I Have the User Manual, Can I please Call Tech Support?
Declan stood in the Launch Bay. He was holding a large leather bound book that had the words “How to Apocalypse” etched on the front cover in large gold gothic styled lettering. He had his HUD open and was tapping on its screen periodically. The book was open about halfway, and its size was making his one-handed grip on it tenuous at best. He was currently scanning through the APOC costs that he now had to apply to each event that he initiated. The prices were daunting.
“So,” he said to Kristine as she hovered just behind his left ear, “I earn APOC points when I end a world. I earn more depending on how creative I am, and less if I just rehash something or don’t use any type of imagination?”
She revved her engine in an Mmhmm manner. Sometimes he wondered if she wasn’t becoming more car-like as the days wore on. She never made such sound when she was transporting him around physically as just his car. She had made the transition from being a means of conveyance to companion fairly well, though, so he didn’t hold her idiosyncrasies against her. He owed her that much. “I don’t understand why you don’t just have Mother download the information into your head directly, Deck. It would make things much easier.” He side-eyed her, knowing that she was just saying that for Mother’s benefit. Not his. They had talked this over via his HUD so that Mother could not follow their conversation. Kristine was supposed to play the Devil’s Advocate for the Artificial Intelligence that was their overseer. In that capacity, she could keep Mother’s guard down in regards to the car.
He shrugged, “Maybe, but I don’t want to rely on the Headnet for everything. I remember when our world was destroyed and I was on the Invigilator’s homeworld. I was completely lost and disoriented without it. Dependency breeds complacency, and complacency leads to failure. In this business that means my death. I need to actually learn things on my own.” That was the story they’d come up with to work as an excuse when Mother tried to convince him to let her into his head.
“So what are you working on?”
One corner of his lip scrunched into a frown. “I’m trying to figure out these Apoc points. I know I earn them through creative application of my apocalypses, but I am having a hard time figuring out what makes the cost go up or down.”
He turned a page, then flipped back to where he was and began run his fingers over a paragraph. “What it says here is that certain events will initiate a higher point cost than normal. A simple apocalypse will cost one point to initiate, but it never really says what the events are that will cause that price to rise.”
Kristine began circling his head, “It does say it later on, but I’ll condense it for you if you like, and then you can go and read what I am talking about.” Declan raised an eyebrow, “Okay, he said optimistically, “Fill me in on what I’m missing.”
The car came to a stop in front of him. “Honestly, most of the stuff you’ve done so far is a part of the high point cost. For example, bringing in an extra-planetary object, such as a meteor, moon, or sun, will cost you one to three points depending on the object’s size. Start at one for the meteor and go up to three for the sun. Bigger objects just cost more. Multiple meteors, regardless of how many, would be a two. Temporal alterations will automatically cost no less than three points and will increase the further back in time that you go to initiate your apocalypse. A month from the current time would add one point, and a point per month after that. More than one event, such as mixing a plague, volcanic eruption, an earthquake would be a single point for each apocalypse that you choose.”
Declan sucked air in through his teeth, “Damn, that means that I need to couch the Apoc points that I get to use for when I’m in really dire situations.” He flipped through the book until he got to Expy uses. “So, each apocalypse will provide me with Apoc points now, as well as Expy. What do I do with the Expy?”
The car shifted into her humanoid guise, a freckled redhead shimmering to life before him. “The Expy,” she said, “can be used for multiple things. You can use it to upgrade yourself via increasing your attributes, you can add powers such as flight to your abilities, or you can save them to buy Apoc points. Current store prices are one Apoc point per one hundred thousand Expy. Prices may change at any time.”
He looked her in the eyes, feeling a bit more comfortable now that she wasn’t circling his head as she was wont to do. “Why would the prices change?”
She raised a warning finger, “They will depend on the Invigilators mood with you. How he feels about your job performance. Right now prices are neutral since he really isn’t happy or upset with you, but make him angry and the prices will soar, conversely, a happy Invigilator means much lower prices for you.” He nodded in understanding.
Declan glanced back at the book, and it now made a lot more sense to him. It behooved him to be creative, so he could earn extra Expy and Apoc points, as well as keeping the rarely seen alien overlord happy so he could spend his earnings wisely. Now the question came up as to whether he should hoard his earnings for when he needed them or spend them for upgrades on himself. That off-handed remark about flying intrigued him. He couldn’t wait to get into the store and see what other abilities it offered him.
“This is pretty great,” he said as he closed the book. This means that when I actually come across one of these worlds that have a preset apocalypse code I won’t have to do much to set the chain of dominos falling. Turn a key, and boof! I create a predetermined apocalypse without having to spend any points, but still managing to accrue the basic points I would get for having done it all myself.”
Kristine stepped in and spoke, "Actually, having a preset Apocalypse could make things even more difficult for you. Imagine if the key goes something along the lines of, When Hell is full, then the dead shall walk the earth. That would mean that you, personally would have to fill Hell with enough souls that the dead could rise and walk. How would you know when you'd killed enough sinners? How would you manage to kill them and do it in time for the deadline to be met?” She paused and let that sink in.
“Additionally, you cannot access your HUD on a preset world. The HUD is something that you use to create an unstoppable Armageddon. You cannot use it to initiate anything else. For example, if a Tsunami is required to wash over a specific village to begin the end of that world you can’t just punch in a tidal wave crushes the village. You,” and she emphasized that word, “You have to figure out how to create a tidal wave and make it strike that little village. If you could just punch in something on your screen then the keys wouldn’t be relevant at all, and they are. You cannot avoid them, or circumvent them with the application of your apocalypse generator.” She took him by the hand, “Look,” she said, and a cartoon styled plunger box with the letters TNT stenciled on the side appeared on the floor before them.
“Open your heads up display, and tell the plunger to depress itself, without using the AGen.” She had just used the term he’d come up with to refer to the Apocalypse Generator. It made him happy that she was using his terminology. She continued, “It won’t work. You cannot make that thing activate from here. You need to go over and do it yourself.” Before she could say anything else, Second Sarah came into the bay with the other girls. They were all drinking coffees and chatting amongst themselves. The group went off in a corner to continue their conversation, but Sarah number two strolled over, pushed the plunger, and sat down on the box. “What are you two up to,” she asked with a grin.
Declan stuck the book under his armpit, covering the title. “Just trying to figure some things out. What are you doing?” She shrugged, “Nothing, just bored. We thought we’d come down and check on you. You’ve been a sort of absentee landlord the last few days. We haven’t seen much of you. We wanted to make sure that you were all right, and I wanted to find out if you were up for another viewing of the Princess Bride. I told the others about it, and they are itching to watch it with us.”
He glanced over at the Sarah Squad, they were all sipping on their version of Bucky Starr’s coffee in carry out cups. Essea was walking along balancing her drink on her head. Countess Sarah, as the vampire was getting to be known, was sitting on the back of Sarahtaur. Crowe and Rah were giggling about something, and it warmed his heart to see that warrior maiden actually laughing. There was no doubt that her time on her Earth had scarred her mentally. Her sanity had been strained, and nearly snapped according to Mother’s diagnosis. Thankfully through the use of meds and subliminal counseling therapies via her newly implanted Hnet she was doing much better. He also suspected that her trips planet-side had helped her mental health a good bit too. Dishing it out rather than always taking it always improved one’s spirits.
He noted that now that she was cleaned up she was even prettier than before. Her hair was short, all but shaved on the sides with an almost Mohawk running on the top of her head, but it fit her fierce attitude. Unfortunately, she still refused to wear a top of any kind and only covered herself with her crossed bandoleers. She had moved her holsters to behind her back after seeing where he had carried his weapon. She was still in the bikini bottoms and knee-high boots, which cemented her into the scary but attractive category. Maybe she was in the scarily attractive category. He couldn’t tell, but it was nice to see her interacting in a “normal way”.
Crowe and Rah had become close, which had surprised him. He would have envisioned Countess or Sarahtaur before Rah, but Rah, it seemed, had a lot more grit than one might expect from a bunny. Like Crowe, she still insisted on wearing her showgirl attire. Again, it was both attractive and distracting. He’d never even seen his Sarah in her underwear. They had both been waiting for marriage. Now he was ensconced in caring for two mostly naked versions of the woman he loved and he had no choice but to grin and bear it. Each world came with different values, and Terra Sarah, the name he had decided for their shared world, respected each and every belief, no matter how alien they seemed to him. The fact that it drove him insane made no difference. Maybe he could ask Mother if she could install some modesty blockers in his head so that instead of the girl’s assets he just saw black squares over the exposed areas. That might help. Unfortunately, that would mean letting Mother into his Headnet, and that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
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Crowe looked to be telling a story about her time on her homeworld; a fishing story from what he could tell from her pantomime, and just as it seemed she had gotten to the part about the fish’s size she stretched out her arms and Essea walked into her hand holding the coffee. Crowe looked shocked, then looked at the spilled cup on the floor and drew her gun. She began yelling at the cyborg but did not point the weapon at her. He and the others had long ago that she pulled her gun whenever she was frustrated or scared. It was more of a security blanket for her than it was a threat to Essea.
He was impressed by how none of them even batted an eye at the desert warrior. Sarahtaur was right beside her and was struggling not to laugh, while the Countess, who was still in an all too revealing dress that was less of a v-cut that showed her ample cleavage to being a capital V-cut that ran dangerously from her bosom to something a certain redshirted bear would be sure to get his hand stuck in. What was the term? Ah, yes, her honeypot.
He averted his eyes. Declan was certain that this iteration of Sarah was a nudist who just hadn’t closed her dressing closet yet. Sarahtaur at least wore a woman’s running tank and green cloth jacket with white stripes down the length of the arms. Her “assets” might be on display, but that felt more acceptable somehow. In mere moments the entire event had cooled off. Essea had turned her coffee over to Crowe, and the cleaning mechs did their job and mopped up the spilled mocha. He idly wondered where the other Sarah’s were. He assumed that Silent Sarah, as the mime was getting to be known, was with Vegan Sarah, who refused to be around Countess on principle. Triggered Sarah, who was from an overly political world that he had wiped out was probably arguing with Conservative Sarah, and he had learned to keep out of their way. Conservative Sarah had come from a place very similar to Triggered Sarah but had leaned the other way politically. He suspected that the Invigilator had only sent him there to cause him problems as those two fed off each other like a snake eating its own tail. Both of those worlds had been quick in and out deals, he hadn’t needed to fight any cultists or battle rampaging monsters. He’d just set down, gotten his Sarah, and wiped out everybody there.
They all continued on as if nothing had happened. The gun was slipped back into its holster and the fish tale continued. It was like watching a fragmented mind unify into a gestalt before his eyes. He looked back at Second Sarah. She was the exception. She was solid, level headed and had her act together. The others all had their own ticks and quirks, but not Sarah the sequel.
She was just like his own Sarah; so down to earth, so compassionate, and understanding. They had shared a bed every night since that evening after he’d come back with the Countess, and she’d comforted him and given him his space, but she had never made a move. She knew he was in mourning and that he only wanted his Sarah back, and he respected her for her resolve. The last few weeks had been nice as they had gotten to know one another. He had loved introducing her to the Princess Bride, his favorite movie and she had shown him several things that his alternate-self had loved that he’d never thought of trying.
The biggest issue he had was when Mother had installed Headnet into each of them, and in addition to Crowe’s psychotherapy she had also made them not only aware of what his actual task was, but that she had manipulated them into not only being ok with it but actually going so far as to have them cheer him on for his efforts in destroying their worlds and the ones were to follow. Brainwashing left a bad taste in his mouth. He wanted nothing to do with it, and had ordered the A.I. to undo what it had but, but it refused. Mother had felt that she had done the best thing she could have for him. She had also refused to stop the practice, having made Silent Sarah, Triggered Sarah, and Conservative Sarah into converts of his minutes after their arrival.
I chilled him to his core, as he knew that she had done the same thing to him. She had made him perfectly comfortable in ending billions of lives. Even now he didn’t have a tinge of guilt when he knew he should have, but it was Second Sarah’s conversion that bothered him more than his own modifications. She had been vehement in her fury over her world’s death and now it didn’t seem to faze her. She had been lobotomized. That was why he’d hidden the book title under his arm when she appeared because he was embarrassed to let her see what he was working on. He respected her real feelings too much to flaunt his work in her face. “Give me a minute,” he said to her.
Kristine looked almost as uncomfortable as he felt. He nodded to her to continue. “The Apoc Generator won’t give you nuclear access codes or allow you to create a Kaiju to stomp the blasphemers to death. That part only comes if there is no set apocalypse for the planet. So, on a pre-industrial world how would you fill up hell? It would be an understatement to say that it would be difficult to achieve something along those lines because it is something that would be almost impossible to succeed at."
Mother chimed in from "This is not something that you can take lightly, your life, all of our lives, depend wholly on your unfettered success. You need to stop acting as though this is trivial. We are all that is left of your world. I contain all of the accumulated knowledge of your society. If I am erased then everything about our world will vanish as if it never was. The two of us represent the genetic and technological pinnacle that your/our world could produce. You must take this seriously. The Invigilator is not a being to be trifled with, and I have no doubt that he will make good on his threats. You are little more than a germ to him. You are an ameba, and amoebas are everywhere. He can replace you in an instant.”
“Do I look like I am not taking this seriously? This isn’t just about you and me any more Mother.” He threw his hands up in frustration, his book fell from his arm, but Kristine caught it and brought it to her bosom protectively. “My actions also dictate as to whether these women around me live or die. There are people that I brought back from some of those worlds. They are counting on me as well. I am doing my best to get a handle on how to do this job, but if you think bullying me or scaring me will work then you are wrong.”
Mother’s retort almost registered as harsh. “If you are so concerned with success why do you simply not allow me to download the knowledge of the ancient art of apocalypting directly into your cerebral cortex? It would eliminate all of this prep time and you would be adept at doing what you need to do.”
Declan didn’t realize how much he had raised his voice or that it had all but turned into a snarl as he spat, “Because I can’t risk becoming too dependent on frequent uploads whenever I’m in a bind. I need to know what I am doing from actually learning the craft, not just being told how to do it.” He took a deep breath, “My actually learning this on my own might give me some insight that I wouldn’t get if I just knew it all instantly.”
The feminine voice seemed calmer now, “Declan when you awoke last week I explained that the Invigilator had been most generous in allowing you an opportunity to get to know your powers. Those last worlds were an opportunity for you to stretch your wings and see just how far you could fly. His bounteous nature has faded, and you have been reigned in. The entire system is extremely complex, and you grasp about a tenth of it. I see no reason for you to not accept my help and download this vital information. Your reaction is based on an emotional reflex. It serves no purpose but to hinder our cause.”
There it was. He was throwing a tantrum while everyone else was depending on him to take care of them. He couldn’t have Terra Sarah if they died. He sighed. He hadn’t used Hnet that way in years, not since college and even then he’d done so only minimally. He’d always preferred to learn on his own. He was still certain that just downloading knowledge whenever he could would just get him into more trouble later on. It didn’t hurt that he knew that all she wanted to do was to get inside his brain and rewire it so that he’d be a good little soldier for the Invigilator. He looked at Kristine, and she gave him a very slight nod. That meant that he should allow the overbearing A.I. into his head because she finally had a filter that would work. Knowing her she’d probably just finished it. He shut his eyes and grit his teeth together.
“Very well, Mother. Upload the information as you see fit for this, I want to survive and knowing how to expend points will be very beneficial to that end.” He acted as if he’d given up like there was just no fighting her. That, too, was an act that he and Kristine had come up with for Mother’s benefit.
“Mother is always right, Declan.”
He wanted to tell her to cram her smug sapient face into a coffee can, they had plenty of those lying around, but he didn’t. Getting her mad would serve no purpose and right now he had to foc....Ugh. He nearly dropped to his knees as all the information he’d been fighting about suddenly filled his mind. The rules, the point systems, the end goal of the whole thing formed in his brain in seconds. It was a lot of information to take in all at once, but he dealt with it. Minutes later he was feeling better. That was odd, as he realized that the entire process should have only taken a few seconds. Then he realized, it had taken longer because of Kristine’s filtering process.
He mentally reviewed everything he had just learned. One thing that caught his attention was his inventory. His HUD leaped before his face without him even having to call for it. He saw that the inventory held twenty slots. Each slot could hold one item or ten identical items which would stack up on each other. He could place anything that he could hold with one hand into his inventory, it didn’t matter how large it was; he just had to be able to grip it. Once he had a grip on it the item would instantly pop into the next available inventory slot. To retrieve it he needed only open the inventory screen and then think of what he wanted to get. It would then appear in his hand. Nothing could be taken from his inventory by an outsider, nor could they see what he held therein. He was surprised to see that he could even place living things inside, but they could only survive for twenty-four hours before they died. They could be removed prior to that time limit, and then placed right back in with no negative side effects, but leaving them inside too long would prove utterly fatal.
Then he realized that he’d known that, and had actually used his inventory before. How had he forgotten that? He checked it, and the Geneers were gone. There was no trace of them at all.
Without even thinking about it he placed his “How to Apocalypse” guidebook into the first slot of his inventory. Partially because he wanted to test the system out, and partially because he wanted to preserve the book; items in the inventory could not be destroyed. He looked at the girls and smiled. He now had a way to protect himself from Mother. Next, he would work on getting them safeguards from the rogue A.I.’s manipulative machinations. Things were finally falling into place.