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Chapter 8

He’d already resolved to pull out his synergies to win this competition, just enough to impress the judges. But if he wanted to impress Trey Oberon, maybe he’d have to show that he had even more up cards up his sleeve.

He wasn’t too worried about introducing new synergies to the market. He had absolutely no doubt that whatever he submitted would be analyzed and copied for the Oberon artisans to use to their hearts content.

But it would take some time before they proliferated through the market. And he was willing to bet that he’d only need to use a fraction of what he’d been discovering over the last few years to get through the competition. The promise of more would probably be worth Trey’s interest.

He suddenly felt a lot more confident about how his odds at success, now that the conditions of success had just expanded.

He might even be able to gain a contract with Oberon Enterprises that was entirely in his favor. A full lab, as many assistants as he wanted, an endless supply of batteries, and full creative freedom seemed a bit less far fetched as it had earlier.

And a direct line to high-level Oberon staff, who he would have to ingratiate himself to, but it would be worth it if he could eventually walk across unexplored worlds.

“You’re funny, kid. I like you,” Jimmy said, toasting the wine he ordered with his steak.

Its 9am, Hunter thought, who drinks wine at 9am?

They parted ways soon after, but before they did, Jimmy had one more word of warning for him. He confirmed that Hunter would be safe so long as he was competing— but Trey wasn’t invested in Hunter’s future anymore. All that meant to Hunter was that he would have to convince Trey that he’d be worth an investment. His low affinity, and relatively awful preliminary test score wouldn’t work well in his favor. Winning a round or two wouldn’t do much to impress him either.

Jimmy would do what he could, but once word got out that Hunter was competing, the rest of the council would find out. They would hear that Gideon Koar’s son was in attendance, and old ambitions might be renewed. The chance that they could get their hands on something that Gideon left behind was what made Hunter a target. Demonstrating synergies might be considered-- in the eyes of the Council-- something that Gideon left behind.

It wasn’t, but would the Council know that? Of course not.

Hunter made his way back to his suite, thinking about what might have changed for him after his conversation with Jimmy. He wanted to plan further, but there was too much he didn’t know. He figured he could probably pass the first round without using any of his refined glyphs, but he would be willing to stretch the use of syntax a bit in order to gain a small advantage.

How much he revealed in the next two rounds would depend entirely on what he was up against, and he couldn’t see any way around having to use his synergies. If he was going to compete against teams of 3 or 4 people, all of whom had affinity ratings that were almost 4 times higher than his, the brainpower and speed with which they would be able to work with was something that he wouldn’t be able to compete against.

Synergies were the only way. His prized possessions would finally have a time to shine, but it wasn’t the way he’d envisioned it. He thanked himself for his foresight which led him to bring his third arm. It wasn’t much, but it would probably be the deciding factor in finishing some key components in the competition to come.

He briefly wondered how he might be able to improve the arm before the competition, but it would take too long to brainstorm, design, and then craft the end result. He was content with what he had, though. He’d made it just about two years ago, and had grown accustomed to it the way it was. But it was a project he was interested in pursuing at a later date, after he’d won this competition. He wondered if he could create something for people who didn’t have his handicap. What would the arm be like if it was meant to assist a normal artisan? He imagined he could add glyphs to assist with heavier workloads, as well as hire someone to design some electrical systems that would be able to help carve out popular glyphs and channel patterns. He could also have a custom arm for himself, coded to assist with his synergies.

Personal computers had been around for a few years, and Hunter had always wanted to grab one for himself. He’d browsed for one once, and one of the most expensive ones he’d seen was over 6000 credits. But the things he could do with 10 megabytes of hard disk memory, 60 kilobytes of ram, and a 16 bit processor were staggering. The amount of complex calculations that computer could do were mind-blowing to consider. He could even code his synergy tables into it, making the process of planning and designing much faster. He had heard that computation technology was advancing, but how they would improve on those specs without creating an even bigger computer was beyond his ability to imagine. He just didn’t know enough about the field to understand what kind of tech wizardry was going on in those R&D departments involved in making these masterpieces of the modern age.

But for now, Hunter was going to have to be content with what he had. His third arm was basically a wooden contraption that he could attach to a bench and hold his tools, or the construct, in place. Freehand soldering usually caused his hand to tremble slightly, which could be detrimental to the final product. It wasn’t so bad if he was doing quick fixes at a jobsite, but when he was redesigning or upgrading a construct entirely, the ability to use his hands to move the construct while the arm held the drawstone-solder was a lifesaver. It allowed his final work to be just as precise, if not more precise, than any other artisan.

It could also hold a battery out of the way, keeping the attached wires vertical, enabling more freedom of movement, and he’d be able to work with some trickier angles than he would have been able to do without the arms assistance. Joyce had said that they wouldn’t just judge the creativity and output of a construct, the ‘expert touch’ she mentioned would imply that they would look for clean and elegant work, which meant the third arm was an absolute necessity. He was going to catch some attention, brining it in with him, but that was always going to be the case. Word would have gotten around by now about David Nettle and his team’s conversation. Whether they realized he was actually Gideon Koar’s son or not would be irrelevant. Anyone with the name Koar would be drawing attention to themselves in a competition like this.

He thought back to his affinity result. How incredibly bittersweet. His affinity had finally risen, and it had only taken over a decade to make him slightly more suited towards Artisanry than the average toddler.

Five.

Pathetic, yet encouraging.

It was one of those symbols his father was always so fond of. Most would see it as a curse, and Hunter would agree.

But today, ‘five’ didn’t just mean weakness, it meant growth.

It meant having more of a chance than he thought he had the day before.

So he would carry in his wooden arm, his batteries, and his custom tools, with his head held as high as he could for as long as he could.

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Hunter had heard the phrase famous last words before, but he’d always considered himself beyond it.

Carrying the arm, the batteries, and the custom tools had been challenging. Keeping his head held high was proving to be impossible. He had to stop every 30 or 40 yards to take a break. By the time he had made it to the stadium, he was sweating. He’d asked for assistance once he actually made it to the stadium, since at that point he’d realized that his goal of projecting confidence was going to have to wait. He’d have to ask if he could leave his stuff at the stadium overnight. Who he’d ask, he had no idea. He’d figure it out. If not, then he would only have to worry about carrying this stuff around for today and tomorrow. It was a small comfort.

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The stadium was much more active than it had been the day before. Not as packed as it would have been if there were a sporting event going on, but the amount of people was still intimidating to him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen more than a couple of hundred people in the same place all at once. It wondered how that might affect how he performed. Was there such a thing as performance anxiety when creating constructs?

He’d never really been in front of a large crowd, save the gathered teams he’d had to endure being humiliated in front of the day before. There had also been his last day he’d attended school, which had mirrored the previous day quite similarly, only without all of his closest ‘friends’ looking at him like he had just grown three more eyes and sprouted gills. The sense of rejection, of betrayal, and utter loneliness was something that Hunter had never encounter before.

It was easy to ignore at this point, and he barely noticed it after he’d left the registration room. Jimmy had proven a sufficient distraction. Hunter felt better that Jimmy was around, watching the competition. The assurance that Trey Oberon would be watching how the competition unfolded had done a lot of soothe Hunter’s anxieties about how this would all turn out. His fate felt a bit less uncertain, even if the specific direction it would take after the competition was still to be decided, so Hunter was going to go all out. His future was worth the effort.

Whatever Oberon, or the rest of the world gained from the the work he revealed today, they could have it. It would be the cost he’d pay to secure his dreams. And there would always be more synergies, Hunter imagined. He wasn’t quite sure how he knew, but he intuited that he was barely scratching the surface of what etherium had to offer. It was just one of those feelings he got whenever etherium was concerned.

He was excited about the future. He let that excitement keep his mood high as he was escorted out to the assembly point for all of the contestants. He had imagined that the stadium would be covered in turf, but they’d apparently gotten rid of it for the day, covering the concrete ground in carpet. He couldn’t tell if the entire floor was carpeted, as only half of the the arena was visible, which seemed ample room for the 50 workbenches which had been set up. Hunter was led to a workbench, and ignored the looks all the other teams were giving him.

His workbench was near the middle of the bunch, which made him feel more visible to the other teams yet less visible to the crowd, even though the crowd would be elevated. The gathered spectators only seemed to take up a quarter of the available seats, the closest of which were situated just above the entrance where Hunter had emerged from.

Hunter took the time to set up his arm, and a messenger came to his workbench with a bag full of charged etherium batteries. Hunter sighed in relief. He’d wondered if they’d remembered. He’d thought about asking someone along the way, but he figured that the few that he’d brought himself would be more than enough for the first round. A test of the fundamentals wouldn’t be too ether-demanding, at least while he assembled the construct. As long as the construct didn’t demand anything over an affinity of 10, he was absolute confidence in advancing without making waves. Anymore than 10 and he’d have to start taking risks.

Soon, all of the teams were assembled. Hunter was still drawing gazes. David Nettle’s team was sneering and laughing as they’d passed each other, and another team near them had studied the object of their ridicule. Hunter could hear David informing them about his name and affinity. Hunter had caught a few looks from them, which varied from curiosity to mild disdain. Not that it mattered. Any of the other teams who recognized him from the affinity test either ignored him or gave him the same looks that he’d seen from David’s group, which only got worse after the batteries were dropped off and the arm was installed on his workbench.

“Hey, are you even allowed to use that?” Someone from the team nearest him asked. Hunter ignored them.

There wasn’t much else he needed to do in order to set up. He’d have to wait until the specifics of the round were announced. They would hand out relevant materials just prior. All he had to do was wait.

“Don’t ignore me, do they know that you’re using unapproved tools for the competition?”

Hunter shook his head. He was getting annoyed.

“They’re approved,” he said.

“Yeah, we’ll see,” the guys said, flagging a nearby attendant and pointing to Hunter, “Hey, I think he’s using unapproved tools.”

She approached Hunters workbench, and Hunter explained the situation. She checked one of the lists in her hand, referencing his workbench number and nodding again.

“It’s all been approved,” she said to the other team. Hunter didn’t bother watching their reactions. He didn’t care, but he did feel some satisfaction.

He silently thanked Joyce and the competitions organizers for letting their staff know about his situation. He imagined it would be a painful process explaining himself to everyone who raised a complaint.

A voice cut through the soft sea of voices as the teams were discussing amongst themselves.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the 10th annual Global Youth Artisan Competition, held in our great capital. We at Oberon Enterprise have fostered a deep passion for etherium. We’ve long prided ourselves on the advancements we have contributed to the field. Today, we celebrates the spirit of all the young men and women who have come to showcase that same passion to you now as they all compete for the coveted grand prize, a full team sponsorship to the Barnum Academy of Excellence, and 100 000 credits— a small investment towards a bright future for the victors who emerge today,” the announcer said. Her voice was rich and upbeat, he would have sworn it was pre-recorded if she wasn’t standing up a small stage just ahead of the assembled teams.

She addressed the crowd, rather than the teams, but she held everyone’s attention.

“As you all know, the competition will be held in three rounds. The first round will be a test of fundamental knowledge, as the teams will be tasked with designing and assembling an ether-battery from scratch. The specifics of the design will be up to them, but it will have to be designed for a construct with an affinity requirement of no less than 15, and no greater than 20. The battery will be stress tested for its maximum capacity and output, so make sure its built to last!”

Hunter groaned, but after some rapid thinking, he realized that it wouldn’t be too difficult. Ether batteries were pretty simple compared to some of the things he’d been expecting. And considering that it was just a battery, and not an entire construct, he’d have a bit more freedom with how he approached the project.

A construct with an affinity requirement of 15 and a battery that could output an affinity equivalent of 15 were two different things. It wouldn’t be his first time designing a battery. Some of the batteries he owned were ones that he’d upgraded with a few new features, but this time he’d be able to create one from scratch, which would mean it would work even better than the ones he’d modified, a couple of which were here with him today.

“The attendants will now be handing out your materials. You will have a maximum of 3 hours to design and assemble your batteries. Contestants, your current workbenches are the Oberon Standard Workbench which we would typically use in our own facilities. It comes equipped with all the tools you will need to machine the parts of your batteries. The handles on the left and right side of the bench can be pulled out.”

Hunter pulled out the drawers, surprised by how heavy they were for him. Most people wouldn’t have much trouble, but Hunter had to grunt a bit to get them open. He whistled when he saw their contents. A miniature lathe, a small hydraulic press, and a few precision machining tools for cutting and sanding materials were all provided on either side of the bench. Fortunately, Hunter had attached his arm to the backside of the workbench’s desk, so he didn’t have to move it to accommodate the machinery.

He did briefly wonder how they’d moved all of these benches in here in the first place. They must have had them driven in and placed with a bunch of ether-assisted tech. He knew that the the Council’s security forces had power suits that could help the user lift heavy objects, he wondered if they had industrial versions of those, or maybe an ether-assisted forklift.

Hunter had still wanted to get his hands on one of those. He’d yet to study the Lift glyph in depth, although he’d discovered his own variations of the Force and Reinforce glyphs during his research. Synergizing those glyphs with an improved network might not be as efficient as it would be to replace both of them with a single new glyph, however, and he wondered how the Lift glyph affected the rest of the network’s syntax.

A problem for another day, he mused, getting his tools ready and doing a final inspection of the machines attached to his desk. He would need to get his hands on one of these, eventually. He would add it to this list, probably before he got a personal computer. The teams were given 20 minutes to discuss their plan while a small army of attendants to handed out all of the material, with teams able to ask for specific materials to be added or taken away based on their planned design.

Hunter observed what he was given. He didn’t make any additional requests, the base materials he was given would be enough for what he had planned.

“Teams,” the announcer spoke once all the teams had received their share, “the first round of the competition starts now. Good luck!”

Hunter closed his eyes, took a deep breath, reviewed his plan.

He smiled.

This was what he was good at. Screw knowledge tests. This was practically his home. He didn’t have much experience with these machining tools, but he did know how to operate them. They were all electronic, so he wasn’t afraid of getting exhausted from having to power them himself.

He opened his eyes and got to work.