Not me. Usually I couldn’t care less, but every now and then I took setbacks as a personal affront, swearing an oath of vengeance against the object of my anger.
Actually, that sounds familiar… I concentrated on the Hero awareness I’d been gifted a little while ago and soon found out why.
The Zone: 10% chance to compete a task to as close to perfection as possible despite the relative usefulness of said task.
Well, that explains a lot at least.
The Zone saw to it that I was still sitting there almost four hours later with a crick in my neck and a screaming back. When I tapped my watch to stir up the pixie dust inside, I could see that it was creeping toward sunset.
Patch had been humming to herself for a while, but when she stopped, sighed and started in again on the same tune for the billionth time I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Just admit it,” I said, glancing over from where I sat hunched over the strings of LEDs. “You’re bored. There’s no shame in it.”
She shrugged. “Not bored, really. I can just think of a lot of other things I’d rather be doing, that’s all.”
“That’s the textbook definition of boredom, Patch.” I pointed at the catatonic Gearblin still sawing logs as she came over to sit beside me. “It’s not so much fun to be the noble knight when your charge sleeps through the whole rescue, is it?”
“Not in the least,” she admitted. “Hand me some lights and I’ll help. The quicker we get it untangled, the sooner one of us can do a little exploring.”
I laughed. “Too late. You had your chance, but you wanted to solve ‘The Mystery of the Comatose Corpse’. Now that LARPing as Columbo has turned tiresome, you want to quit.”
“Who’s Columbo?”
I sighed. “Fox Mulder, then.”
“Nope.”
Talking to her was exhausting, sometimes. “Kim Possible?”
“Are these all references to something? I think they are, and I bet they’re old. You’re old, Raze.”
I frowned. “We’re basically the same age. Mother Mayeye just liked to watch the VHS stuff that came out of the Rift, that’s all. My point is that you wanted to solve a mystery, so go solve it. How did part of this jerk’s flask get in that capsule?”
“Do you know?” she asked, hopefully. “And can you give me a hint?”
“I have no idea. All I know is that Illgott could never get into it to replace the prizes, which was fine because nobody ever won anything until you did.”
That got her thinking, which bought me some silence. The two of us worked on the LEDs in companionable quiet for a while, our chore punctuated by the stranger’s orchestra of grunts, burps, and farts.
Once the knots were finally untied, I divided the LEDs between us. “You keep trying to work on your cold case and stay here with this pile of lights. Don’t do anything dumb, and don’t wake him up if you can help it.”
“What if he wakes up on his own?”
“Normally I’d be worried, but now that you’re a Hero you can kick his ass the same way you did mine.”
“I don’t want to hurt a friend!”
I held up the string of LEDs in one hand and pointed at my pair of black eyes with the other. “Come again?”
She giggled. “Well, you deserved those.”
“Just like you deserve to sit here and watch over sleeping beauty here while I go and poke around.”
And try and work out exactly how panicked we should be.
“Fine. But why do I have to babysit him while you get all the fun of exploring.”
“Because you’re the one that thinks he’s worth helping. If you want to leave him here, that’s fine by me.”
She made a pained face. “No, that wouldn’t be right. Damn it.”
“You’re a good person, Patch.”
“Thanks!”
“It wasn’t a compliment. And be careful if he does come around. I know he can’t hurt you, but he won’t know that. Gearblin always throw down eventually. These tunnels and caves may feel expansive right now, but if this guy turns out to be belligerent the place is going to feel real small, real fast. We might have to think of building a cage for him, or something.”
I didn’t tell her that ‘or something’ was code for beating him to death.
The drunk snorted, and for a second I was sure he was going to wake up. When he didn’t, I lowered my voice and tried to reassure Patch. “Look, I’m just trying to be careful. I’ve got no idea how long we’ll be down here, and I’d rather not crowd him. Why start off on the wrong foot with what might turn out to be our only neighbor?”
When I saw her bottom lip tremble I knew I’d said the wrong thing. “Wait, what? Are we trapped down here?”
Hadn’t she worked that out? “Maybe?”
“We can’t be! I left the oven on and there’s nobody to feed my goldfish!”
I didn’t need her to get frantic. “I can’t say for certain until we try and map the place out.” Personally, I thought the answer was obvious, but there was no point in having this conversation yet, especially if the only thing it’d do was crash Patch’s mood.
She sighed. “I suppose our new friend probably wouldn’t live like this if he didn’t have to.”
I was just about to reply when a low, electronically amplified voice rumbled, “‘Course I *shhtuck*ing would. We are trapped down ‘ere, girlie. I promise ya dat.” His gas mask had shot a line of static across the cuss word’s bow and robbed us of his profanity, an act that didn’t surprise him in the least.
He heaved himself to his feet with considerable effort, pressing one meaty hand to the side of his head. The old geezer was a fearsome sight, his stark mohawk and menacing gas mask capping off a scarred, pockmarked face that would’ve made him the perfect villain in one of Mother Mayeye’s stories.
He was probably the strongest, ugliest Gearblin I’d ever seen, twice as wide as me. I’d be lucky if I came up to his shoulder, and for a second I forgot I was a Hero as I reminded myself not to pick fights you couldn’t win.
“Hi!” Patch shouted, showing way more enthusiasm than this tunnel had seen in a thousand years, judging by the look of the place. Her crystal-clear voice was aimed right at him, charged with an energy and pitched at an octave he wasn’t ready for. “I’m Patch! Who are you?”
He clapped both of his palms over his ears so hard that his eyes bulged. Her words echoed down past him to the blocked tunnel at his back and then bounced back, outflanking him just as he thought it was safe to bare his eardrums again.
“Quit dat *shtuck*ing racket, Eyepatch.”
She didn’t miss a beat, bless her. “Rude, but I’m happy to forgive you. I guess you don’t get a lot of visitors down here, do you? I ask because I’m getting a sort of ‘crazy hermit’ vibe and I was wond-”
“Fer *shhht*uck’s sake, shut yer trap.”
“Not going to happen,” she said, hopping to her feet. “In fact, I think you and Raze and I should be BFFs. I’ve got so many questions, and I’m sure you’ve got some of your own. How about we find a place to sit and ch-”
He looked woozy as he wobbled on unsteady legs, staggering backward before overcompensating and, arms wheeling for balance, falling flat on his face.
Patch leapt to his side, but I finally scrambled to my feet and
Contested Friskiness Roll
Raze’s Friskiness Modifier: +2
Roll: 16 + 2 = 18
Patch’s Friskiness Modifier: 0
Roll: 9
Result: Raze Success
grabbed her wrist. The tipsy Gearblin was getting up slowly, and I crossed my fingers that the Hero thing was permanent. If it faded away, this imposing newcomer’s big, calloused hands could easily smash our faces in or choke our lives out.
The look in his bloodshot eyes as he got back up didn’t do anything to put me at ease, either. He was riled up and, Hero or not, that had me worried.
Patch either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She strained against me, eager to make sure
he was okay.
Contested Power Roll
Raze’s Power Modifier: 0
Roll: 14
Patch’s Power Modifier: -1
Roll: 12 - 1 = 11
Result: Raze Success
The drunk was bellowing at us. “Ya worthless *shht*ucks are lookin’ ta steal my baby, ain’t ya?”
“Never!” Patch shouted.
“Maybe,” I said. “Can we see it, first?”
He scowled. “No.”
“Raze!”
“Relax,” I told her. “I don’t know what he’s talking about, but he doesn’t mean an actual child.”
He nodded furiously, not a hair in his mohawk drifting out of place as he did so. “True dat. Are ya lookin’ fer loot, den?”
I wrinkled my nose and made a point of sweeping my gaze across both him and the piles of trash that surrounded us. “Why would we waste our time? There’s clearly nothing good in here, present company included.”
“Be nice,” Patch demanded, turning to him. “Look new guy, let’s start over. We were standing on top of the mountain. Raze was dreaming of arson, and then we fell through some sort of chimney.”
He grunted. “Flue,” he said.
“No, I got vaccinated a few months ago. Found a sick kid who had it bad and rubbed our faces together real hard. I even made sure to stick my tongue out, so I think I’m immune.”
He glared at her, his gas mask hissing like Vader for a couple of seconds while he breathed harder. “Not ‘flu’. ‘Flue’. If it’s designed ta vent exhaust gas, it’s a flue.”
The eye not covered by her patch fluttered rapidly. “Oh. Well, whatever it is, we fell down it.”
“Ya fell?”
“Yep.”
“Does anybody know yer down ‘ere?”
“Nope…”
I was expecting him to get angry at her, which meant I was unprepared for the crestfallen expression that descended on his features. There was a bandoleer of glass vials strapped across his barrel chest, and even though most of them were empty he pawed at them anyway.
A few still held glowing liquids of various colors and he plucked one of them free, ripping out the cork and jerking his gas mask to one side.
I winced when I saw how badly scarred his lips and nose were. He noticed my reaction, but all he did was let out a little snort of derision as he tipped the contents of the smoggy vial down his gullet in one practiced toss of his head.
“Can I have some?” Patch asked.
He ignored her, replacing the cork and then the vial and tightening the mask back into place with the tug of a leather strap once he was done. I’d thought I’d seen vapor escape the vessel when he’d drunk from it, and now I watched in fascination as a few wisps of haze curled lazily from his ears. “Ahhhhh,” he said, his voice long and low and incredibly eerie due to the gas mask’s electrical distortion. “Dat’s da stuff.”
He froze, glancing down at himself. For a second I thought he’d worked out that she’d replaced the stopper, but instead he shoved his hands deep into his pockets.
“Everything okay?” Patch asked.
“Gotta be ‘ere,” he muttered, ignoring her. “Can’t ‘ave lost it!”
He’d gone all Gollum, and him finally finding a silver ring amongst the folds of his clothes, stroking it gently, and then stowing it away again sure didn’t help.
“Um,” I swapped glances with Patch, “how long have you been down here?” I said, trying to drag him back to the land of useful Q and A before his curious behavior and whatever that foul crap he’d just imbibed wrestled his mind into submission again.
“No way ta keep track. Anyway, don’t know an’ don’t care.” He burped, and the mask shifted the noise into something like a low roar as it pumped and cleansed and filtered. Even so, I saw light flare within the vents and a couple of sparks sputter off and bounce down his torso to the floor. “It’s dark, boyo. ‘Ventually I stopped tryin’. So will you, if ya know what’s good for ya.” He looked at Patch. “Dat one won’t.”
“You’re right about that,” she agreed. “What’s your name? I’m already sick of mentally calling you ‘new guy’.”
He winced, eyeing her suspiciously. “Don’t got one.”
“Liar,” I said.
He scowled at me with rancor. The look robbed me of my confidence, and I took a step back. “Left da last one lyin’ ‘round somewhere. Names don’t matter. You can be boyo, and she’ll be girlie.”
“Whatever you say,” Patch agreed, before I could protest. “Will you show us around, though?”
He thought about it. “S’pose dere’s no harm in it. Gotta warn ya first dat we’re bingo on fuel, bingo on food, bingo on hope, and bingo on real booze.”
Patch smiled warmly. “I think we’re going to call you Bingo. Is that okay?”
To my surprise his eyes crinkled up as if he’d just given her a passably wistful smile beneath the mask. “You know what, girlie? I like dat.”
“Bingo it is,” Patch said.
Achievement Unlocked:
Ice Breaker
Welcome to the Crew!
Reward: From now on, all Members of the crew will split the experience points they earn equally amongst themselves.
A computerized voice from somewhere far, far up the tunnel we’d already come down announced, “At last! Welcome to Rule of Cool’s training simulation. You three have been handpicked to take part in our Crew Member Training Program, and your completion of the first part of our official team building workshop proves that we have selected the right candidates for the job. In recognition, each of you have been awarded the Ice Breaker achievement. Please join me to receive a list of upcoming tasks.”
“Is that new?” Patch asked.
But Bingo was already on the move, headed in the direction of the voice. “I gotta score ta settle wit’ dis *shtuck*er. You two wait here while I dismantle da *shhh*it outta it.”
Chapter 11
I grabbed as many of the LED strands as I could as Patch picked up the rest. Bingo was already weaving wildly up the tunnel in the direction of the voice. Even though he was sloshed, I could tell by his path that he was familiar with the placement of every piece of trash on the hillocks of debris.
Between his knowledge of the terrain and his drunken fearlessness, Patch and I were going to have trouble keeping up with him.
“Bingo,” she called after him. “Wait for us!”
He had no intention of listening, and I saw that there was a very real chance he might get away from us.
We couldn’t let that happen. I still didn’t know if he was an actual ally or not, but I’d much rather keep an eye on him than wonder where he was lurking. The LEDs were tangling Patch and I both up, and I was already carrying most of them anyway. “You go,” I told her, taking the rest of them and pushing her on ahead. “I’ll bring all of this.”
She nodded her thanks and put her head down, using the light I was carrying to follow a well-worn path through the garbage. It was like an animal’s trail through the undergrowth, exactly as wide as Bingo’s robustness.
Patch was already gaining on him, and I worked hard to keep her in my sights.
It had been dark when we’d come through here before, but now that it was lit up I saw just how many forks and splits we’d blundered past on the way to find the source of the snoring.
I was starting to lag behind, and a couple of times I came to a new branch of the tunnel and only just caught a glimpse of Patch as she vanished around a corner of the cavernous pipeline we were charging through.
She wasn’t burdened by the snarled accumulation of LEDs, which made her faster than I was. That much was clear even before
Friskiness Roll
Friskiness Modifier: +2
Roll: 3 + 2 = 5
Result: Failure
a stray loop of the lights managed to work their way free from my grasp and tighten around my legs, sending me sprawling face-first into a pile of sharp-edged tuna cans.
Machine-Sharpened Metal
Damage: 1
Damage Type: Physical (Cutting Edge)
Ongoing Effect: What Smells Like Fish? – The substance coating the weapon contains foul odors and important Omega-3s. While the aroma may not affect you, most races will treat you as if you have 1 level of reputation less than you do until the stink is removed.
Resistance: N/A
Hit Point Loss: 1
Hit Points Remaining: 7
“Even for us, this guy’s a pig,” I muttered, feeling a few lines of blood already creeping from the cuts on my cheeks and forehead. “What gives him the right to litter up my mountain?” No matter how fast I got up, by the time I worked out what direction they’d been heading, both of them had disappeared.
I did make out a faint blue glow up ahead though, and when I picked my way closer to it I heard the voice again as it bounced around the corner at me. “Why are there only two of you, now? I’m sorry, but we explicitly requested a crew of three. Please don’t return until the third member of your induction class is ready. Remember, there’s no ‘you’ in Team Building!”
“Yes there is,” I told it as I marched around the corner, still trying to hang on to the trailing LEDs and wipe blood out of my eyes at the same time. “Anyway, now we’re three again. Happy?”
The walls of the room in front of me were crammed with huge flat screens, while the middle had a bunch of ‘mission control’ style workstations equipped with bright monitors, mechanical keyboards, microphones on stalks and wheelie chairs.
Better yet, everything here was Gearblin-sized.
Patch and Bingo were just ahead of me, basking in the glow pouring off the screens. There was nothing useful displayed on any of them, but at least they were powered on and operational.
The lights got brighter, and all of the surfaces sparkled. This room hadn’t been defiled, and Bingo looked like he couldn’t wait to rectify that.
Know Your Roll Page 11
