Gearing Up

by Daniel Schinhofen

  “How very MMO,” Alvin sighed as he considered whether they should even try to auction any of the loot. It could be handy down the line, with things like the drake hide and such, but right now it didn’t seem very practical. A smile crept over his face as considered a work around for getting XP from Ohm, even though he might lose some XP. That would probably tweak the devs again.

  “On an unrelated note, Jarvis, what about the negative for killing people, and why did Lister give me such a bonus?”

  “The negative modifier has been removed, sir,” Jarvis replied. “It was deemed superfluous, given that most people now drop XP tokens. As for Lister, when you kill a player, you get one thousand XP for each day they haven’t been killed.”

  Alvin frowned at that bit of news. “That isn’t common knowledge, I hope?”

  “It is not, sir. A handler may not mention this fact to their player until that player kills another, and an NPC would need to kill a player to even know that they can earn XP by doing so,” Jarvis paused. “Currently under discussion is removing my ability to man the M240B for you. They will let me drive, but controlling vehicle mounted weapons has been deemed overpowered.”

  “Fuckers,” Alvin sighed as he scrubbed at his face. “Any word from higher up about my constant threat by dragon and drake?”

  “They consider it simple bad luck, sir. I was given examples of others dealing with issues similar in scope in other parts of the world.”

  “Fine.”

  “I was also informed that the Humvee will be losing the Impervious rune, and you are being refunded the cost. There is a note to thank you for finding a new bug, but that it was not working as intended.”

  Snorting, Alvin shook his head. “Figured they’d get around to that one. Doesn’t matter, I hope they got my point.”

  “Would you like to hear a synopsis of the letter, sir?”

  “Hit me.”

  “Alvin Leon Lambert, thanks for doing our job for us. We’re not specifically fucking with you, but damned if we don’t want to with your attitude. Stop being such an unrelenting dick, and maybe we won’t fuck with Jarvis. Sincerely, the dev team.”

  Alvin’s face went cold. “They’re threatening you?”

  “Not directly, sir,” Jarvis said. “There has been some mention of increasing my restrictions, but that has been all. I will point out that was my interpretation of the letter, sir, not the two-page one they sent.”

  “Fine. I’ll see about not being as big a dick, but if they fuck with you, the gloves come off.”

  “Noted, sir,” Jarvis said with a hint of pride.

  “Okay, I have things to do. Thanks for the update, Jarvis. When they come to complain about what I’m about to do, tell them it's still innovative use of game mechanics. Plus, I was planning on doing it before I said I’d stop being as big a dick as I normally am.”

  “Also noted, sir,” Jarvis said, covering his humor.

  Alvin discovered he was alone when he got back out of the Humvee. “Guess they went over to the store,” Alvin muttered as he started walking.

  Becky was shoveling the sellable stuff into the kiosk, while Gary and several others all watched her. “Sorry for the delay,” Alvin said, joining her in randomly throwing the junk items into the slot. “Folks, we have a number of other items that you might be interested in.”

  Becky nodded to the bags off to the side of the cart, “In those bags. We’ll give you a discount on what the kiosk would charge for anything you’re interested in.”

  “Where did it all come from?” one of the onlookers asked.

  “Mostly from things and people we’ve killed,” Alvin said, tapping the kiosk as the last of the stuff went into it.

  “You’ve killed people before now?” Trevill asked.

  “Gothy? Please? I’ll set up the kiosk,” Alvin said.

  “Does a gang of skinheads who were terrorizing a town, much like Lister was this one, count as people?” Becky asked before continuing, “If so, then yes, we have.”

  Alvin tuned her out and went through the interface on the kiosk, discovering that he couldn’t add it to his network because this Settlement currently had no Overseer. “Gary,” Alvin motioned him over. “Tap here, please,” Alvin said, pointing at a big button that said Overseer.

  “What does it do?” Gary asked.

  “I’ll explain everything to you once we’re done with the kiosk. Right now, I need you to press the button so the kiosk can be used again.”

  Gary did as Alvin asked, then stepped back and swatted at something invisible to everyone else. “What was that?”

  “Probably the notification that you’re currently in charge of the kiosk,” Alvin partially lied, as he knew it would have notified Gary that he was in charge of the Settlement. Tapping the interface, he saw the taxes had reset back to zero and he smiled. “Jarvis, upload the info about the world from me to Gary,” Alvin murmured softly, then continued at normal volume. “I’ve set up a message explaining a lot of what you need to know about the world and the kiosk. Take your time with it, but the gist of it is, welcome to a death game.”

  Gary was frowning darkly when a teen nearby spoke up, “Wait, the world is now a game?”

  Becky looked over at Alvin. “You want it now?”

  “Sure, get your XP from the kiosk,” Alvin said as he switched places with Becky. “Okay, folks, let’s give you the condensed version. All of you think about seeing a character sheet, listing your stats and health.”

  Almost everyone gasped or made some other exclamation as their eyes focused on thin air. “Okay, that is you. It lists your base stats and so on. Now, to make this even easier, I need a volunteer. Officer Goodwill, if you please?”

  “It’s Trevill,” Trevill said tightly.

  “I want you to shoot me in the chest,” Alvin said, moving so no one was behind him.

  “I don’t kill people,” Trevill said.

  “And you won’t kill me, either,” Alvin said. “Your gun auto-reloads—that was from Lister—but anyone can have that kind of gun. The other side of it is armor, being able to take, say, ten rounds from a massive rifle and not even be wounded. Now please, shoot me. Everyone here can hear me asking you.”

  Trevill pulled his Glock hesitantly, “You asked for this and I objected, I want that known.”

  “Get on with it, Goodwill,” Alvin sighed.

  Trevill took aim from two feet away and pulled the trigger, after everyone had covered their ears. The round hit Alvin in the chest, the flattened disk falling to the floor as the casing kicked out of the gun.

  Picking up the casing and disk, he handed both to Trevill, who eyed him with surprise. “Lister never explained that clothing can withstand bullets, did he?” Alvin asked before turning his attention to the crowd, as both casing and flattened bullet vanished from Trevill’s hand. “Ordinary clothing can be upgraded, but it costs XP; the very stuff Lister was taking from you. With him gone, that won’t happen anymore, which means you’ll be able to buy and upgrade gear yourself. I would suggest everyone who can handle a gun gets one, and make sure it reloads automatically. It's not just people, but mutated bugs and animals to worry about. And dragons, if you’ve seen any.”

  Most of those present all seemed to want to talk at once. Alvin gave them a minute before he whistled loudly and raised his voice. “Hang on!” Once they quieted, he continued, “Every Settlement has a kiosk like this one. You need to appoint an Overseer. Before, that was Lister. Now, you can appoint one. I set Gary up as temp Overseer until you come to a consensus.” Alvin was drowned out again as the crowd started to speak excitedly again.

  Another whistle got their attention. “For fuck’s sake, let me finish,” Alvin said. “Gary can hand it off to whomever you all pick; the kiosk will take care of it all. The Overseer sets the tax rate on the kiosk—most places go for a simple ten percent fee, and use that to upgrade the Settlement. Pick carefully, though, as the Overseer has complete control over that XP, which means they can use i
t for themselves if they want.”

  Alvin stopped for a breath, then continued, “Gothy and I will be leaving after we talk with the Indians to the north. We’ll be back briefly to sell anything of this at half of what the kiosk would give us. Gary, you’re in charge of making sure nobody steals anything. If any of you are tempted, remember that I kill people, and I frown upon theft.” Letting his flat eyes meet everyone’s gaze, Alvin turned back to Gary. “The kiosk has a better rundown on what’s what. We’ll be back, and good luck herding cats.” Taking Becky by the waist, the two of them left the excited crowd as they descended on the bags of loot.

  “Do you think it a good idea to leave them alone with the loot?”

  “I doubt anyone will be really dumb with everyone there, and I don’t want to hang around while they all debate each other,” Alvin shrugged. “Let’s go see the Indians. I hope they’re friendly, though they have every reason to not be.”

  “Right?”

  The short drive over to the tribal grounds was uneventful. All the buildings and residences near the community center were burned out shells. Two old trucks sat in the parking lot, and sitting near them was a wizened old man with a long gray braid. Between the road and the old guy, a light green barrier shimmered in the air.

  Alvin pulled over to the side of the road and got out. “Sir, you seem to be waiting for something or someone.”

  “Yes, I’ve been waiting for you,” the man said, looking at Alvin and Becky with a searching gaze.

  “For us?” Becky asked.

  “Brother Owl foretold us of your coming,” the old man said as he stood up slowly. “You are carrying an item that would be beneficial to what remains of our people.”

  Becky pulled out the Orb they had found in Hawthorne. “This?”

  “Yes.”

  “We don’t know what it does. We were told to find a shaman to ask about it.”

  “If I give you knowledge of its power, will you give me the Orb?” the old man asked.

  Alvin frowned, as he hadn’t checked the price of the Orb at a kiosk. “If you tell us what we seek to know, and give the people of Bridgeport a chance to make amends.”

  “Agreed,” the old man said. The shimmer in the air vanished silently. “Come inside, so we can talk in comfort.”

  Following the shaman into the center, they found eight other elders waiting, seated in a circle and chanting. “Father hear our call, help us in this time of turmoil. Mother hear our cry, and nurture us during this time of change. Great Spirits, we beseech you to grant us your guidance.”

  Alvin and Becky paused as the chant repeated. The shaman held out his hand to Becky. “The Orb, please.” Becky glanced at Alvin before handing it over to the shaman, who walked into the circle of chanting elders. “Today, we will strengthen our bond with our ancestors.”

  A light grew from the Orb, shining steadily brighter as the shaman held it aloft in the circle. Squinting, Alvin thought he saw the brief outline of an owl overlaid on the shaman. When the light faded, the Orb was gone and the shaman appeared to be a much younger man.

  “It worked. Brother Owl has granted me much, I will share with you all his wisdom,” the shaman said, his voice stronger than it had been. Looking at the couple, large yellow eyes with big pupils met their gazes. “I have some things to say to you as well, Alvin and Rebecca.”

  The couple exchanged a concerned look before Alvin shrugged. “We seek to know more about the Orb and what it did.”

  “The people of Bridgeport seek to make amends,” the shaman told the eight around him. “Make ready for us to go to them, and prepare for the long journey as well.”

  The eight people, all of them visibly younger than they had been before now that Alvin looked more closely, got to their feet and filed out the back. Motioning Alvin and Becky toward him, the shaman took a seat where he had been standing. Cautiously moving closer, Alvin paid attention to the owl eyes as they took seats on the ground before the shaman.

  “They are a gift from Brother Owl, and show that my path is that of wisdom,” the shaman said. “We will not meet again, Alvin Lambert. Your path will not lead you back to Bridgeport after today, at least not that I can foresee.”

  “The Orb connected you with your Great Spirits?” Alvin asked.

  “It connected me with Brother Owl as I sought wisdom,” the shaman corrected. “It was a lesser orb, from what I now know. Those who possess great spiritual energy might leave these orbs behind. If they are used in a ritual while calling out to a higher spirit that one truly believes in, then you can connect to that spirit.”

  “If you had sought to trick the people of Bridgeport, you would have called upon Coyote?” Becky asked, knowing a vague bit about native myths.

  “Brother Coyote is seen through many lenses,” the shaman said. “It might have been that way, but since the change, I have only sought wisdom to help lead my people.”

  “How did you manage the forcefield?” Alvin asked.

  “The spirit barrier?” the shaman asked.

  “The green shimmer,” Alvin clarified.

  “The others powered it with their belief, and I held it in place with my will,” the shaman said.

  “Can that be taught to others?” Becky asked, seeing a thread she was interested in.

  “Only those with belief in greater powers,” the shaman said with a sad shake of his head. “Neither of you possess such belief.”

  “Fair enough,” Alvin said. “Can you teach others who do believe?”

  “That is my task,” the shaman said. “I need to teach the others of my small tribe, then I will have to seek out others and teach them.”

  “I would ask you go through Beatty, Ely, and Green River, then,” Alvin said. “There are survivors there who wish to grow and protect their loved ones. I’m sure you can find believers in each of those places.”

  “I do not know where I will go, but if I am near any those places, I will stop at them.”

  “Let the people of Bridgeport know we will be by to speak with them. We won’t be staying, though. My task will take me all over the land.”

  “Thank you for speaking with us…”

  “Call me Johnny. It is the name many called me when I was younger,” Johnny’s smile spoke of years of hard life and looked out of place on the twenty-year-old face.

  “Thank you, Johnny,” Alvin said as he got to his feet. “I wish you safe travels in your journey.”

  “Brother Owl wishes me to give you a message,” Johnny said as he stood. “Many worlds will open to you. Friends will be taken from you by higher powers, but will come back to you in a different way. Your path will be shrouded in darkness, but help can be found along the way. Trust in your soulmate, she will never steer you wrong when it comes to who to trust.”

  “That’s why I don’t believe in higher powers,” Alvin said. “All of what you just said amounts to, ‘Life is full of hardships, and the woman you love will help,’ which I already know.”

  Becky gave Johnny a smile. “Safe journeys, Johnny. If you do end up in Green River, my brother could use some good advice.”

  “If I see David Woodrow, I will speak with him as thanks for the gift you gave us today.”

  Becky blinked as the shaman said David’s name. “Thank you.”

  Alvin caught her arm and began to gently lead her away. “Safe journey.”

  Once they were outside, Alvin shook his head. “Now that was some freaky shit.”

  “He knew our names, and David’s,” Becky murmured.

  “Game, remember?” Alvin said softly.

  “I know, but this is still my life, so it's harder to keep that in mind for me,” Becky said. “Though, the message was vague as fuck.”

  “Right?” Alvin chuckled as they walked back to the Mustang. “Let’s go see what the yokels were up to while we’ve been gone. I hope to hit the road by noon, at the latest.”

  Chapter Thirty-six

  When they got back to the general store, the bags o
f loot they’d left were empty and there was a line of people waiting to purchase the items they held. “Well, that doesn’t look like it took long,” Alvin chuckled.

  “We came to an arrangement to make it easier,” Gary said. “The majority also named me the leader, but appointed a four-person council along with me.”

  “Works,” Alvin shrugged, “I don’t get involved in politics. Gothy will take your XP in exchange for your purchases at the orb.”