We are close enough now that the driver has activated the loudspeakers: Ohhh, myyy love, my darling, I’ve hungered for your touch ...
It is time; there’s a riot of clicks and ca-c****s as everyone primes their muskets, pressurizes their masks. I double check my grip reservoir (crucial in the event one gets separated from their tank): it is full.
And time ... goes by ... so slowly ...
I notice a few disconnect their arm hoses—Malachi, Ishmael, Artemas—against regulation but a favorite hack, for it allows the musket to be switched from hand to hand or spun like a wheel from its ring lever. The problem is that witches have been known to use telekinesis to snatch the weapons away—that and the fact that the grip has limited capacity and reseating it can take precious seconds.
And then we ar
