More people than Kai knew existed. And almost all of them Post. Post or Luddite—one couldn’t tell in Channel City. Posts and Luddites alike in carriages and on horseback and wearing fancy clothes. Sometimes he couldn’t even define their caste after meeting them, for here in Channel City, Posts and Luddites alike had long names and surnames, quoted books and poetry, donned jewelry and perfume and bright colors. He’d never seen such bright colors outside of flowers and sunsets. And here, people wore them. Clothes were how he found his first job. Right there, in the window of a tailor’s shop, sat a sign. Mechanic Wanted. Wary of Jin’s warning about giving too much information about himself to strangers, he walked in, hands deep in pockets, and asked if they were looking for any workers. “Why?” A girl in the corner tittered. “Do you sew?” He did, as it happened, but he wasn’t great at it. “Sorry, son,” said the man in the front, who Kai quickly guessed was in charge.
