaze, her eyebrow arched and toying with the fingers of her leather gloves. “If you want an explosion, go catch us some dynamite. Or,” she said with careful innocence, her hand brushing her jaw in thought before her bright eyes fixed upon me again, “we could not set everything on fire. What a grand idea!” she finished, her eyes and voice wide with sarcasm as she spun around to face me quickly before falling back into step next to me, and a gust of wind chilled me for a moment as a Covol flew low over us; his steady, high chime echoing above us before he disappeared into the junction of two bisecting roofs. I growled under my breath, brushing off the chill and shoving my hands in my pocket with a scowl distorting my features. “You never let me have any fun.”
We followed the steamcoach for a few moments more, watching it weave and clatter down Bracken Street; and I allowed myself to take another look around at the crowd milling all around me, a thousand different lies, a thousand different truths that made up the citizens lives. We passed a steamcoach livery, a few coaches chugging into the bays and mechanics scrambling to clamber inside and crawl under the coach, loud clanking and scraping sounds coming from underneath and a few lads fiddled with the wheels, pulling out vials of Vetrine oil and polishing the screws with a cloth and a dousing of said oil. It was the best thing to keep the steamcoach wheels running smoothly. They were the only vehicles that hadn’t crashed through the streets of Pendulum, scattering citizens and leaving stores and apartments in smithereens of ash and metal as people lay in heaps, rain pouring down as a mourning for them from the low hanging clouds. Instinctively, I pulled my coat tighter around myself, wrenching away from the thoughts of mangled metal and dripping water. “Tallion – they’re turning into the Allern Alley, just past the cobblers store,” she said lowly, her voice tingling with a mixture of excitement and nervousness as I watched the coach disappear into the fog that winded down Allern Alley, a single lamp post shining out onto the street and illuminating the swinging metal sign that dangled from the front of the Cobblers Store – Evans’ Buckles and Repairs was the name it donned – and I felt my heart escalate to the heavens and then drop swiftly to the core of the earth as we edged towards the opening of the alleyway, pressing against the wall and watching as it rumbled down the cobblestone alley that was lined with a muddy pathway, the wet mud splashing onto my trouser legs and boots. I noticed a split in the alley, separating it into two parallel blocks and I gestured to Venice with my chin towards it, and she gave me a dubious glance before we both slunk down it and I peered out with my hands clutching the cold stone wall, watching as the steamcoach continued. Looking down the nameless junction, I could see that if we followed it, it would circle back round to Allern Alley, as I could see another split junction separating it just up ahead, only a moment from when the steam coach would reach it, and I grabbed Venice’s arm.
“This split circles back around to another split junction in the alley – we can be fast enough to get there and ambush them from the side before they know what’s happening.” My voice urgent, low and hurried as we stood there in the drizzling rain, the clang from the mines and the tolling of the Clock tower, the chatter and yelling from the crowd distant and blurry through the fog, the people in the distance almost looking akin to swarming bees or a nest of ants as they trailed through the busy streets.
“Full of surprises today, aren’t we?” she said in a approving voice, looking sharply to the right with her hand around her pistol that she’d taken out from the confines of her coat pocket and instead hidden under the threadbare material of the chest, and then looked back at me with a spark in her eyes and a slow spreading smile on her face as we started to move down the alley, turning sharply to the right and then following it back around to come out in nearly the middle of Allern Alley, and I could feel my heart shuddering in my chest as I heard the clatter and hiss of the steam coach just to my right as we lay in the shadows, my finger fingering the trigger of my gun. We see the steamcoach emerge out of the fog, and the coachman sitting up the front with a wary gaze on his face, his dark hair slicked back with rain, his hands directing the coach with a series of shifting gear sticks that he pulls correctly to position and when he finally passes us, we exchanged a final glance in the shadows of the junction.
“We’re insane.” I said, a low chuckle in my throat accompanied by my frantically drumming heart and the hairs on my neck standing up as the familiar rush of adrenaline surged through my veins and made my eyes bright, and we made our way into the alley, grabbing the back of the coach and crawling around the side of it before I put my hand at the coach door.
“It’s in the job description.” That was the last coherent words I heard before I yanked the door of the coach open, scraping volatilely under my hands as it banged for a moment and then swiftly shut as I pulled myself inside, ignoring the startled screams of Lester and Redway; the coach warm and heady around me with soft lighting and velvet seats. My hand shook only slightly as I pulled the pistol out from the pocket and held it to Redway’s head, his breathing harsh and heavy as the steamcoach continued to clatter down the alleyway, the hissing of the steam and turning gears loud in my ears where I had been used to only the dull spatter of rain. Venice had her arm around Mrs. Whytings waist, and her chest was heaving erratically as she scrabbled at her with her claw like hands, and Venice’s face took on a pale sheen before she proceeded to knock her over the head with the pistol, making her crumple onto the seat, the folds of her gown filling almost the entire carriage and her head lulling to the side on the seat, her pale gloved hands still clutched around her purse. The tension in the coach was heavy, hanging around us and clouding our vision while our we breathed rapidly, chests rising and falling with each shudder and hiss of the clockwork under us. The velvet burnished seats brushed against my fingers, the seductive feeling of it adding to the feeling of the heavy clouds around us. Both Lester and Redway lay on the seats, eyes shut and fluttering slightly, their clothes rumpled and wrinkled from the struggle only moments earlier, and with shaking hands, I grabbed Mr. Redway’s arms, hauling him over the seats, his hands cold and clammy under my own, sending a rattle through my bones that tore at my lungs and sent my heart hurtling in my chest as I tried not to look at his face, pale and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his tie and waistcoat crumpled and a purple welt that had started to spread across his gaunt face from where I had clouted him; and his breath came heavy and wheezy as I pulled open the trunk of the steamcoach and pushed him inside with a low grunt, his body toppling inside and making a loud thud as he hit the bottom of trunk. Venice followed suit, her hands fumbling slightly with Mrs. Whytings elaborate costume as she struggled for a moment, her face turning red with exertion and a strand of hair slipping from under her cap as she pushed her into the trunk, both now very intimate travelling companions in the dark, claustrophobic trunk. They both lay there in the dark, their forms vaguely outlined in the shadows and the dim light spilling in from the street lamps outside, looking like bedraggled marionettes with limp strings and no puppet master. Venice slammed the trunk shut, the hollow sound of it shaking the trunk slightly and we both collapsed back onto the seats, adrenaline pouring through my veins as though it was a hedonistic wine and I took a deep sip from the intoxicating elixir; shutting my eyes and allowing it to spill through every crevice of me before opening my eyes. Venice glanced back at the shut trunk, taking a deep breath before letting out a satisfied smirk, her lip curling upwards and her eyes glinting as she made a few resolute taps on the wood.
“Sleep tight.” She let out a chuckle, adjusting her coat lapel and then reaching for the bag slumped on the seat next to us, opening the latch and pulling out the Shroud – a dull, metal machine that would let us impersonate Lester and Redway. Venice fiddled with it for a moment, her fingers switching buttons and flicking up switches with her eyes narrowed as the machine whirred to life, humming erratically under her movements. With a satisfied grunt, she glanced up at me, shadows carving into her face from the night sky outside, her eyes twinkling from underneath her cap as she leaned forward, holding the machine over her knees and pulled at my hand, placing it over the top of the blinking panel on the machine. “Ready to play dress up?” I gave her a good-natured wink, leaning forward so that we were both hovering over the machine, the metal cold under our fingers as the steamcoach continued its fated path down the dim lit roads of the clockwork city.
“I’m always ready to play.”
The steamcoach jolted, throwing us back into our seats; my head growing thick and fuzzy, the steamcoach swimming and blurring in front of my eyes for a moment before it cleared, and I leaned forward, my head in my hands and my eyes tightly shut as I struggled to command my stomach that was sloshing nauseously. I let out a groan before opening my eyes and blinking in shock as I saw Mrs. Whyting sitting opposite me, calm as you please, fiddling with the studded ruby necklace at her pale collarbones which jutted out from her bodice before giving a loud “humph.” My words became lodged in my throat before I realised that Venice was the imposter, dressed in Mrs. Whytings extravagant exterior; a strikingly dark cobalt blue dress with fringes of lace like delicate spider webs, an onyx belt with glinting silver and pewter buckles cinching in her waist, her sleeves pinned and tucked expertly so that they billowed out at the shoulders and gathered in at the wrists, altogether paired with a very disgusted look from Venice, her brow wrinkling and touching the skirt as if it were a can of tuna instead of a gown. Her face still had smudges of coal dust on it, a pale sheen of sweat covered her cheekbones and forehead and her now almost white hair matted under her cap like a ravenous bird nest.
“I like the chimney sweep look – really suits the gown. I’m sure you’ll get compliments.” I propped my foot up on my knee, grabbing the cane resting against the side of the door, the Covol resting upon it, its half open beak resting in between my gloved fingers as I snapped it up and caught it in my hand. Venice glared at me while she reached for her purse, snapping it open without breaking her gaze, her lashes casting spidery shadows against her cheekbones as her face turned from infuriated to smug in less than a moment.
“Oh, if only there was a clean, white shirt,” she started, looking up sorrowfully, her hand placed upon her chest delicately, with all the innocence of a young lamb before giving me a sardonic smile before casually adjusting the gossamer lace gloves on her hands, “with which to wipe my oh – so sooty face on.” She finished with a sly glance as she folded her hands innocently on her lap while I arched a brow at her, biting back my own grin before I reached into the unfamiliar coat I was wearing and came out with a snow-white handkerchief, which I handed to her with a flourish, tipping my hat at her in a teasing manner before she practically snatched it out of my fingers without so much as a thank you.
“Come now, my generosity knows no bounds.” I sniggered, wincing internally at the feeling of the foreign fabric encasing limbs that were no longer my own, looking down to see that my polished brown boots had been replaced by a pair of black leather boots that were glass like in reflection compared to my own, a pair of ebony trousers with a paisley pattern that I deemed far too elaborate for my tastes, but then again, I didn’t have spare Gunts to be throwing to the wind, now did I? Wine was the chosen shade for the jacket that restricted my movements, making me scowl as I adjusted the black trimming that rimmed the coat at the cufflinks and the neck, the material scratching at my neck while I straightened the velvet top hat that now sat perched on my head like a mildly startled bird. Venice looked at me with more than subtle amusement as I examined my outfit with disgust, my features distorting into a scowl and a pursed lip as I slouched in my seat, tapping my shoes restlessly against the floor of the coach.
“Not a word of this. To anyone.” I muttered, leaning back against the seat of the coach with my scowl still carved on my face, turning to look out the window into the foggy streets of Pendulum; the stores lit up with lanterns, glass windows thick with silhouettes of late night street roamers, loud laughter and clinking of glasses permeating the night air as street lamps lit up the roads, mist weaving around the posts as people marched up and down the streets, heads low and coats wrapped tight around them, cigars burning oily orange in the night air, sparking brightly as it lit up and then faded, a puff of smoke in its wake, the shout from late night washer women as we passed the factory lauder house, great billowing steam erupting from the brightly lit windows and water being sloshed out of high windows into the empty streets below, people ducking to avoid the streams of water as it splashed onto the cobblestones below. I was thrown out of my reverie by the shudder of the steamcoach, and I looked around wildly to see Venice hunched over the Shroud, her face now completely free of soot and her hair tumbling over her shoulders as she frantically fiddled with the knobs and switches, biting her lip in frustration as the coach gave another shudder, the vibrations ripping through the underside of the coach, my teeth rattling in my jaw and my head nearly hitting the top of the roof.
“Sparks – bloody aftershocks,” Venice muttered, flicking a few more switches, the lights it blinking furiously and another jolt ripping through the carriage and I clung on the handle just above the door, my arm jerking as the steamcoach shuddered in its path and then, confirming my fears, it came to a halt, braking harshly and the clockwork gears letting out a harsh hiss of steam, as if a serpent was living in the gears of the coach and I heard indistinct muttering and a clatter of boots on the road as the voice got louder. Venice tucked the Shroud under her, looking at me with a panicked look on her face, the blood leaving her cheeks as her eyes fluttered rapidly, worry eclipsing her iris’s and I quickly grabbed the cane, switching my seat so that we were both facing the door, my heart hammering as Venice suddenly made a mad grab for the sandalwood fan sitting on the seat I had just been on as the steamcoach door was yanked open and a face laced with displeasure stuck its hand inside the coach. His ears stuck out from under his carefully positioned hat, his eyes narrowed behind shimmering grey spectacles, his hair slicked back with equal parts grease and gel; the strong, chemical smell of it wafting through the coach making my nose wrinkle in distaste as the footman narrowed his eyes at us suspiciously, the amber lights of Pendulum glowing behind him.
“Is everything quite alright back here, Mr. Redway? Mrs. Whyting?” He said her name with a manner that was thick with disdain, his back becoming stiffer as he leant away from her and I couldn’t help but silently sit back in amusement as Venice smiled demurely and opened the fan with a snap, flourishing it in front of her face, brushing it over her cheekbones as if she was the lamp and the fan was the moth. I arch my brows subtly at her act, but she ignores me and proceeds to flutter her lashes at Walter, who clearly is not amused by her vain attempts at seduction.
“Oh, yes – of course…uh,” Venice trails off uncertainly, waving her fan absentmindedly as she widens her eyes, blinking up at him innocently.
“Walter.” He gave a condescending sniff, backing out of the steamcoach and then slamming the door loudly, causing the coach to rattle and I can hear more indistinct muttering as the coach shakes slightly when he resumes his seat and then with a lurch, we rattle forward again, moving faster this time, the cobblestones under us sounding like beating hailstones; and I give Venice a sly glance before tapping the seat with my cane. “Oh, yes, Walter,” I imitate her in a high pitched fluttery tone, batting my lashes at her while she looks at me with tangible disgust, snapping her fan open and shut threateningly at me, “Everything’s quite alright. Do you like my fan? I stole it off the real Mrs. Whyting who is currently locked in the trunk back here! Isn’t that excite – “ Venice cuts me off by whacking me with the fan and yanking my tie so that it comes loose, and I adjust it, tightening it while giving her a good – natured wink, which results in another whack on the arm with said fan, but I can see the glint in her eyes which gives away her amusement and she leans back on the seat with a loud sigh, tapping her fingers nervously on the seat next to me and I grab her hand, giving it a squeeze.
“Don’t worry - we’ve got this.” I look her in the eyes, obsidian shadows that wrinkle with nervous tension as she distractedly fiddles with the necklace at her collarbone, giving a determined nod as she pressed her lips together.
“We’re the Fireflies.” Her voice came out loud, echoing in the silky air around us as moonlight spilled through the windows, bathing the seats in a misty haze, the low lights in the steamcoach flickering around us, crackling softly in the silent air that is only broken by the muted clatter of the wheels and the low hiss of the coach under us. I closed my eyes for a moment, the light only pricking faintly under my eyelids as I allowed the constant rise and fall of the coach to lull me for a moment.
Pendulum was a hive, the citizens of this grinding city worker bees, living only to serve the wants of the Queen. She was there merely to oversee the hive, put the bees to work, to keep them in place. Did the bees sometimes whisper to each other in the six cornered holes of their hexagon hive, their wings fluttering as they contemplated rebellion, to revolt against the Queen bee and reclaim themselves, to rise to the skies and take to the flowers, becoming their own rulers in a field of roses and lilies, sweetness luring them to the petals that they might make their home? Or perhaps they were oblivious to the fact that they were being ruled, that the Queen was perhaps not as benevolent as they might want to make her out to be; that her golden and onyx coat might hide a heart of soiled gold, burning at the edges as she flew through the hive with honey seeping through the crevices in the hive as the bees flew silently from flower to flower, never protesting, never questioning her harsh rule until they were nothing more than drones. Born to serve. Dying without feeling the sky on their wings, wings tearing under chains of bondage of hive and gold, never knowing the taste of the nectar without the acrid taste of slavery biting at them. I clenched my hand around my cane, leather tightening against my hands as I made my vow.
I would see the Queen bleed.

domain: artistic


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Pemi Aguda writes short stories and flash fiction. We have published her before, and now she returns with another touching story entitled “Help Jimi Help Himself”. Her stories have appeared online and off – in literary journals and anthologies. Her short story “Caterer, Caterer” won the 2015 Writivism Short Story Prize; published in Munyori Journal and the Roses for Betty anthology.
Help Jimi Help Himself
You crack the door open and the room turns silent. You push the door wider to find them all staring at you. Your eyes find the ground; and then you lift them back up- to the familiar downturn of your father’s lips. They etch a sad curve in his wrinkled face and his eyes look straight into you, assuring you of the part you have played in carving happiness out of his face.
“Good evening,” you say as your knees lower to rest on the thinning green rug. This position reminds you of younger years and scolding and punishment and oh, the childish eloquence when defending your little brother. These old feelings have found you kneeling again in your father’s house and they stir again in your chest, twenty years later – because you know Jimi is the reason they have called you. Read the full story here.


Towers is in his first season as general manager of the Arizona Diamondbacks, who are a few games better in the standings than the struggling Padres. The teams opened a three-game series Friday night.
Towers spent more than two decades in the Padres' organization, the last 14 as GM before being fired by CEO Jeff Moorad. Moorad said he wanted a GM with a more strategic approach than Towers' shoot-from-the-hip manner. At the time, Moorad referred to Towers as a "gunslinger."
Never one for formality, Towers was wearing jeans and cowboy boots when he met with reporters in the Diamondbacks' dugout.
"That was strategically thought out today, to wear the cowboy boots," Towers cracked.
The Padres won four division titles and reached one World Series under Towers.
He's taken over a Diamondbacks team that finished last in the NL West last year at 65-97.
"I'm the same KT as I was when I was here. I haven't really changed much. I'm going to approach the job in Arizona as I did here in San Diego," Towers said. "I'll give it everything I have and surround myself with good people to help me in the decision-making process and hopefully the outcome will be a positive one."
Towers thinks the Diamondbacks-Padres rivalry might get a little more lively, given the number of people who've moved from one city to the other.
Moorad ran the Diamondbacks before buying the Padres before the 2009 season. Former Diamondbacks GM Josh Byrnes and manager A.J. Hinch both work in the Padres' front office. Byrnes and Hinch were both fired by the Diamondbacks on July 1.
Towers still remembers when Padres catcher Ben Davis bunted for a hit in May 2001 when Curt Schilling was five outs shy of a perfect game, angering the Diamondbacks.
"I think there's still a rivalry," Towers said. "I'll never forget when Ben Davis bunted, trying to win a ballgame. A lot of individuals that are now here in San Diego were in Arizona, and there's a few of us now in Arizona who were in San Diego. I would imagine probably a little bit more of a rivalry will develop just because of the people that have traded places."
Towers said there's no bitterness about his firing.
"It was a tremendous run. You know, 25 years with the organization, as a player, as a scout, as a pitching coach, as a scouting director, as a GM, I mean, I wore several hats here and enjoyed wearing all of them," he said. "I worked with some great people here over the years, I had some great bosses and some great managers. I was blessed to have as long a run as I had and I enjoyed it while it lasted.
"I'm proud to be a Zonie out in Arizona and really like where I'm at now and the people I work with now, and hopefully we can have some success over there as we had here in the mid-90s and late-90s," Towers said.
"They're good people. Although at 7 o'clock tonight, I want to beat them," Towers said.


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BASEBALL: Connecticut's Top 25 players for the 2013 season
?Charles Ameer (Weston), P/SS, Sr.: Can hit in the low 90's with his fastball and will play at St. John's.
?Shawn Blake (Fairfield Prep), 1B, Jr.: Blake bats in the middle of a very strong hitting team.
?Matt Blandino (Bristol Central), P, Jr.: Hits 90 with his fastball, making his curveball that much harder to hit. He showed that last season, pitching a no-hitter and striking out 16 against Maloney. He will play at Central Connecticut State University and could be selected in June's MLB draft.
?Michael Concato (Amity), P, Sr.: Concato went 11-2 with 108 strikeouts and a 0.61 ERA last season. Now the Brown University-bound senior looks to lead his team to its first Class LL title since 2007.
?Mike Conti (Glastonbury), SS, Sr.: Headed to play at Fairfield University.
?Ben Criscuolo (Xavier), P, Sr.: Will play at Southern New Hampshire next season.
?Manny Cruz (Wolcott), P/IF, Sr.: Batted .503 with 28 RBIs, four home runs and went 6-0 on the mound. Has also committed to play at Southern New Hampshire.
?Kyle Dube (St. Paul), P/3B, Sr.: Last season he had a .381 batting average, 32 hits and a 1.98 ERA. Next season, Dube will take his upper 80's fastball to Fairfield University.
?Griffin Garabedian (Notre Dame-West Haven), OF, Sr.: Has committed to play for the University of Connecticut. Last season, he batted .403, drove in 15 runs, scored 18 runs and stole 12 bases.
?Marvin Gorgas (East Hampton), P/SS, Jr.: Throws in the 90s and is getting recruited at both positions.
?Aaron Hill (Fitch), IF, Sr.: The senior led his team to the Class L championship last season before falling to New Canaan with a .395 batting average, 21 runs, 19 RBIs and 11 stolen bases. He will play at the University of Connecticut next year.
?Nick Lamberti (East Haven), IF/OF, Jr.: He hit .505 with 16 stolen bases last season and is getting recruited by UConn, Rhode Island and Fairfield.
? Tom Milone (Masuk), OF, Sr.: He was an early oral commitment to UConn and could be selected in the MLB draft in June.
?Sam Nepiarsky (Amity), P, Sr.: Has a mid-80s fastball and is committed to UConn.
?Will Rios (St. Bernard), P, So.: Has already made a oral commitment to the University of Maryland.
?Ron Rossomando (Bunnell), P, So.: Hits in the upper 80s with the fastball and is coming back from broken collarbone suffered during football season.
? Teddy Shaw (Southington), SS, Sr.: Will play at Sacred Heart next season.
?Cameron Stone (West Haven), P, Sr.: Committed to play at Stony Brook.
?Ryan Testani (Shelton), P, Sr.: Testani was a key component in Shelton's Class LL state championship last year with a 9-3 record, 1.31 ERA and 15 RBIs at the plate. Has committed to play at Seton Hall.
? Joe Zanghi (Foran), C, Sr.: He threw out 12 base runners and added 14 RBIs and two home runs in a stellar 2012 season. He has committed to play at UConn.

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