by Tao Wong
Six days. I’ve been brought into a few more strategy meetings, gleaned a little more from the casual talk among our people and the way men have been distributed or the locations I’ve been led to to set up Portal locations. As much as we try to keep such information compartmentalized, some of it is easy enough to grasp, even for one as untrained in the art of war as I am.
Three Master Class enemies need a counter. They’re walking tank divisions, powerful enough to turn the tide of battle in any location. You can kill them if you throw enough Basic Classes at them, if you’re willing to stuff people down the exhaust pipes till the tracks are gummed up and they can’t move or see. Or you can counter strength with strength.
Seven teams, each rated to take out a single Master Class Galactic. I know the goal is to use a minimum of two teams for each Master Class. They’re all situated in the back of the line, waiting for me to Portal them in. Lana and company are one such team. Two Hakarta teams of eight men apiece, a pair of Special Forces teams from Fort Lewis, and two squads of Marines make up the remainder of the Master-Class killers.
Throughout the main fighting force, smaller elite groups are scattered. Our non-military fighters have naturally broken themselves into fighting parties, people they know and trust. Adventuring parties mixed with infantry fire teams, all of them backing each other up with appropriate allocations of Skills and spells. Each squad has been graded and ranked, ranging from the Basic to Master Class killers, some teams larger than others. Within each combat rank are additional grades. And based off these grades, the Officers, Commanders, and Tacticians can allocate help as needed to tackle threats.
Six days to break down, calculate, and tag each group. And during that time, the few resistance groups doing battle with the Zarrie continue to die, without news, without hope, without aid. Knowing that we could do more for them and yet we aren’t guts me. We can’t, not without letting the Zarrie know that we’re making a move, that we’re getting closer. That’s one of the lessons from Wier’s books. You can’t fight a war as if the enemy knows all your moves, but you can’t afford to discount it either. And so we leave them to fight and die, battling over neighborhood blocks that hold no meaning and City Cores that change every few weeks.
Six days, and finally, we’re ready.
***
The sight the next morning is something to behold. Soldiers and Marines, civilians and police officers, Galactics and humans in all shapes and sizes exit Fort Irwin. I watch as the myriad of figures, transported on everything from pony-sized puppies to futuristic armored personnel carriers, upgraded tanks, and Bradleys trek forward, an army of mish-mashed individuals with one will, and I marvel at the weirdness of the System once more.
Our first step is to take the cities that lie between Fort Irwin and Los Angeles. While I can Portal people directly into combat, I’m still one man with a limited window on my Portal. There’re only so many people I can safely and quickly transport.
Barstow is our first stop, followed by the urban sprawl that makes up Hesperia, Victorville, and the rest. After that, we’ll probably skip the Angeles National Forest and its myriad Level 80 monsters and clear part of the way through San Bernardino. Luckily for us, the entire San Bernardino county is a battle-ridden ground filled with pissed off Californians and Galactics in equal measure. San Bernardino itself seems to have done really well, with nearly half of its City Cores held by its residents. I guess living in a crime-ridden, poverty-stricken city has some benefits when the apocalypse comes. Fact is, they’d have done even better if they weren’t so busy fighting each other and selling one another out, but that’s humans for you.
Those are the easy marching orders to discern, even if no one has said as much. Still, for now, it’s Hesperia and on coming battles while we wait to see if and when the Zarrie react.
***
While the core zones of LA and its surrounding areas have settlement shields in place, the various towns and cities that encompass the San Bernardino valley have none of those defenses. Most of their City Cores and regions remain blasted ruins, areas that have suffered from the initial apocalypse, the monsters that have grown up in the city, and later, the sneak attacks by the Marines and the army.
As settlements have a strict financial management policy—otherwise, settlement owners would be tossing Credits in and drawing them out willy-nilly—the lack of development isn’t surprising. I actually do need to do more research on why these Credit management policies in settlements are in place, but that’s something for future John to do.
Idle thoughts I’m able to have because, like the Master Class-rated teams, I’m benched from the fight around Hesperia. The less our enemies know of my presence, the better off we are. That’s about the biggest drawback to purchasing information from the store—it’s always a time-specific purchase. I can tell where someone is at the moment I purchase their location, but it offers no System-guaranteed tracking. It means for someone with the innate mobility I have, they can only rely on technology and Skills to keep track of me.
Staring out of the window of the In-n-Out burger shack that’s been taken over by the Master Class teams, I watch the smoke rise from the sprawling cities and try to convince myself that the smell of burnt flesh and overheated metal is coming from the kitchen. Sam and a couple others have the grill fired up, tossing hamburgers and making fries as they cheat physics and entropy to make the mundane cooking equipment work once more. It’s a good distraction and a better use of time than my own brooding.
“And that’s the last Core,” Major Alvarez informs me as he walks over from the small command post he and his fellow minders have set up in one corner.
“Good.” Seeing that that’s all Alvarez has to say, I realize I still don’t have any marching orders. “Losses?”
“Minimal. Six Basic teams, one Advanced-ranked team were complete losses. Two Advanced teams have lost significant numbers and have been combined,” Alvarez replies.
Considering an Advanced Class team of Galactics was holding each of the Cores, I’m pleasantly surprised.
“Mr. Lee, I have a question if you have a moment,” Alvarez says. “For you and your Spirit.”
“He’s got a name you know. Ali. Like the boxer,” Ali says with a snort.
“Go ahead,” I say, ignoring Ali, who is floating beside me and pulling together strands of data.
I almost wish Kim was here, but since I don’t own any of these settlements, he (it?) is currently out of reach. Still, the AI’s data processing capability is better than Ali’s and would be useful, even if he doesn’t have the right knowledge sets.
“Like us, most Galactics seem to adventure and do battle in teams. Thus, the numerous teams of Advanced Class fighters we’ve met,” Alvarez says. “But we’ve yet to meet any Master Class teams.”
“What? You want to meet some?” Ali says tauntingly. “I’m sure that can be arranged.”
“Why ask me?” I ask.
“Your propensity for reading is well known. And you’ve got certain advantages in acquiring additional knowledge.” Alvarez says the last part while shooting a glance at Ali.
“Less than you’d think,” I say with a smile.
“Hey!”
“But to answer your question, there are. In fact, there are more Master Class teams than solo adventurers who ascend to that level. However, the teams rarely stay together after that,” I say, shooting Alvarez a glance. Seeing that he’s still listening, I continue. “You understand how the experience requirements keep rising each stage, right? Thus, it costs you roughly fifty thousand experience points to go from Level 1 to 2 when you’re an Advanced Class. By the time you hit Level 41, you need roughly two hundred fifty thousand points. Now, double that again when you’re starting out as a Master Class. You see the problem?”
Alvarez blinks, his jaw working. He’s doing the math quietly, thinking of his experience gains recently, his eyes slowly widening.
“That’s right. Group experience distributi
on rules while killing monsters means there’s less total experience distributed than if you fought solo. When you need that much experience to go up a single Level, you can’t adventure with your team. In fact, adventuring and ‘grinding’ for experience isn’t even that smart anymore.”
“Then what is?”
“Quests. We don’t see a lot of it here, mostly because we don’t have the set up, but in properly established Galactic worlds, there are numerous quests available.” I shrug. “It’s also why you don’t see many Master Classes running around here. They’re too busy Leveling to bother with things like this. Of course…”
“Of course…?”
“Well, not everyone wants to Level after they reach that point,” I say. “It’s why the ones we find are normally lower Leveled.”
“Ah, except couldn’t protecting the settlements be part of their quests?” Alvarez asks.
“Yup. It probably is too.” I pause, considering how to answer simply. “Quests, well, they gain in experience as the need and duration they aren’t completed increases. So say a quest to pull a tooth from a live dragon isn’t completed in a year. The experience it gives goes up every day, and by the end of the year, the experience gain from completion is probably worth double what it was. A ‘protect’ quest like this, well, it isn’t particularly old, so it probably isn’t very good experience. Not for a Master Class.”
“Oh…” Alvarez nods in thanks. Before he can ask a follow-up question, he stills, his eyes glazing over as he listens and reads a notification only he can see.
Without saying goodbye, the major walks off, muttering to himself. I could listen in, but I don’t, willfully ignoring the man.
“Not going to point out that you’re a giant cheater?” Ali sends.
I snort quietly. No, I’m definitely not going to point out how, because of me skipping an entire Class Level, I need significantly less experience to Level than what I just described. Even if, right now, it means my last few Levels have been a grind.
“Animal style?” Carlos asks, holding a platter of burgers in front of me. I stare at him uncomprehendingly, wondering if we’ve switched to talking about fighting techniques. “Animal style burgers? You know what, never mind. Just eat it.”
I shake my head, grabbing the tray and putting it on the table next to me. Americans are weird. In a moment, Lana joins me, snatching a stuffed burger with cheese melting off the definitely-not-beef patties, and I push the thought aside, starting in on my meal before it all disappears.
***
San Bernardino itself is a trickier nut to crack. By the time we get to it a half day later, the damn city and most of its surroundings are on fire. The constant battles and the lack of upgrades to the county and its surroundings have all but guaranteed that wild fires are a constant danger. It doesn’t help that the System replaces the burnt-out brush within days each time. This wildfire seems to have really gotten out of hand though.
“Bet you it’s some mage who’s gotten hold of a new fire spell,” Sam mutters as he directs drones to dump more fire retardant on the smoking hillside.
“No chance. Fire mages are smarter than that. It’s probably one of you non-mages,” Chetan says with a bite. He weaves his hand slightly, guiding a whip of flame to cut into the earth and burn the grass on it to create a firebreak. Either that or he’s just looking for the chance to burn something.
“We need a temperature drop over here,” Ingrid’s voice cackles over the communicators.
“Got it,” I say.
I almost pop open a Portal by reflex before remembering I’m not supposed to and Blink Step my way over to the lady. Mostly, I’m thankful that I don’t have to listen to Sam and Chetan’s argument, since it’s one that I’ve heard numerous times. Stuck as we are on the surrounding hills, we can barely even see San Bernardino. But at least this time, we get to do something.
“Isn’t this kind of pointless?” Ingrid says to me when I’m done casting Polar Zone over the area, the assassin standing with one leg cocked and relaxed.
“Aren’t you working? And what do you mean?” I say.
“The System regrows everything super-fast anyway. So all this, it’ll just regrow in what? A week? And I’m waiting for my spell cooldown to come off. It’s not as if I have that many useful spells, you know,” Ingrid says.
“Sure, it’s a waste of time,” Ali answers Ingrid with a smile.
“Stop smiling at me. It makes me worried when you do, you pervert,” Ingrid says while raising her hand to cast a cone of cold at another piece of ground. A few seconds later, she throws a rain cloud over another spot.
“Rain?” I say.
“Soothing rain. Mana regeneration and a mild healing regeneration increase,” Ingrid answers. “It’s from a ring.”
“Huh…”
“I’m waiting, Spirit.”
“What? There’s nothing to worry about. Let it burn. Let it burn again. After a while, you’ll just get fire-resistant grass, fire elementals, explosive plants, and other creatures that either thrive on the burning and promote it or, you know, creatures that can just ignore it,” Ali says with a shrug. “It’s all good.”
“Explosive plants?” I say.
“Sure. What better way to promote fires?” Ali says.
“Right. More water.” Ingrid nods firmly.
The desert is already tough enough, with the Mana-enhanced sandstorms, crazy-ass winds, and mutated animals. We don’t need even nastier forms of plants and creatures coming along.
***
The conquest of San Bernardino was messy, destructive, and ultimately, successful. Luckily, we only lost a few Advanced Class team members, the majority of our losses being focused around our Basic Classes. There, we lost a lot more, including the complete wipe of five teams. It was a painful loss that left our people reeling. Rather than push ahead, Miller called for a break. Various scout groups kept moving ahead while the logistics and backend helpers came along to shore up the city’s defenses.
The Zarrie hit us the next morning as we near LA. They let our scouting parties past, the main body of our fighting force stretched out as we deal with a giant, shifting canyon that moves without rhyme or reason, creating caverns and gaps. It doesn’t help that ginormous beetles crawl from the ground at random intervals, launching themselves at our teams and attempting to drag them into the earthen gaps.
I’m working my way through the canyon, using my beam rifle to pick off threatening beetles while sitting safely on the floating PAV. The Zarrie attack hits us from the northwest, to the right of the broken-up road and canyon, as the latest attack from the beetles recedes.
The Zarrie lob the System-equivalent of artillery shells at us—high explosive high-tech weaponry, kinetic impact spells, traditional chemical explosive shells, and spell-enchanted weapons. Amongst all the explosive destruction comes waves of poisonous gas and quick-solidifying chemicals, the enchanted smoke obscuring our vision.
Long hours of combat and in some cases, training, kicks in after the initial shock. Teams pull in close and tight, hunkering down and guarding each other as they trigger additional static defenses. Unfortunately, the screams that reverberate through the canyon speak to the futility of that defense.
“Ali, go high.”
“On it.”
The spirit must have been moving already because within moments, I get a secondary feed from his vision, a slightly disorienting moment as I “see” through his eyes. It’s not a clear vision, partly because my mind still struggles to parse both visions at the same time and partly because our link isn’t that powerful. Yet. It’s still more than enough for what I need. In the relative safety of the shields I’ve already conjured, I have a few moments to assess the battlefield in peace.
In the northeast, there are no friendly dots left. All our scouts, all the men tasked with keeping that flank safe are gone. Even the dots that were there before have disappeared, some replaced with red and others gone as if they were never there. Now, the r
idge is filled with Galactics shooting into the obscuring smoke, laying down suppressive fire as another group rushes in to engage us in melee combat. As Ali spins around, I spot the teams that haven’t been caught in the initial trap blocked off, walled away from the fight by a Skill that creates a towering, translucent wall that constantly shifts in size, sending out spikes to lash out at our men.
“Boy-o…” Ali highlights one particular figure on the cliff, flashing him in a rainbow outline repeatedly.
The distance is a bit too far to make out details beyond its raised hands that just look wrong and a tail. One thing I do note is that next to him is a team of spellcasters forming a ritual circle.
“Master Class?”
“Either that or he’s got one hell of a spell. That wall is his,” Ali states.
As he speaks, I watch a spike erupt from the wall, punching through the chest of the female melee fighter who’s been whaling on it with her mace. A moment later the spike enlarges, tearing the woman apart in a shower of gore, splattering all those around with her innards.
“Asshole,” I snarl. With a thought, Sabre transforms around me even as I traverse the smoke-filled terrain. “Jump lines, Blink, Portal,” I mentally command my helmet, the software over-layering cylindrical domes ahead of me to indicate the max distances for my Skills. It’s a minor adjustment that I came up with since Calgary, a little advantage to help my spells. Before I trigger either of my Skills, I check that both shields are fully activated.
Once ready, I use Ali’s viewpoint to Blink Step into the air above the smoke, giving me a moment to view the battle fully. As I fall, I thrust out a hand and launch a fireball into an approaching team of Galactics, Ali swooping past me as he attempts to close the distance to skip ahead again. Not that I need it—the Galactics are barely a few hundred meters away.
An icon flashes on my helmet—a lock and a figure stepping through a doorway. Before I can consciously understand what it means, I’ve triggered Blink Step to put me close to the cliff face. It’s a mistake. As I use Blink Step, a molecular grater is taken to every cell in my body, leaving tiny tears all over my prone form.
