by Tao Wong
“Glad he’s doing okay,” I say.
“He’s a good man.” Miller’s lip twitches slightly as he spots my hesitation. “And the president is doing the best job he can. But he was underplaying how tough things are. He’s spending as much time talking to those within the union as those who aren’t, all to keep us together and out of a civil war.”
I nod slowly, grimacing. “Anything I can do to help?”
Miller chuckles. “No. In fact, it’s best if you stay out of it entirely. Having a Canadian come in and save our asses—well, it hurt more than a few egos.”
“Okay,” I say, clapping Miller on the shoulder. “But if you need me to send down some polar bears and maple syrup, just let me know.”
Miller rolls his eyes, stopping at the entrance hallway. “I will. And John, be careful about the kind of deals you make. Ikael… he worries me.”
I offer one last nod as we reach the designated teleportation zone where the quantum locks around the settlement ease. As I look back after casting my Skill, I see Miller frowning and lost in thought already.
In my office, I flop down in my chair and put my feet on the desk, grateful that Katherine has given me back my old office. She’s moved to the office next door, leaving me alone to stare at the wood-paneled interior.
“What do you think, Ali?”
The Spirit lets himself appear, floating backward at a forty-five degree angle. He’s still in his traditional orange jumpsuit, though he can conjure almost anything else. But really, jumpsuit, mankini, or plate armor, it all shares the same defense rating for the Spirit, so it’s just a matter of convenience and looks. “About what?”
“The meeting. You think he’d be someone worth backing?”
“Doesn’t matter what I think. Can you get others to back him?” Ali says with a snort. “Or can you get the others who back Rob to back someone else? Way the votes played out, he got most of your first world countries to vote for him, at least those who were voting for anyone not themselves.”
I grimace, nodding. Ikael drew his support from around the African, Middle Eastern, and South American settlements, as well as a wide range of single-city settlements. Bipasha basically had southeast Asia and the Indian subcontinent. Outside of China and Siberia, which had mostly done their own thing. Most of Russia and eastern Europe had split their votes between themselves and Ikael, while Australia had lost so many of their settlements that they weren’t even worth talking about.
“Eh, you humans are strange. Still clinging to your old concepts of countries and nations, to old grudges,” Ali says with a shrug. “The vast majority of the people who had any say over things before are dead. But you’re all still complaining about Western domination and oppression, about shaking off colonial ties. As if you aren’t being colonized by Galactics right this second.”
I chuckle, mostly because if I don’t laugh at it, I’d have to cry. The Spirit isn’t wrong. But I can see everyone else’s concerns. It’s not as if the States and the other western powers hadn’t used a very heavy hand for a very long time to keep other countries in check. It was only in the last few decades that the other countries were pulling themselves together.
Now, in many ways, the sheer population numbers and an arguably better ability to cope with the change has led to a higher number of surviving settlements and an overall stronger position in non-Western countries. Few people are willing to give up the power they’ve earned, especially a position of power earned over the corpses of friends and family.
Whereas the Galactics have it easier. For many, they understand the need to work together, to ally with existing factions. And many of those factions are already culturally set, already guaranteed. Through race or creed, the settlement owners who have come to Earth often have a game plan. We’re so busy fighting everyone, we’re slowly losing, no matter how hard the champions fight.
The scary thing? I can see it all, read it all, in the histories of other species.
“Fine. We’re idiots,” I say, echoing my thoughts out loud. “But they’re my idiots.”
Ali nods and I rip open a Portal, stepping through to move to the Shop.
Locating Cheng Shao took but a single expensive trip to the Shop. Teleporting to her took even more money, especially considering I had to port in to where the woman was grinding a hundred miles west of Hainan. It kind of amused me that no matter where you went, if it was up high, the zones were higher. You’d think that Mana would pool lower down, but nope. It was the mountains and deep caverns, the extremes, that generated the differences in zones. Outside of certain notable plains and deserts.
“Mr. Lee.” Cheng Shao stares at me as I walk up to her.
I opted to teleport a kilometer away so that I could make the rest of the journey on foot. I figured that’d give her more than enough time to notice me, compared to appearing right next to her. Certainly, it’s a somewhat less hostile maneuver.
“Why are you stalking me?”
Okay, maybe not.
“I wanted to speak with you. I come in peace,” I say, holding up my hands while giving her a hopefully disarming grin.
Unfortunately, Cheng Shao doesn’t return my smile at all. “I am training.” She turns away. “Perhaps another time.”
“Look, it’s about the Planetary Vote—”
“Training.”
“Ms. Cheng.” I pause then growl. “I just need to know if Bipasha’s telling the truth. Will the Chinese settlement owners support her?”
“I do not comment on the Party’s decisions,” Cheng Shao states flatly while speeding up.
I hiss in frustration as the woman throws up a wall in front of me when I attempt to follow. I could break it or Blink Step through it. But I can’t actually make her talk to me, so I stand there, glaring at the metallic silver wall.
“What Party is she talking about?”
“Do you never read anything we give you? The Communist Party of China. The same one that was around before your System. One of their leaders managed to get the Mandarin Class. Utterly useless for direct combat, but it has a wide range of buffs for everyone below him. Between that and having a few bodyguards with good Combat Classes, they managed to hold things together in Beijing and expand from there. It’s not really a Communist Party anymore, but like the Americans, they’re keeping the same name. For now.”
“And doing the same old terror campaign shit, eh?” I say softly, looking at where Cheng Shao has disappeared over the ridge.
I consider blinking over to her, but Ali flashes some of the dots on my minimap. Of course she’s being watched. She might be able to get away with certain things because of her strength, but personal strength means little if you’ve got friends and families to worry about.
“Damn it. Now what do I do?” I need confirmation of what Bipasha has said, but I don’t actually have any contacts in the bureaucracy.
“If you’re thinking of walking in and demanding an audience, that might not work out that well.”
“Was not.”
“Uh-huh. I think this is a Katherine problem.”
I roll my eyes slightly but have to agree. The woman probably is the best option to get confirmation. Between being a banana and a North American, I’d probably be looked down upon even more than Katherine.
“I hate wasting my Credits.” I let the wind take my words before I open a Portal to the nearest city to tackle the next damn human idiot.
Of course, meeting Ikael isn’t as easy as Portaling into his office and demanding a meeting. For one thing, I don’t even know where he is. For another, I have no waypoints in Ethiopia. Which is why I find myself bouncing from long-range teleportation portal to long-range teleportation portal till I finally end up being pulled apart molecule by molecule and reformed in Addis Abba.
“Off the platform,” the guard orders me immediately.
I follow his orders without complaint, craning my head back to take in the view. I’m surprised to note more than a few guards hovering in th
e sky, guns pointed down at the rectangular teleportation platform, flanked by even larger beam cannons. In fact, I spot more than fifty guards on the ground, each of them armed with at least Tier II beam weaponry. I absently note the increased ambient temperature and the higher humidity, but neither is a major concern. They’ve set up the teleportation platform in what looks to be an old football stadium, though the grass is rather trampled and worn from all the traffic. All around us, hovering trucks and cranes pick up and deposit teleported goods with crisp efficiency while labourers sort goods like chipmunks on speed.
“Are you deaf?” the first guard snarls at me, bringing my attention back to him. “Newcomers are to report to an intake officer immediately.”
“Sorry.” I move to the area as directed by the first guard.
Thankfully, the line isn’t long, so it only takes me a short while to find myself in front of one of their intake officers. Standing in front of the new guard, I notice one of his eyes gleams with internal light. The slightest tracing of metal around the iris indicates this might not have been the eye he was born with.
Dark skin slightly flushed against the pale brown army uniform, he puffs up before he speaks. “Reason for visiting Tafar?”
“Tafar?” I frown.
“You’re in the Republic of Tafar,” the guard snaps, eyes narrowing. “Do you not read your notifications?”
“Haven’t had the time,” I mutter. I call back the notification, watching as other newcomers stroll right past the intake area. Either my tardiness drew the ire and attention of the guard or they’ve got a way to tell who is a newcomer or not.
You have entered a Safe Zone (the City of Addis Abba)
Mana flows in this area are stabilized. No monster spawning will occur in this region. Runic enchantments have increased skill growth by 1% in safe zone.
This Safe Zone includes:
City of Addis Abba City Center
Shop
City Dungeon
Guilds (Tier III * 4, Tier IV * 2, Tier V * 14)
Armory
More…
You are now in the Republic of Tafar
Current reputation with the republic: 04 (0 local + 0 regional + 4 global)
Current fame: 222 (0 local +11 regional + 211 global)
Do you wish to review the local laws & ordinances? (Y/N)
“What is the difference between fame and reputation?” I send the thought to Ali. I haven’t dug into that entire area, which I really do need to.
“Well, make time,” the guard snarls. “Now, reason for visiting?”
“I’m looking to speak with Jamal. Or better, Ikael,” I say, deciding to not beat around the bush.
Instead of angering the guard, my words make him burst into laughter, which is joined by his friends when he repeats my words to them.
I sigh, waiting for the group to fall silent. “My name’s John Lee.”
In the background, Ali answers my question. “They’re Galactic measurements. Reputation indicates their favorability toward you, mostly affected by the Contracts and interactions you have with an individual or corporations. Fame is an indicator of how well-known you are. They’re like your skills—reported numbers on factual data. A stock ticker for your reputation and fame rather than something that directly affects reality. Put another way—what you do makes it go up, versus your Skills which go up and then change the way the world works. Not that you have any Skills that make use of either of these figures.”
“That supposed to mean something?” the guard says with a snort.
“Looks like it does to some people.” I nod over the guard’s shoulder.
The guard turns and sees his boss waving him away from me even while muttering orders to another of his subordinates.
“Report this to Kofi immediately,” I lip-read the officer’s order before he strides forward and takes the blowhard guard’s place. He flashes me a smile, his pearly white teeth a stark contrast to his almost obsidian skin. “I am Lieutenant Amadi Worku. I have informed my superiors about your arrival. Would you like to wait in some place more appropriate?”
I nod, and the close-lipped lieutenant takes me to a small waiting room, making sure I have cold tea and snacks to nibble on while I wait.
I take the time to bug Ali. “And my numbers?”
“You’ve entered a few Contracts or facilitated the signing of a few. In addition, as you’re a ruler, you automatically get reputation points for, well, governing effectively. Local reputation adds up to give the number on your sheet, but local reputation is significantly decreased when taken out of its geographic bounds. Basically, it’s less effective away from where you generated the reputation. In addition, the change in reputation is dependent on the respective fame and reputation of the individual or organization you conduct deals with. Since you’re outside North America, your local reputation translates down to that four. As for your fame, do I need to explain that?”
“No. Is there Galactic reputation then? Or Solar System level?”
“Yes, but they’re pretty much zeroed out. Earth isn’t connected enough on a planetary scale that Galactic reputation has started crossing over significantly. Or that your Galactic reputation would affect matters locally,” Ali says.
I grunt, poking at the Fame and Reputation bars and, after a while, find where it’s located in my sheet. I barely glance at it these days, especially things like the giant list of skills that are mostly hidden, so I’m not surprised to find that I haven’t even noticed the new tab for the two statistics. There’s no real surprise in any of the information, so I shut the entire thing down. Though I do have one question.
“Why was it locked till I left and came back?”
“No useable Skill, remember? Also, it’s a Galactic achievement thing for those who don’t have a use for it. No point in making it available for the hicks who never leave their neighborhood, you know? Or the ones who don’t survive their first trip to another world,” Ali says. “If you aren’t smart enough to survive a pleasure cruise, you aren’t worth wasting the Mana on.”
“Pleasure cruise?”
“Eh, most Galactics don’t visit a Forbidden Planet for their first inter-planetary trip. As usual, you’re all kinds of special.”
I can’t help but chuckle at the teasing tone in Ali’s mental voice. To pass the time, I pick up one of the snacks, taking a bite of it, and wince before placing the dessert back down. Right. They’re trying to kill me with sugar. On second thought, I wave my hand and deposit the entire thing in my Altered Storage. Maybe Lana…
My brain hitches and I pause, my hand over the now-empty plate. Right. Katherine. Katherine might like this.
“Would Katherine have access to a Skill which could see the Reputation and Fame of others?” I send to Ali to distract myself.
“Definitely. Be hard to be a good gatekeeper if you can’t tell who’s reputable or not, no?” Ali replies. “I’d bet her new Class gives her other Skills too. Probably an upgraded Contract Skill which allows her to use her higher Reputation to enforce the contract. I could dig into it…”
“No. That’s good.” I was just looking for a distraction. No reason to spend good Credits when I can just ask her.
I settle down in my chair and slow my breathing, taking the small break to meditate.
Breathe in. Take the tension, the stress which is flowing through my body, and wrap it up.
Breathe out. Let the world and the stress fall away.
Repeat. Ad infinitum.
Chapter 12
It takes hours before they finally let me out of the luxurious cell they have me waiting in, long hours that I spend meditating and letting the information I’ve been gathering settle. I’ve gained a lot of data recently, and while my increased Intelligence has let me gather the information and even process it to some extent, it’s something else to grasp it on an intuitive level. Sometimes, letting things settle and allowing your unconscious mind to do the thinking is the best option.
&nb
sp; When the door opens, they find me awake and refreshed. There’s a whole guard troop here, but nothing in their body language—no overt tension, no angling of bodies to give me a smaller target—indicates what I’m seeing is anything more than an honor guard. Within minutes, we’re in an armored and luxurious hover car and being flown over to Ikael.
They show me into his office, an ornate thing with gold décor, gold trimmings, and yes, even a gold lamp. If not for the expensive wooden table and the green plush chair—outlined in gold—the entire place would have been truly too overbearing. As it is, it’s just painful to look at.
Seated in the chair till I enter, Ikael can only be described as solid. Dressed in a white-and-grey checkered silk shirt, he has numerous chunky gold rings on his fingers and a shaved head. Ikael’s welcoming smile does nothing to hide the predatory look in his eyes.
Ikael Tafar (Level 41 Aksumite Leader)
HP: 1380/1380
MP: 2170/2170
Conditions: Aura of Command, Coin of the Empire
“Aksumite?”
“Can’t offer you much. It’s a semi-unique, culture-based Class. Closest I’ve got is like a Celtic Warrior or Roman Counsel, something the System registered a while ago and he somehow decided to choose. Base Skills are definitely more combat-oriented. His Advanced Class here is more kingdom-driven. Coin of the Empire, for example, gives a minor boost to tax collected in his settlements. It literally generates Credits from the System.”
Mental Influence Resisted
I grunt, my eye twitching slightly as his Aura clashes with my own mental resistance. I’m surprised at how strong it is. The man must have put quite a few points into it. I feel it push against my mental boundaries. Push—but not win.
