“-telling you, even if it was transversal, I could still plot it. It has to be root level.”
“But that doesn’t make sense, Walker,” Hunter could hear his uncle say, just barely. “Who’s on root level other than Infra itself? The Overlord?”
“Dunno. Could be a patron. Heard of one of them doing something similar once or twice. Signature’s all wrong for that, though.”
“So it couldn’t be a patron,” Ernie said, starting to sound more angry than worried. “Real helpful, Peter.” Angry and snippy, Hunter amended.
“Look, alright. I’ll try one more thing, but it’ll make a mess-”
There was an outrushing of displaced air and suddenly Hunter could see again, once more standing in the middle of his uncle’s library, but now surrounded by at least a dozen machines, all pointed directly at him.
“Hey, guys,” Hunter said right before taking a deep breath oh wow I’ve got a whole body again. “Sorry about that?”
Ernie vaulted over the ring of devices and pulled Hunter into a tight hug. “Hey there, kid. Welcome back. Where’d you go?”
“I’m telling you, kid went nowhere. Welcome back, by the way,” Pete said.
“Umm, not totally sure,” he mumbled in reply great real helpful. “Got a broken achievement, then I got uploaded to the data whatsits to get it fixed.”
“Like I said, nowhere,” Pete said, arms folded.
“Alright, Walker,” Ernie let go of Hunter and shouted. “We get it, you’re the smartest guy in the room.”
“Least someone gets it.”
Ernie shook his head and grumbled something unintelligible, then turned back to Hunter. “That’s all? Infra wouldn’t pull you for a broken achievement. Usually you just get, ‘Check back later for updates, hope whatever bonus you were supposed to receive wasn’t going to save your life later,’ and then in a month it’s fixed.”
“Ah, yeah,” Hunter mumbled with a blush. “There was something about my personnel file having too many pre-existing issues. I got to talk to Crushes-Valiant for a while, though. He’s super cool.”
Pete laughed the loudest and the longest that Hunter had ever heard, bent over with his hands on his knees, and from the look on his uncle’s face, it was the most he’d ever heard either. They both waited for him to finish, which took a good forty-five seconds at least, at which point he caught his breath, gasping, and stood back up.
“So let me get this straight,” Pete said, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Little Devil here, who’s only been sixteen since the spring, and lived his entire life in some tiny, out of the way redoubt in Kansas, has so many red flags in the system already that he had to get data-delved by the Overlord? Hoo boy. Kid, I was wrong about you, you’re alright in my book.”
“Umm, thanks?”
“Sure, kid. On the plus side, he sent you back. That’s probably a free pass to tell SysPol to shove it, at least once or twice. That’s the one all-clear even they won’t argue with.”
“Hey, Pete,” Ernie looked like he was about to tell him off, then he changed his mind. “Actually, you’re right. Except it’s too bad we’re not dumb enough to suggest my sister’s kid could start smuggling contraband past the Pols, huh.”
“Oh, yeah there’s that.”
“So, umm,” Hunter said, wobbling. “It’s been a long day. I’m gonna go take a whole nap or two.”
Ernie helped him up the long set of stairs, then to his room, keeping a steady grip on Hunter’s shoulders.
“Hey, Ernie? You don’t think I’m a weirdo troublemaker, do you?” he asked, just as he was falling asleep, and didn’t hear his uncle’s reply.
----------------------------------------
Hunter was pretty sure that if he never saw a two hundred page handwritten notebook again in his life, he would be perfectly ok with it. Since he had his water affinity now, the two spells he’d been practicing with before refused to give him skill gains, and he had to pick some actual ones if he wanted to continue to progress. Luckily, Infra awarded one free spell, per skill, per skill tier, so while he’d have to use talents or class abilities later, he had two he could take right away. He was just having trouble deciding on which two.
“This is nuts,” he mumbled, snapped Ernie’s book shut, and dropped it and his head onto the table. “How does anyone even begin to figure out what they want?”
“Most people,” Ajit replied, taking a sip of his coffee, “aren’t just running screaming through Infra like there’s a closeout sale and grabbing everything they can.”
“Hey, umm,” Hunter scrunched up his face, still pressed against the table, “no I guess that’s pretty fair.”
“For instance, I have an air affinity. I discovered that when I became a mage, not by walking around all day, trying to make sparkles pop out of my fingers and saying, ‘Hey Ajit look,’ every time I thought I saw a flash of light.”
“In my defense, you know, that almost worked?”
“Right, of course. When I found my specialty, my family and I had a long talk, after which I was put in contact with one of my cousins, also an air affinity. He taught me the basics in regards to which spells have which effects, and gave me some advice on how best to proceed.”
“So you had like a mentor. I’ve got at least one of those. Three or four, maybe.”
“That may be so, but then after the basics, I decided to come to the school here. They’ve done extensive research as to cost effectiveness, potency, and adaptability,” Ajit sat back as he spoke. “Much more than my cousin the dabbler.”
“And now you’ve got the same spells as anyone else there? The ones that work?”
“Hunter, there is something to be said for collective decision making.”
“Yeah, you’re right, I guess,” Hunter said as he sat up, then grinned. “So you’re past level twenty-five? That’s so cool. I thought you were my age.”
“I’m seventeen, yes. We don’t all take a gap year directly after integration. At home, SysPol has a very smoothly run system for levelling new hires out of the beginner division.”
“Huh, I didn’t know that. Where I’m from, the Pol just sits around and occasionally makes sure you’re not poisoning the grain, or whatever.”
“May I give you some advice, as an acquaintance?” Hunter rolled his eyes and groaned until Ajit continued, “As a friend, of course I meant.”
“Would an acquaintance make sure you had a whole fancy restaurant free to take that guy you liked to?”
“I don’t know if it was fancy, exactly.”
“It had tablecloths, Ajit. Some places you can eat at downtown don’t even have tables. It was plenty fancy,” Hunter insisted.
“Point taken,” Ajit replied with a nod. “Then, as a friend, may I?”
“For sure, please.”
“I recognize how difficult it must have been for your uncles-”
“Just one of em’s actually my uncle, but go on.”
“For your uncle and his friends, then?” Ajit waited for a nod. “For them to make it this far relying on self-determination, extensive note taking,” he paused there to look at the book on the table, “and a fair amount of luck. It’s remarkable, actually.”
“Umm, but?”
“But looking to follow in their footsteps, with the same rules and processes, and thinking you’re going to get similar results is just faulty logic. It’s like asking someone who’s throwing dice about their technique, and thinking that if you twist your wrist just like they do, then you’ll get the same numbers.”
“Oof, Ajit.”
“I know, I’m sorry, but-”
“No, you’re right, man,” Hunter interrupted. “I just got done telling someone the other day that I was going to use every resource available, and here I am not doing that. Wanna know what’s kind of holding me back with this whole thing though?”
“Absolutely.”
“Ok, so umm. If I’m throwing dice, I kinda see this college thing, or Order training, or the stuff like that as baking a cake. I want to say baking a cake. This might come out wrong.”
“I can handle it,” Ajit said, grinning. “That happens sometimes.”
“So my mom bakes a really good cake. She’s got an old recipe, I don’t think it’s hers originally, I think she found it in the house. That doesn’t matter, umm. So one time I wanted to bake a cake, and she showed me how, and helped a little, and it came out just as good as one of hers. Then I wanted to do it again, and I screwed something up, and it came out a mess.”
“I see, but honestly Hunter, there are awful consequences no matter what in this world. It’s just how things are.”
“No, well yeah,” he held up a hand as he thought briefly. “But when I didn’t screw it up, it was only just as good as Mom’s. Like, I could make that cake fifty times, and the best it would be is just as good as the time before.”
“Hunter, listen. You’re right. But at beginner levels, honestly for all of the mortal levels, that’s not a big deal. Bake a perfectly good cake first, then later learn how to make it better. Don’t throw your dice so early when you don’t have to,” Ajit finished, chuckling.
“We got, umm, mixed metaphors here, huh.”
“Yes, but,” Ajit hummed to himself, the way he did when he was really thinking, “at least compromise. Or consider compromising.”
“Ok, yeah, you’re right. So, umm, wanna sneak me into the library at your fancy college later?”
----------------------------------------
“Hey, Breaker,” Hunter said, panting and leaning on his channeling rod. “Did I ask you if you ever thought about joining an Order?”
“Nah,” he replied, shaking his arms out oh wow did I hurt him?, “Don’t think you did. Why? You all of a sudden going on the straight and narrow?”
“Yeah, you know me,” Hunter said, tugging on his wait when did that get ripped shirt. “Thinking I might look good in a uniform.”
“Well, as Ernie’d say, short answer is no,” Breaker chuckled. “Never did think about it.”
“Long answer?”
“Ain’t never been one for long answers, kid. Medium answer, sure. Saw all the orders here, during the Siege. K.C. Arties, K.C. Cav, K.C. just about everything. Didn’t like em. Guy at the top of the chain gives a bad order, they all still got to do it, then bam,” he said, loud enough at the end to make Hunter flinch. “No more K.C. Lancers. Ernie or Pete make a bad decision, I tell em to shove it.”
“What about the Pols? Nobody’d be doing crime with Officer Breaker around.”
“Eh, wouldn’t have worked. Especially nowadays. You join up with SysPol, you do exactly what they want outta you.”
“Umm, what do you mean?”
“You haven’t noticed? SysPol’s got a curriculum. They snap kids up before they get a class, tell them here’s what you’re gonna learn. Sword, rifle, fire, Chariot, HEP. If it turns out you ain’t good at any of those, they wash you right out.”
“Chariot? HEP? Dunno what those are, sorry.”
“Chariot’s their preferred patron, the Chariot of Justice screams as it races, or something, and HEP is high energy projection. You know, the big guns.”
“Huh, ok. So they’re sorta like the college. Ajit says they only teach the best spells, but I mean, are they the best spells?”
“Check your uncle’s book on that,” Breaker said, then clapped him on the shoulder when Hunter started to groan. “I mean it. Look for anything with red permanent marker. Our rule is, for the most part, if we see a red, we bug out. If they’re teaching those, then that’s a point to them.”
“Got it. Thanks, Breaker.”
“Not a problem, kid,” he said as he strode out of the room.
Hunter took a seat on the mat to clear up his notifications and think, idly picking at the large gash in his Fourex tee shirt.
You have raised Staff Fighting to one hundred (100).
You have one (1) talent available from maxing your staff fighting skill. Please pick from the following pool of staff fighting talents. [Thunder Stick] You smash down your opponents with heavy blows. +damage with staff fighting weapons [Staff Channel] You are one with the staff, it is an extension of your will. you may make touch attacks with a staff (synergy) [Dirty Trick] You fight in a way that others do not see coming. (active) forgo damage on a successful staff attack to trip target
“Ok that’s just dumb,” Hunter muttered. “Can’t trip an Arax, or like a giant slug, or a hoverdrone, ugh. Probably more things you can’t trip than you can.” Hunter wasn’t completely sure which of the other two worked better, but he did know he was totally fine with never fighting as slowly as he had been to practice his staff again, and that Staff Channel would probably fit the rest of his fighting style, so he took it.
He glanced over at the long metal stick he’d discarded after the spar so heavy, and got a pleasant surprise.
[Weighted Channeling Rod] Uncommon. Made of an unknown alloy, some cultures arm their least proficient fighters with these for an extra boost. +20% efficacy of attacks used through [Staff Channel]
“Oh, I get it now,” he mumbled to himself. “That’s going to be useful.”
He spent his time meditating after that until dinner, trying to trick the “recent skill gains” part of the skill into raising staff fighting even further, but it didn’t work. It did leave him refreshed and clear headed, though, which he couldn’t complain about.
----------------------------------------
“I gotta say, buddy,” Hunter said as he looked up at the “Kansas City Mystics Memorial University Library” sign, “I’m a little disappointed that I just get to walk in.”
“It’s a library,” Ajit said, with his particular slow cadence that said he was trying to be patient, “for a practically free college, in one of the safest cities on the continent. Why would it be locked up like a vault?”
“I dunno,” he replied, then quieted down at the look from the lady at the front desk as they passed, “There’s secret knowledge and magical tomes in here, right?”
“Yes, but the purpose is, ultimately, to make sure less people die. What would be the benefit of making it more difficult to access?”
“Huh, you’re right,” Hunter mumbled. “Just less fun this way.”
“I promise,” Ajit said with a light pat on his shoulder, “if you ever find some crazy old man with a magical library he keeps people away from, I will help you break in. As long as we donate all the books to this one, after.”
“Ok, deal. Capers are super exciting, you’ll see.”
Ajit just nodded, led him back further into the library, and waved his hand vaguely. “I believe this is where most of the information you’re looking is. Water spells, affinity advancements, and the like. I’ve got some studying to do over there,” he pointed, “but feel free to message me if you feel overwhelmed looking around. But not bored. Read more, if you get bored.”
“Got it,” Hunter nodded, then looked around as Ajit walked off. There were an amazing number of books around, so much more than he’d ever seen. It occurred to him that this may be one of the largest collections of books practically anywhere, in fact. He knew that when people like his dad were hurriedly fleeing the city, they didn’t have much time to gather up anything like literature, and that most of these larger cities were practically destroyed shortly after.
Of course, all the books he was looking at were decidedly post-apocalyptic. As he browsed through them, he noticed that most were hastily bound, printed on stiff, thin sheets of what was probably some kind of Infratech plastic, all glossy and curiously formatted. It reminded him, in a weird way, of Ernie’s collection of notebooks, just a mad dash to write down anything and everything in a new world, in an attempt to make sense of hopefully a fraction of it, only done at a much larger scale.
He gathered up a small pile, starting with the basics. He had “Efficiency Metrics for Entry-Level Water Spells,” “Affinity Coefficients for Practical Water Mages,” “A Beginner’s Pros and Cons of Water Advancement,” and others, all with names that sounded like they definitely knew what they were talking about. Hunter found a table close to his section and laid them all out, along with Ernie’s encounter notebook of spells, and then sat down to work.
His first conclusion was that everything was complicated and dry. Hunter wanted to believe, deep down, that things worked the way they appeared from the outside, that his hazy recollections of Miracle’s dad simply pointing at the ground and having it rise up were both exactly as easy and mystical as they appeared, but it was increasingly seeming like that wasn’t the case. Instead of rhyming chants, there were graphs, instead of quests to find the right wand for the right wizard, there were essays about wood density as it related to casting efficiency, instead of clever riddles that would lead to hidden knowledge, there were more graphs. After paging through the university’s books, Hunter concluded that there were an awful lot of graphs.
Stolen novel; please report.
Ernie’s notebook wasn’t much help either, he found. Any water spells that were marked in bold red like Breaker had said to look for were magic way out of his reach, which was expected, but they also seemed to be from affinities that the college didn’t teach, at least at his level of proficiency. He got up to pull out a few extra books he’d skipped on the first pass, and then settled in with his own notebook that he’d started carrying around in his satchel oh no I’ve become my uncle.
He wrote “Water” at the top of a blank page and stared at it for a while. He knew there had to be some pattern to how one advanced and refined their affinities, and he was going to find it. The scariest, run and hide, adopt new strategy spells Hunter could find that sounded like a water affinity were either in the magical poisons category, a group of spells that all drained from a target’s stats and gave them to the caster, and then two that Ernie had double-underlined and under type had just written, “feels like drowning.” So at the bottom of the page, Hunter scribbled down those three.
He skimmed the textbooks again and finally found a pair of useful graphs. One showed the entry-level spells that seemed to be most useful to cast repeatedly for quick learning at low skill ratings, and the other listed which spells a brand new mage could cast, ordered by their “Resilience Effect per Affinity Cost” which Hunter was pretty sure anyone not writing a fancy book would just call the damage ratio. He noticed, with a little embarrassment, that mist spells, which he had been previously considering to supplement his still struggling stealth abilities, were very low on both lists.
Near the top of both charts, however, which he wrote down near the middle of his page, were a lot of spells listed either as wave, ice, or ugh blood. He left his table again and only returned an hour later, toting one last book, a thin one titled, “Notable Magic Used in the Kansas City Siege.” Ordinarily, this would be something he’d actually read cover to cover, because accurate information about a lot of went on in the early years of the apocalypse was incredibly hard to find, but this time he flipped through and simply made note of the biography blurbs for various mages, where it listed their specialties in detail.
When he was finished, his page of notes was a mess, with arrows leading from one level to another, sometimes with notes in between, and a lot of question marks dotted around. He did think he had what he needed, though.
“So,” he whispered to himself, “blood leads to poison, which is gross, and other things. But I don’t really need a second inevitable doom skill in combat, so let’s just ignore that for now. Ice doesn’t match anything at the bottom, but it does lead to temperature, which is weird because fire spells do too. Wave leads to impact, same as you can get to from the earth side, but it also might branch off to draining? I bet mist turns into whatever these drowning spells are, but I wouldn’t want to risk it. Ugh I hate this.”
By the time Ajit had come back, Hunter was pretty kinda maybe sure about his choices, so before they left the library he went ahead and selected them.
[Rising Tides] When the water retreats, it always returns, crashing. You embody that nature when you channel your affinity. (infusion) one (1) affinity. six (6) minute duration. +damage to counterattacks [Water Burst] Conjuring water is a simple trick. Creating it quickly enough to push, to hurt, to even cut is more difficult. (evocation) (active) two (2) affinity. +moderate damage to a successful touch attack
----------------------------------------
Hunter had a problem. He had four magic spells he knew, actual spectacular magic that he could cast at will, that he could break or at least bend the laws of the universe with, that all combined to improve his Devilborn style to greater heights and to make him even more of the untouchable pain to fight that he was hoping to be. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that he couldn’t cast all of them at once.
He sat on the roof of the Fourex building, the place that had over the past couple months become his troubleshooting spot, his calculator open in Infra, another bulkier calculator on his lap, and his leg stretched out for his helperbot to push against his foot while it moved through its exercises. Over to his side he had two of his uncle’s notebooks open, one labelled “How Infra Calculates” and the other “How Infra Maybe Calculates v.2.” Neither were all that helpful, or maybe Hunter was just missing something.
All he knew was that, while meditating, he could only keep up one spell indefinitely. When he was just exploring the city, that was fine, he would just have A Light to Follow active while he ran around looking for hidden artwork. Before his trip to the library, he was doing alright during morning exercises too, just getting used to the way his body moved when Wisp granted him its Flickering Form. The little bit of skill that bonus awareness would have given him didn’t amount to much, so he usually didn’t bother with it.
But now he had Rising Tides to work with as well, and he needed a lot of practice, it turned out. Keeping his affinity infused, feeling the cool water sensation while he went through his forms, moving from position to position in time with the powerful motion of the still-strange essence rushing in and out, it was almost too difficult to manage, even while in his combat trance. He needed to know how his body was going to move before he was at all comfortable even sparring with both spells up.
When he did that, however, both pieces of magic coursing through his ephemeral channels, he could watch his affinity drop in the Infra screen, point by point, and that worried him.
“Okay, buddy,” he said, and Trips tilted its round shell to acknowledge him, “if I’m right, and I’m not sure I am, I can keep up relatively full effectiveness for three and a half hours. That’s, I mean, that’s pretty good. I don’t know if I even have the vigor for that. But if I need that extra edge, that third spell knocks me down to an hour and a half, and a fourth would be under an hour. That’s assuming that higher level spells don’t cost more, which they probably do. And either way, knock off ten minutes for every Water Burst, and Water Burst is fun.
“I mean, I don’t think I’m going to ever be a real life sorceror or cleric or something. That would be pretty cool, but like, you gotta go with what you know. There are talents to get my regeneration up, but I still have a lot more dodge and parry ones I want to learn first, and I’m running pretty short on them anyway. I guess I’ve only got one option. It’s going to be dangerous, so are you in, Trips?”
He put a hand out and they bumped fist to clamp, then went on their mission. He prepared for an entire day, drawing maps, coming up with codenames, generally just wasting time in the way you had to when you wanted to make a successful heist. Then, the next day, he was ready, and Hunter and Trips both got into position.
He banged on the door to Pete’s workshop and yelled, “I know you’re in there, Walker. Lemme in!”
He had a strategy, and he was implementing it, even if it was going to get him killed. There was an old self-help book that his parents had at home, another piece of scrap of the old world that they kept around more out of sentimentality than actual usefulness. Neither his mother or father took it seriously, in fact they had a few jokes between themselves about the advice contained within, but one winter a bored Hunter read it from cover to cover three times, and since it was the only actual information about negotiating he’d ever been exposed to, that’s what he was going with.
Step one was to start by putting your opponent off balance. “I’m gonna tell my mom you showed me a picture that made me puke, and I’m going to let her come to her own conclusions about what it was, if you don’t open this door right now!”
“Alright, kid, alright,” Pete grumbled as he opened the door and ushered him in. “I’m not doing any more teaching if that’s what you want. Already told Ernie that.”
“You know,” Hunter said as he strolled into the room, hands in his pockets, looking around with a vague aura of casualness. “I know a lot of people in this town, made a lot of connections, maybe even got some favors owed to me.” Trips was balanced on his shoulder with only one leg, the other two folded in front of it, the pose they’d both practiced to complete step two, projecting a disinterested yet dominant position.
“Oh, you’re being weird again,” Pete shook his head and went back to work at one of the tables.
“And you know what all those people say?” Hunter moved to the other side of the table and leaned forward as he continued. “They all say you’re the best tech guy in town.” Step three, flattery, was complete this is going so well.
“Ok,” was the reply, and Hunter waited until he realized that was all Pete was going to say.
Step four was the sticking point to the whole plan, and he was already off course, but Hunter went for it anyway, baiting the hook and waiting for Pete to bite.
“Except,” he said, stretching it out, “I want the best piece of tech money can buy, and I’m not convinced you’re the guy.”
“Kid,” Pete said with a shake of his head is it working I can’t tell, “if you want me to make you something, just come out and tell me. Not whatever this is.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I want,” Hunter nodded success, while Trips bounced excitedly to the side of his head.
“Well?”
“Oh, right,” Hunter blushed as he continued, “Umm, I want a meditation focus, but I think I need too many features to go out and buy a regular one.”
“Custom’s where it’s at anyway. One size fits all doesn’t fit anyone great, that’s the rule. And I gotta say, that’s a good idea, you do meditate an awful lot. Like, a disturbing amount of it.”
“Hey, umm,” he mumbled, “so here’s my budget.”
Hunter had just recently figured out where all the crystallized essence he earned had been going, or at least how to access it, and with a flick of his wrists, his life savings appeared on the table, in the form of two large crystals, seven medium, and a very large number of small ones. He still didn’t really know how much anything was worth, or how the different sizes converted to each other, but he figured this was a lot.
Pete nodded as he glanced down at the pile, then leaned back in his seat, “So, what’re the specs?”
“Ok, umm. So, as strong as you can make it. I’m running three-three and two-three factors in combat and they’re not cutting it. Pie in the sky I’d want a four-nine in affinity, at the least. Hard filtered, I don’t need to waste any on resilience. Two to one A to V I figure, unless you can get better total numbers out of three to two. Gonna have to be a peripheral floater because I don’t plan on having my hands free, and I move pretty quick so it’ll have to as well. Oh, and like, make it cool-looking?”
Pete whistled low for a moment, then looked from Hunter down to the essence and back up. He drummed the fingers of one hand against the other arm, then nodded.
“Ok, I can do it. Don’t know if I can promise an extra one-six on a floater but I can sure try. Now, this is going to look pricey, but I’m doing it at cost. Ask your uncle if you don’t believe me,” he said, before reaching out to take one of the large crystals. “This one’s for materials,” then he grabbed one of the mediums, “and this one will be the regenerating power source.”
“Oh, right!” Hunter said as he grinned. “And I want eighty percent uptime. You said it, I meditate a disturbing amount.”
Pete grunted, took another medium crystal, and said, “Gimme a week.”
----------------------------------------
The city was hot as the peak of summer approached. There was something about all the asphalt, the concrete, the tall buildings interfering with any kind of cool breeze, that made Hunter feel cranky. The college didn’t bother giving a summer vacation, so Ajit was almost never free to hang out, Kiki had left on one of zher annual trips to a cooler climate for the season, and the members of Fourex were staying busy preparing for a Source excursion they had scheduled.
All of this, Hunter reflected, looked and felt like a prime opportunity to do something really stupid, but he was resisting that creeping urge. He found himself one day sitting on a ledge about twenty stories up, staring across the river toward the cratered remains of what was previously North Kansas City, kicking one heel repeatedly against the building, and he knew he was in trouble.
“There’s tons of live ordnance out there,” he said, and it didn’t matter.
“Those cloaked robots can wait for years before they activate,” he said, and that didn’t matter either.
“It’s not like there’s any treasure, it was just a merc megacorp trying to set up a base,” he said, and it still didn’t matter. He wanted to go out there, even though every single cogent thought and gut instinct was telling him what a bad so bad idea it was.
“I have got to get out of here,” he said, and while it didn’t matter, he knew it was what he had to do, before he did something else.
“One more thing, though,” he muttered as he pushed himself up to his feet. He and Trips had taken roughly a hundred, maybe a hundred and fifty holopics of mural pieces around the city, and while he didn’t know his exact progress, he had a feeling he was pretty close to completing at least one picture. Hunter wasn’t exactly invested in it as anything other than an exercise, but it just felt right to at least see one of these mysterious images in its entirety.
He closed his eyes briefly, regaining the bit of focus he’d lost when he was distracted by the battlefield view, and then nodded to himself ok got it. There was a drainpipe about eight feet away from the end of his concrete ledge, and with a good two steps build up he leapt over to it, catching a sneaker and a bandaged hand on it and flipping himself upward. The next floor had the remains of a fire escape partially attached, which he caught the bottom of and shimmied up the outside while it creaked ominously. At the top and about two windows over, a two foot wide gash in the building had caved in, leaving a very unsafe looking pile of rubble leading all the way to the top. He made it to the crevice with a hop from one broken ledge to another, catching a handhole and wedging himself in at the last moment, panting less from the exertion than from the rush.
When he made it to the top, there was indeed a splash of bright paint, and Trips hopped off his shoulder to go snap a picture.
You have discovered a [Piece of an Arax Mural], and received essence for a trivial exploration feat.
You have discovered all of [Arax Mural C] (75/75), and received essence for a moderate exploration feat.
WARNING: your raw essence gain has been artificially restricted by [Debt-Bonder X-09], an Infratech device.
You have been credited two (2) small and three (3) large essence crystals into your currency account.
[Arax Mural C] can be assembled and viewed now. Would you like to proceed? Y/N
“Huh,” he said under his breath yes.
A window opened in his Infra, swirling with all the pinks and yellows and greens he’d seen while collecting the photos, and he watched the screen grow larger with every piece it slotted in. He only realized how disconcerting it was that the mural was nearing life-size while still moving when he discovered he’d fallen to a seated position while staring.
It started to thrum gently, or that might have been the blood pumping in his ears, as the last puzzle pieces found their places and the window formed a complete square, about twenty feet on a side, and somehow still contained in the not-space of Infra. Hunter couldn’t quite make out what it was, until the top of the screen flashed “Calculating…” and bits and pieces of the image began to transform oh it was a code.
There was a deeper noise, this time definitely from the painting, or at least the screen, a muted foghorn kind of sound, as entire strips of different colors emerged from the mural, no longer bright and eye-searing. Hunter stretched out on the rough surface of the strange roof and convinced himself to relax, and to keep his eyes open, because the shifting patterns and insistent noise seemed to grow worse when he shut them.
Finally, the screen blinked “Calculating… complete” and Hunter took a look at one part of what a lone Arax had probably spent years of zher life on. It wasn’t what he was expecting, it wasn’t a joke or a prank or something pointless like that. It was simple, and straightforward, and not at all what one would expect from an Arax graffiti artist. That made it, probably, even more subversive to whoever painted it.
This is what Hunter saw:
A girl. A young girl, holding her mother’s hand. A girl on a street corner that could have been anywhere in the world, but it didn’t exist anymore. A girl wearing nice clothes, shoes that were shiny for some reason, a girl with her hair done, puffed out on the sides into perfect spheres.
A sidewalk, unbroken, that a young girl stood on. Concrete that hadn’t been pried up, hadn’t been hurled in anger. Glass panes, still whole and reflective, showing a young girl from behind. A car at the edge of the frame, glossy and blue and not a rusting piece of steel. A city that was here once, and no longer truly was, and a closeup of a girl in it.
A mother, her expression shifting, clutching a young girl’s hand, pulling her back. A mother, treating her child to a day out in the city, or maybe taking her to school, or just out for no reason. A mother in a city that now lacks for them, a world that lacks for them. A mother who could be anywhere now, but in that moment, that moment that doesn’t exist except as a puzzle and a code, in that moment was here.
A girl, so young, certainly not 7-55, almost certainly about to enter a world poised against her. A girl with little heels on her buckled shoes that would keep her from running as fast as she could. A girl with such lovely hair that she’d have to tie back, hack off, get rid of to keep from having something for monsters to grab. A girl in a nice dress who wasn’t going to have too many more days where she could wear her nice things.
A girl, looking directly at the artist, at the audience, at Hunter. A girl whose eyes he could almost meet, even if it was likely he would never meet her. A girl who had a glimpse of another world, who looked at it head-on, eyes wide. A girl with a smile on her face. A girl who saw something and thought it was interesting. A girl who thought that it couldn’t be too bad. A girl who was wrong.
A message, at the bottom of the image. Looping, elegant Infrascript, translated into five words. “We’re sorry. We’re so sorry.” A message from an artist. A portrait of a young girl at the last moment of the old Earth. A plea from an artist. A girl, that was, that isn’t, that won’t ever be again.
When he finally managed to close the window, to wipe the tears from his face, Hunter made his way back home in silence.
----------------------------------------
“Hey, Uncle Ernie,” Hunter said as he found him at breakfast one morning, “I was thinking-
“That you’ve learned just about all you can from us, and you want to get out of town before you start feeling penned in?”
“Well,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his head, “I wasn’t going to put it that way, but kinda? I love it here with you guys, but I’m starting to feel stuck.”
“It was only supposed to be a couple months, kid. Don’t feel bad that you’re ready to go. So, let me see your info sheet. The full thing, so I can send you home with notes.”
Hunter granted his uncle permission, and then took a look at it himself, because it’d been a while since he actually did more than scan a section or two.
Name: Hunter Redsmith Species: Human Age: 16.3 Level: 1 Tier: Mortal Division: Beginner Path: Truth Seeker Class: N/A Mod: N/A
Resilience: 116/116 Affinity: 23/23 Vigor: 113/113 Strength: 13 Knowledge: 10 Charisma: 10 Agility: 13 Intelligence: 10 Wit: 10 Toughness: 16 Willpower: 13 Drive: 13 Luck: +10/-5
Water Affinity Infratech Evocation: 45/100 Infusion: 76/100 Essence Physics: 10/100 Fundamental Math: 8/100 Follower of Wisp Devilborn Soft Style Guidance: 92/100 Protection: 87/100 Dodge: 100/200 Parry: 100/200 Staff Fighting: 100/200 Touch Attack: 100/200 Zen Runner Explorer Other Paths Athletics: 133/200 Awareness: 111/200 Farming: 45/100 Mechanics: 20/100 Meditation: 150/200 Stealth: 95/200
Family Tradition Combination Ace Oncoming Storm Heads Up Wily Opponent Dodge Expert Deft Hands Opportunist Defensive Art Practiced Parry Parry Expert Hard to Hit Flurry Wall Breath Training Combat Trance Kinesthesia Escape Genius Staff Channel
Rising Tide Water Burst A Light to Follow Flickering Form
Secret Knowledge Quick Learner IV Skilled III Young Expert Headstart III Four-fold Path
“Ugh,” Hunter muttered, “they sure stick a lot of stuff in there.”
“So, two questions before I comment.”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“One, mechanics? And two, how did you actually lose a point in a skill? I don’t think I’ve ever seen that.”
“Oh, umm,” he mumbled in reply. “After the tech diagram fiasco, I tried one more time. Just fixing things, seeing if I could trick myself into a skill. Didn’t work, but Infra says I could make a job out of it, if I wanted. And the other thing? Umm, guess I got reassessed or I just puked up a whole skill point.”
“Ok, guess that makes sense, kid. I honestly don’t have any notes, you seem like you know what you’re doing. So, when are you going to port out?”
“Umm,” he said, an embarrassed grin on his face, “I checked the prices for transport, with all of my weird stuff? I think I’m going to walk. I bought a neat little sleeping bag tent thingy, and a box that stores way more food than it looks like it does. Plus I can make my own water.”
“That’s,” Ernie paused to think, “actually not a bad idea. See what’s out there, or at least a little bit of it. If you can’t handle a three day walk home, then I don’t know what the last couple months was for. Just avoid Topeka, I’m sure you’ve heard that before.” He paused, arms folded, and really look at look at Hunter before continuing, “Well, hmm. You’re officially graduated then, kid. Guess you can hand back over the bonder.”
“Oh, the armband, umm,” the grin turning into a full blush, “I was hoping I could keep it? I got kind of a plan, maybe?”
“I don’t think I’m going to like the sound of this, but what’s the plan?”
“Well, you remember my favorite part of the Festival last year? The one you had to convince Mom to let me go see? The one I didn’t even know existed for the first two of them?”
“Really? I don’t think-”
Hunter interrupted him and explained his plan, in intricate, confusing detail. He even showed his uncle the extensive notes he’d made, the pros and cons lists, and a few silly drawings he thought added to his case. All in all, the teen thought, he’d laid out a very convincing argument, and he didn’t even need to use his expert negotiating skills once.
“Ok ok,” Ernie said, “Worst case scenario, it doesn’t work, you just move on. Huh. You know it’s not all a numbers game though, right? You’re going to need to come back here and let me drill you on the intangibles at some point. Deal?”
“Deal,” Hunter said, and they shook on it.
He finished packing that night, and in the morning, Hunter left for his birthplace, his home, the Willard redoubt.