Gathering Strength

by Aaron Jay

  “Please. Whatever you think of me--there is still something dangerous happening. I did know James. He was a good man. Someone needs to do something.”

  “I am a private citizen, GM Pulling. Lilith has been out there meddling with things she shouldn’t for a long time now. Her solutions are too… final for me. Go.”

  “I see I have made a mess of this. But what am I supposed to do? There are a handful of us in the Tower… maybe naive. Maybe not cynical enough. There are problems. Real problems that are beyond me. Beyond us. You yourself told me that my bosses aren’t any help. You are right. But I’m trying, Numitor Boone. At least I’m trying. You mentioned I’m a young woman. Emphasis on the young. What am I supposed to do about this world you handed to us?”

  She turned to me. Now I was of interest to her.

  “You have to get him to help me,” she begged.

  I could see that her emotional outburst was making my father distinctly uncomfortable. For almost as long as I have known him, he has had no patience for anyone else’s feelings except mine and my mother’s. He found them frustrating to be around. We young men really are stupid and useful to young women. For reasons that probably had to do with a few million years of evolution, I put the conversation back on a footing that my father might engage with.

  “Do you have a theory of what happened to this Eggbert fellow? Who is Lilith?” I asked. Asking my father to give a theory is one sure way to draw him back into a conversation.

  He knew that I was managing him. Despite this he settled back into his chair. He closed his eyes for a minute and then sat up.

  “A theory, hmm. My best guess is a form of osmosis. The barrier is designed to sort and separate nano. Feral on one side. Tamed on our side. If you had grown up in the old days, you may have had the cruel childhood pleasure of pouring salt onto a slug. Osmosis draws the water out of the slug. The poor creatures seem to melt as the water inside of them streams out in an impossible hope of equalizing the water and salt content on both sides of its cell walls. Our poor Mr. Eggbert is our slug. The barrier began sorting nano from feral to tame. Whatever he had gotten from Lilith was feral enough that, well, that what happened to him happened. A theory not a fact, but the mostly likely scenario given the data you gave me.”

  Turning to me he continued. “Lilith has an establishment called Pitts Web Design. You’re old enough that I’ll assume you may have heard of it. If not, GM Pulling can fill you in. It should make for an awkward enough conversation that I will be glad to miss it. Lilith… A brilliant woman. Idealistic. Dangerous – not that there is much difference between the two,” he stated including Pulling in his description. “If my theory is correct then we are not looking at an incursion. This matter is of no interest to me. GM, I will offer no advice on how to proceed in any of your quests. Quixote must tilt at windmills but I am not obliged to give jousting tips. Goodbye.”

  He raised his bulk and walked towards the door to the hallway. He stopped and turned to me before he left.

  “It would be pleasant, Miles if you came to visit me without being compelled by dangerous forces. I realize that Maya Eastman has put you in something of a scheduling bind. Still, I miss you. You will always be welcome. Try to choose your companions wisely.”

  All parents can deploy guilt. In this way my father was as conventional as any.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ArchE saw GM Pulling and me out to the street. We walked along for a bit. In just a few more blocks we’d have to split up as my apartment was in a different direction. The Game beckoned. These few hours where I thought the barrier was likely to fall and we were all going to die had helped me forget my impending slavery. It is all how you look at things. My glass was half full. I asked her the question I had been holding back since my father had mentioned it.

  “So, despite the warning that it will be awkward, what are the Pitts?”

  She looked at me.

  “Ha ha,” she said, clearly not believing me.

  “Really. I don’t know.”

  She laughed and then blushed. She studied me to make sure I was telling the truth about my ignorance.

  “It’s where some people go to, you know…” she trailed off and I realized she was never going to finish her sentence.

  “No, I don’t know. That is why I asked.”

  “What kind of young man are you?”

  My father was correct. This really was feeling awkward. He would have hated it. I wasn’t enjoying it much either.

  “The ignorant kind. So, you going to tell me, or what?”

  “The Pitts offers you know… services.”

  “Services? You know, whatever the Pitts are, I’m pretty sure that you just telling me straight out has to be less awkward than all this dancing around,” I said.

  “Adult programs and scenarios and umm mods. Harem, Bondage, Vanilla - any and all fantasies as dark as you can imagine. Mods to your well - to your everything. Whatever you are into, the Pitts will help you do it. How is it possible that you never heard of it?”

  I had been wrong: just telling me straight out could make this more awkward. It wasn’t necessarily that the first person who hadn’t been trying to kill or imprison me in months was an attractive woman who was telling me about an uber sex pavilion. It was that she thought I was some sort of weirdo for not knowing what it was. Somehow, she had me feeling like both a pervert and a clueless naif at the same time.

  “Oh. Well, I had a bit of an odd upbringing. My father often assumes people know things they don’t, so there were holes in what I learned from him. Then when I moved out--well, Jude Sandoval was about my only friend. We were pretty focused on training. He had Maya as a girlfriend… My dad used to tell me about a friend of his who had never seen Star Wars Episode IV. Now I know how that guy felt.”

  “What is Star Wars?” Pulling asked.

  “What? Seriously?” I asked dumbfounded.

  Before the troubles, Star Wars was as close as we had to a common story we all were familiar with. People were so desperate for some shared stories and cultural touchstones they all made sure to see every Star Wars offering. My father says that part of why the whole world burned was because we had a culture that somehow had Jar Jar Binks at its center.

  “Now you know how it feels not to know something ‘everyone’ knows,” she said, laughing over having jerked my chain. So, she wasn’t completely culturally illiterate. If familiarity with Star Wars makes you culturally literate.

  “So, Lilith runs the place?”

  “Pitt’s Web and Daemon design. They have pod stations and centers just like the GMs do. Seriously, how did you manage not to know about it? The ads are all over most of the entertainment packages in the pods.”

  “Well, my dad is beyond careful about what connections and data he allows in his home. And, well, you know as well as anyone that I spent no nano on anything unnecessary. Remember when you locked me up while you confirmed that? I didn’t even use it for medical reasons.”

  She had the grace to feel embarrassed. Why should I be the only one feeling awkward?

  “Well Sir Galahad, if you win your bet with Maya it will be because your strength is as the strength of ten as your heart is pure. Honestly, stay away from the Pitts,” she said. And then she went on as if trained to regurgitate this, “The Party and the GMs are, of course, sex positive and we celebrate and endorse any and all sexual choices. What players want to do with their free nano is up to consenting adults.” Then back in her real tone of voice, “But Lilith is powerful. She provides things for some very powerful people. And I have no idea what happened to Eggbert.”

  I had to make a right to head back to my apartment.

  “You going to be a regular at my station?” GM Pulling asked.

  “I hope not. I can’t afford the transit time or giving the Eastmans the opportunity to pull something on one of these dark streets. No, I’m going to do my best to sneak back into my home and crawl into my pod and not come out until the bet is won or,
I guess, lost.”

  “Oh, ok. That makes sense. You want me to walk you back to your apartment?”

  “What?”

  “I’m a GM. I don’t think anyone will try to pull anything if you are with me.”

  My heart may have been pure, but I did have a moment where her offer to come over to my place had been misunderstood.

  I thought the angles over. Sneaking back into my apartment unnoticed would be the ideal situation. Walking around with someone dressed in black and white stripes was as subtle as sneaking in riding a zebra. If I went alone and made it in undetected then I could play until I ran out of foodpacks, the Eastmans none the wiser. But if Maya was keeping a watch on my place, my chances of getting inside unseen were near impossible.

  “Thanks. I’ll take you up on the offer.”

  So, instead of splitting up, GM Pulling escorted me to my apartment building.

  The old place looked exactly as it had when I last saw it, which felt like a few dozen years ago. I was starting to feel like having a GM along was the wrong call. The front of the building was free of observers, as was the lobby. We got in the elevator and took it up to my floor. The sound of the doors opening seemed loud in my ears. We stepped out into the hallway. The hall to my door was clear. I had just begun to relax when I looked in the other direction. There was Aabid. Last time I had seen him he was being killed by a kobold chieftain. It was actually the second time I had caused him to be killed by a kobold. Somehow, he had looked better then. Now he looked sweaty and disheveled. His dark eyes looked wild, which was disturbing since no kobold was clawing at him to explain it. His black hair made a haystack.

  “Aabid. You’re looking… hmmm. Aabid. Hope you are well,” I said.

  “Miles. I’ve been waiting for you,” he grated.

  “Yes. I think I see that. Hard feelings? You came at me. We played the Game. Jude around? You waiting for me under orders from the Eastmans?”

  “The Eastmans? Hah! I’ve been blackballed, Miles. But all your shit didn’t stick to Jude. He moved into an Eastman arcology. Guess I should have been giving it to Maya. Though I don’t think that is how that other GM got a nice gig out of it all. Nope. I’m the only one who got screwed, Miles. The only one.”

  “Sorry to hear that. Actually, I’m not. What can I do for you, Aabid?” I said evenly.

  His wild eyes stopped attempting to bore holes through me for just long enough to flicker to the GM standing beside me.

  “Nothing right now, I guess,” he grated out.

  I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise up. Aabid looking for some payback on his own account shouldn’t make him any more dangerous to me than him doing it on Maya’s orders. But somehow, I was more wary of him now.

  Pulling was standing in a ready but somehow non-threatening stance.

  “Player Aabid Pritchard, right? I know who you are. The GMs know who you are. Maybe you should move along. Player Boone. Please enter your apartment.”

  “You sure?” I asked.

  “Yes. I think your presence isn’t helping,” she told me.

  She was right. I gave her a short nod and let my apartment recognize me. Aabid was barely keeping himself under control, and me being around wasn’t helping with that. Young women have used men to kill things that needed killing for millions of years. Young men have used women to negotiate and diffuse violent situations for just as long. She and I, and also likely Aabid too, would be better off if I got out of his sight.

  “I’ll be seeing you, Miles,” his voice followed me into my apartment as I slipped inside. I listened at the door to hear if Pulling was going to be in any real trouble. She must have been able to talk him down. After a minute I heard the elevator open and close. I gave it another minute and then quickly poked my head outside. The hallway was clear.

  Sighing, I took in my apartment. Same as it ever was. I was looking forward to getting back into the game where things may have wanted to kill me but the deadly intent wasn’t so personal.

  First, I needed some sleep if I could manage it. I thought I’d have trouble falling asleep worrying that Aabid, Jude, Maya or who knows who else would come calling. My bed’s familiar smell and my utter exhaustion won out over my problems. Before I knew it, I knew no more. Waking up about seven hours later I ate a quick meal, did my business and was ready.

  The telltales on my pod were all green. I got inside.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The feathery touch of vinegar’s smell

  The warm ringing of the colors in a peach

  I saw the taste of dark bitter coffee

  With a wrenching shift my senses realigned and I was back in.

  At my feet were the remains of the Gray Wall Jumper. Most of the pieces had been reabsorbed by the game but some faint traces of the corpse marked my spot. Remus had wandered off but I knew he would sense my return and turn up before too much longer. Not that he seemed able to offer more than moral support.

  I held a crappy sword that had been a trash loot from my time in the mine. My Bracers of the Elements that I got off Aabid back when the Eastman’s dumped me in the mines added a bit of water damage. I made sure my spell ring was loaded with more magic missiles. I was as ready to start hunting as I could be.

  Quickly, I decided to make my way up one side of the canyon then come back down to the valley floor and then see what the other side of the valley held. It was large enough that to completely explore the place would likely take me at least a week. Without access to a full smithy or alchemy lab, speedy collection rather than refining and crafting was my best bet for the Gathering Quest. It’s underappreciated how a lack of options simplifies things.

  Gravity and the loose scree and dirt of the valley sides made progress toward the top of he canyon a constant struggle. Ten steps forward would have me slip two or three steps down towards the valley floor. So, every few minutes I’d need to scramble back up.

  At first I didn’t see much of worth, but slowly the local knowledge skills I got from Maddie the Bruja started coming into play. I started finding young seedlings of things like butterfly weed, Mormon tea, and gumweed. I kept one eye above me at the sheer cliff face that closed in on the valley. My vigilance was rewarded as another Gray Wall Jumper came at me. I unleashed my magic missile and quickly collected another set of remains for my quest. A bit of meditation and a few ritualistic yoga contortions and my spell ring was reloaded.

  It was a beautiful day to scramble along the rocky valley. Killing monsters felt pretty amazing. Exploring an unknown and fantastic land filled with danger and wonders hits pretty much every fundamental human drive evolution bequeathed to us. I had work that was important to me and meaningful. This was the life that had drawn me into the Game despite my father’s advice.

  As I explored I was trying to make some time estimates. Math is the language of truth. You can only lie with math if the other person doesn’t speak it as well as you do. The value of the spider remains cost me 33 minutes in meditation and spell storing. The value of the seedlings I could locate in the same amount of time was about half of what I made off of one spider. The math was pretty straightforward, but brutal nonetheless. Rounding in my favor gave me .00375% every thirty minutes. I wasn’t making exactly that rate of collection, but it was a useful estimate. Divide the 100% I needed to complete the quest by .00375 and it would take me 26,666.6 Gray Wall Jumpers to finish the quest off. Kill two Gray Wall Jumpers an hour and it would only take me 13,333.3 hours to finish the quest. So, only 555 and a half days. This was assuming that I could play twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week for months. If I managed this impossibility I’d miss the deadline by almost an entire year. I wondered how many people throughout the ages failed to realize that they were in a no-win situation because they never bothered to do some math.

  As arithmetic laid out my doom I didn’t stop grinding. But I have to admit, a lot of the fun I had been having dried up and blew away. I managed to start accruing some points toward Herbalism and Local
Knowledge. Given enough time, this would increase my herb gathering efficiency. But I doubted it would happen quickly enough to greatly improve my finish time for the quest, let alone with enough time to knock out the remaining ones.

  Ok. I’m in a life or death race for my freedom and I haven’t found the route that will let me win the race. But, I just started to explore the valley. Now I know that I can’t just grind this low-level stuff and succeed. Therefore, each new area and unexplored item was a possible holy grail. As long as there were higher level mobs and mats the math should shift--as long as I didn’t die. Some of the joy I had felt came back, tempered by a new realism.

  I found a bit of Full Grown wild licorice.

  Full Grown herbs were worth a lot more than the seedlings I had been gathering. The strata of herbs went Seed, Seedlings, Young, Full Grown, Mature or that rarest of rare, Ancient Herbs. More potent herbs were all findable if your herbalism skill was high enough and you knew where to look.

  Risk and reward are linked. Just finding older, more potent herbs wasn’t the whole trick. As plants matured they would start developing symbiotic relationships with monsters who protected them. The older the plant, the stronger the mobs attached. Truly old, rare or powerful plants might themselves become dangerous monsters.

  This is why I should not have been surprised when I heard a hiss and a pit-bull sized lizard thing with a turtle shell shook itself free from the dirt, rocks and sand. It leapt to defend its plant.