by Tao Wong
From what I can tell in my minimap, we’re in the middle of a suburban residential neighborhood. A rich neighborhood, with the way the grounds are spaced out. No apartments here, stacking people, one signal on top of another.
“Open up, Saimon. I know you’re in there,” Ayuri calls.
“You do know this is late at night, right?” I say.
Not that late—the alien planet equivalent of nine in the evening. But late enough. Especially if the two dots being placed right on top of one another when we arrived is anything to go by.
“Go away, Ayuri!” The voice that calls out is rather short of breath. And a little muffled. It’s somewhat high-pitched, but not feminine necessarily. Or at least, not what I’d consider feminine for the Erethrans.
“No. Come out, Saimon.”
“He’s busy, Champion.” Another voice, quite deep and not at all amused.
“Oh, you’re there too, Lord Braxton?” Ayuri’s grin widens. “Perfect. Now, come out or I’ll come in. Ten seconds.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Saimon shouts. But I hear scrambling from within.
“She would. You know she would,” Lord Braxton mutters. If not for my enhanced Perception, there’d be no way for me to hear him. Then again, he probably knows that. “Ever since you broke up with her, she’s been on the warpath.”
I raise an eyebrow at Ayuri, who crosses her arms.
“It’s not like that,” she says.
“Uh huh.”
“Ten!” Ayuri counts down, even if the count is only, like, four or five. She slaps her hand on the access panel, not that she needs to activate it. But I get the feeling she’s doing it because she wants to. “Here I come.”
The first sight to greet me is a tall, slim figure. I catch sight of small breasts on a muscular torso being covered by the closing touch-zip of a jumpsuit. As my eyes track upward, they meet pursed, full lips and green eyes. Shoulder-length hair frames delicate cheekbones, but there’s a masculine jut to the jaw and in the sweep of coral ears. I blink, thrown off by the conflicting information.
Saimon Calicus, Seeker of Truth, Ten Thousand Audits, Golden Reviewer, Slayer of Goblins (Forensic Accountant Level 41) (M)
HP: 980/980
MP: 2780/2780
Conditions: Forensic View, Auditors Authority, Eyes of the Scales
“Why are you bothering me, Yuri?” Saimon snaps, smoothing out the lay of his jumpsuit, his voice the more feminine one.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I interrupt you? Maybe sleeping with another husband?” Ayuri retorts. “And don’t call me that. You don’t get to anymore.”
Lord Braxton is lounging, one slim, toned, hairless leg thrown outside of the cream blankets. The other leg—and other important bits—is covered by the silk sheet. His chest is bare—hairless, as well, but toned in the way an office worker who hits the gym once in a while might look. Not a pure fighter then, at least not by his physique. His Status confirms it too.
Lord Leral Braxton, Baron of Unsqe, Houndmaster, Royal Aide,… (Galactic Steward Level 38) (M)
HP: 860/860
MP: 1520/1520
Conditions: Bestial Instincts, Strength of the Pack, Distributed Pain, Enhanced Senses, On the Hunt, Engorged
“My partners are more than aware of Saimon,” Lord Braxton says with a low drawl. “In fact, we’re discussing adding him to our triad.”
“Well, isn’t that nice of you. Doing it the right way.” Ayuri’s voice drips venom as she glares at Saimon.
I listen at first, then try to trigger a Blink Step. It fails, of course, but the swirl of Mana around me is enough to draw the attention of all three. Even the pain of the failed Blink Step is less than that of listening to the lovers’ tiff.
“Don’t you dare move, Paladin,” Ayuri snaps. “You’re the reason I’m here.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s your hurt feelings that brought us here, dear,” Ali offers helpfully. He’s floated into the room, idly eying the occupants and the furnishings. More the half-dressed Braxton than the furnishings. “But don’t worry, we aren’t holding it against you. Not that boy-o here knows how to handle his relationships any better.”
“You wanted finances. And Saimon here is the Minister of Finance.” Ayuri waves at the man/woman/herm/another alien or System combination that might make my head hurt. “If you need a budget, Paladin, you’ll need to talk to him. And since Lord Braxton is here, he can take over dealing with you.”
“I’d prefer—” I begin.
“I don’t care. I’m the Champion of the Erethran Empire, not your personal servant. If you have questions, you can talk to these two. I’ve got better things to do.”
“Like visiting schools and bothering your ex?” Ali says.
Ayuri punches out with a fist, dismissing the Spirit with a push of power. It’s such a smooth execution of energy that Ali goes pop without me even being able to do anything. Then, before I can bitch about it, she disappears, Blink Stepping away.
“Uhh…” I scratch my head, looking at the empty spot then at the pair of bemused lovers. “So. That happened.”
***
“Thank you.” I sip on the Galactic equivalent of coffee, rotating the drink in my hand. Unfortunately, unlike real coffee, this drink is more sour and bitter than dark and smooth.
Still, production of coffee in the strength required to affect Adventurers is lagging behind. Earth has more important things to do, and even the few producers there are have only managed to get their beans to affect those in the low hundreds of Constitution. That doesn’t even include my own Resistance to poisons. Basically, it’ll be years, if not decades, before I can actually enjoy coffee for its effects again. Though I still keep a couple of bags around for the taste.
“So. You and the Champion.” I raise a single eyebrow, doing my best not to smirk. “You’re a lot braver than I am.”
“We were cadets together, many years ago. We’ve been on and off since then,” Saimon says before he shrugs. “I wanted something a little more permanent. She didn’t. But when I started seeing others, she objected. Said I was betraying her.”
Society’s Web tells me there’s more to this discussion. More to the twisted thread between it and Ayuri, glistening brown and red. There’s another thread, this one golden and red, that leads between him and Lord Braxton. And Braxton himself has more of those golden-red threads—two others. I know what those mean, love and passion, twisted with expectation. But Braxton has others, brown-gray, knotted with ties that lead to him, dozens of them. Duties, obligations, loyalty—almost all one-sided. A touch of my mind, and I know they’re for his hounds. It doesn’t take much more than a question to Ali to clarify what they are. Not actual animals – not anymore – but spies, saboteurs and assassins.
I debate asking more but decide I really don’t need to know the interpersonal drama among the individuals in the Erethran government. I’m here for another reason entirely.
“Credits,” I say. “Was she lying?”
“No. In fact, I’m probably the best person to discuss this with. As you know, the Paladins have been a foundational pillar of the Empire for many years. Because of that, they’ve had a large budget assigned to the institution and upkeep of their services.” Saimon pauses, visibly thinking about what he wants to say next.
Lord Braxton leans forward, his own cup kept warm in his hands. Behind him, the bedroom that we haven’t left is displayed, hints of their dalliance still visible and fragrant. I’d have preferred to have moved to someplace less intimate, but they haven’t suggested a move. I’m not sure if it’s an Erethran thing or just a damn the Champion thing.
“What Saimon is trying, and failing, to say is that your budget is currently being used by others,” Lord Braxton says.
“Others?” I’m getting a dreadful feeling here, one that says that Ayuri’s sudden actions might have more to do with these “others” than wanting to get back at her ex-lover.
“You must understand, even if the budget se
t aside for aiding the Paladins was not significant compared to the military budget, it was still a massive amount in totality. After a decade, it was decided that we could do better things with the funds than letting them collect untouched.” Saimon’s fingers run around the cup as it thinks. “In the end, a directive was passed and the budget was allocated to a variety of other individuals.”
“And now? Now that I’m back? Now that the Paladins are returning?”
“Many will not be happy. There are corporations and planets that rely on the additional budget to stay afloat,” Lord Braxton says. “The trading to determine where the budget goes every year is a major mainstay of the current political climate.”
“Great.” I shake my head, discarding the idea that I really want to get involved in that. Instead… “Look. I really don’t care. I just want you guys to find me enough funds to pay for the initiates’ Skills and equipment.”
I send them the documentation, the long list of Skills and the Credits that we require. I might have tacked on a few more Credits for myself, just because. But not a lot.
Their reaction is quite interesting, for they skim through everything, looking not so much at the individual Skill information or equipment requests, but instead the Credit amount at the end.
“Is that it?” Saimon says.
“For now. I’d prefer to have access to a lot more than that, especially as I expect we’ll be fine-tuning some of these requests as we go along,” I say.
I know asking for tens of millions of credits is a bit much. But they’re also asking me to raise a bunch of Paladin initiates. Without the right Skill sets, without the right training, they’ll probably just die. I expect they’d rather we get this right than waste my time and their lives.
“Oh, it’s not that,” Saimon says. He glances at Lord Braxton, who chuckles as well. They gesture at the final amount. “This is actually significantly less than we expected. I could free up that much from the Queen’s petty cash easily. Returning the funds to there would be a little more difficult, but not impossible. In fact, we should still have the majority of this amount in the revolving discretionary account.”
I blink at the pair of administrators. And then I realize, once again, how big the difference is between a single individual like me and the Empire. Even if I’d thought I’d adjusted my idea of what was considered a “high” amount, I obviously hadn’t adjusted it enough. They might not have the strength of an individual Legendary, but when you have millions and millions of people contributing to your tax base, tens of millions of Credits is nothing.
“Well, once you release the discretionary funds, start working on getting back the rest of the budget. In the meantime, make sure my people get trained. That means real trainers with the right Skills.” I grimace as a thought strikes. “Once they start buying Master Class Skills, I expect that the expenses will increase again.”
“Of course, of course.” Lord Braxton waves his hands sideways. “In the meantime, if you’re looking for specific equipment that you need to purchase, I ask that you send the requests to me beforehand. I already see a number of requests in here that I can replace with similar and cheaper, or similar and better, equipment. Through our mercantile contacts, that is.”
“Fair enough.”
We’d gotten the quotes from the Shop itself, knowing that that would likely be the most expensive manner of getting what we need. If they can find ways of cutting corners without cutting quality, I have no objections. We’ll need our budget in as best a state that it can be, for once they do become real Paladins, the System will allow them to purchase Master Class Skills. Still…
“Why do the Paladins need so many funds?”
“For much of the time during their presence, many of the Credits used by the Paladins were for bribes, restitution, and replacement costs for things destroyed. Unfortunately, our Paladins were well known for their disregard for property and individuals in the pursuit of justice,” Saimon says, his lips turning down slightly. “In addition, the bureaucracy required to deal with the fallout was significant. Especially when some of our Paladins journeyed to other empires and kingdoms.”
I grunted. It’s one thing for me to play Bounty Hunter and kill bad people on other planets or kingdoms. Anyone I annoyed could track me down, but they didn’t really have a lot they could do other than killing me or placing a secondary bounty on my head. On the other hand, when you’re representing an entire Empire, the Empire can’t really run away from responsibility as much. I’m kind of glad that a bureaucracy has grown up to deal with the fallout, leaving the Paladins to do what I do best.
“Good to know. Who do I talk to about beginning to staff the Paladin’s bureacracy again?”
“Do you expect to need such help soon?” Lord Braxton looks a bit worried.
“Not yet. I’m planning for the future. No point getting my initiates trained up as Paladins and leaving them without backup. I expect it’ll take a while to find the right people. Best to get started soon.”
Lord Braxton and Saimon share a relieved look before Braxton adds, “Well, it’s nice to work with someone who’s thinking ahead. We’ll need at least a few months.”
“And the funds?”
“I will get her Majesty’s approval tomorrow and you should have access soon after. The rest of it…” Saimon hesitates then shrugs. “That might take longer.”
“Just get it done.” I down the last of their drink and stand, nodding to them both. “I look forward to hearing from you.”
“One thing,” Lord Braxton speaks up, his gaze focused on me. Even seated, they aren’t much shorter than I am. Almost reminds me of the decades I spent being the short guy in Canada. “Will you be open to meeting those who might be affected?” When I frown, he hastily adds, “You are asking for a change to a System that has worked for decades. Surely you can spare a few minutes to talk to those affected.”
Suspicion gnaws at my instincts and my eyes narrow. “And who might those be?”
“Members of the noble houses. A few Guild leaders. Corporate tycoons.” When I continue to frown, he adds, “Viscountess Purple March.”
“Ahhh…” I breathe the word and almost decide to turn him down. But then I remember my real job. The choice I’ll have to make. And I realize at some point, I’ll have to meet her. “Fine. Set it up.”
I get a relieved smile from Lord Braxton, but the primal, sensuous image I had has crumbled, disappeared under the cold dash of reality. No one, not at this level, is just one thing. They’re all political animals of some stripe. And it seems I’ve found where one of the alliances lie.
After that, it’s just a few more kind words before the pair shows me out. And then, the very long wait for an automated vehicle to bring me back to the palace. Annoying, but it does give me time to think. I’m not sure if Ayuri really meant to drop me off with them to annoy her ex-lover or if she’s playing a deeper game. I get the feeling there’s little bit of both in there. A way for her to introduce me to the players without being too upfront. But setting up the Paladins is slowly looking more and more complex.
At least I should be able to pick up a few new toys though.
Chapter 8
The floating aircar I rest within is both more and less wondrous than I could ever imagine. It floats soundlessly, cutting through the atmosphere at hundreds of kilometers a second, the G forces entirely canceled out by anti-gravity tech. At the same time, the insides are no different than any car I’ve been in. Indulgent, soft-as-a-cloud seats, arm, and leg rests add to the luxury, but it’s still a car interior. There’s no steering wheel and even fewer controls for the vehicle itself. Most of the vehicle’s operation is done by the AI traffic control system and the backup, semi-sentient AI within the car itself.
I sit in silence for a time, watching the ground pass by. Twinkling lights for buildings and individuals, the occasional flare of magic and beam weaponry opening fire on the monsters that press against the edges of civilization. Not many indiv
idual flying armor suits at this time of night, all the good citizens of the Empire tucked away in bed. Even so, the push against the monsters is ongoing.
The planet of Pauhiri might not be a Dungeon World, but it lies quite a distance away from the Galactic edge, relatively close to the Forbidden Zone. And because of that, the overflow of Mana has seen the increased birth of monsters. They pop into existence constantly outside the Safe Zones, at the edges of the cities and emplaced positions, ready to attack, to kill and Level. And they’re just as quickly dealt with by the citizens of the Empire, ensuring the civilians of Pauhiri are safe.
Except…
It’s a bad idea. A bad plan. As history, as false memory tells me all too easily.
… has shown that the creation of natural dungeons are an important Mana-cleansing method of the System. The birth of dungeons and the monsters within them allow a higher flow-through of ambient Mana, such that the System is able to catalogue, cleanse, and divert the Mana to low ambient Mana environments.
Based upon these findings, it is recommended that monsters—in particular, Alpha monsters—be allowed to be birthed in non-Dungeon Worlds and, furthermore, be cultivated to higher Levels before their deaths. Their development will lower the environmental Mana amounts in the region (see charts 128.3, 128.4 and statistic tables in appendix 128 for further detail), increasing System-planet viability timelines.
It is further hypothesized that the abandonment of planets near the Forbidden Zone at the earliest period will see a decrease in viability period of neighboring planets. (See the Ofelia and Ums Cases by Hed & Zaritskaya). Initial indications are that the outflow from the Forbidden Zone has seen a decreased timeline for System planet viability.
