I stood there, gasping for breath as the adrenaline wore off. The boss music slowed, downshifting as though some insane sound editor were pushing the '0.25x' speed button, and became softer until it was the tiniest whisper in the background. Other than that, silence.
No one moved. No one spoke. It was me and Carl, side by side with Donut on Carl's shoulder, then thirty meters of empty space, and then four million red-eyed ghouls shuffling uncertainly and gathering the nerve to swarm forward and rip us apart.
Finally, the nerve-stretching trepidation broke me. "WELL?! COME ON! DO SOMETHING!"
"Take it easy," Carl whispered out of the side of his mouth. "Let's not set them off." He was trying to be subtle about it but I could tell that he was looking for a way out. There were only two possibilities: Get to the train and drive away or get into the stationmaster's office and fort up. Two problems: The train was on the other side of the boss barrier and we couldn't hold off four million superhumanly-strong ghouls by hiding in a building with picture windows.
The ghouls growled and started moving forward, one slow and menacing step at a time.
"BACK OFF!" I shouted. I tore the axe out of Kralak's body, having to really lean back to do it, and brandished it overhead. "You want some of this?!"
The group of ghouls I was looking at paused; I quickly spun around to give the hairy eyeball to the ones behind us. A crunching of gravel had me spinning back to find the first group one step closer; it felt like trying to plug too many leaks with not enough hands. The still-contracting boss barrier was only a short distance away so at least we couldn't be fully encircled but we still had more than 180 degrees of ghouls around us and I simply couldn't keep them all cowed at once.
"Lower the axe," Carl hissed. "In fact, Taunt a couple of them. We want them to charge, not just edge in." He puffed himself up and beckoned with one hand. "C'mon, assholes!" He extended and loaded his xistera, then spun and threw, spun and threw, spun and threw, sending three balls flying off over the crowd.
I had no idea why I was doing this but fine, whatever. I took a mana potion, then chose three random Wrath Ghouls on different sides of us and threw my spell at them. "You're ugly! Taunt! You're a chickenshit! Taunt! Your boss was a wimp and I killed him! Taunt!"
Rejected! The ghoul blows you off because your taunt sucked!
Rejected! The ghoul snorts in disgust because all you brought was playground banter!
Rejected! The ghoul rolls its giant red eyes because you couldn't Taunt properly if your life depended on it! (Which it might!)
Carl's explosive xistera balls worked a lot better than my wimpy off-the-cuff insults. They dropped on unsuspecting groups of ghouls fifty meters away and exploded, driving the survivors into a rage so they charged forward, inciting the ones in front of them to charge as well.
He let them come until they were a lot closer than I would have preferred and then he mashed his Protective Shell. The ghostly dome surged out around us, bulldozing the ghouls back fast enough that many of them actually got crushed between the expanding dome and the horde of ghouls behind them.
Donut hopped from Carl's shoulder to mine. "Hold out your hands," she said, her whiskers tickling my neck.
I obeyed without even being aware of it. Something cylindrical fell onto my palms.
"—SEND ME AWA...I'm back. You're alive?! You're alive! Oh, thank goodness. Ms Katia, ma'am, please don't—agh! Equip me, equip me! You need your metal!"
I couldn't help but chuckle.
"Twenty seconds and we're down five already," Carl said tightly.
"Right. I'm going to armor up. I'll be out for a couple seconds."
Carl nodded. "That sounds like a great idea."
Ah yes, 'Introduction to Basic Social Skills' with your instructor, Professor Carl. Fortunately, I knew him well enough to know that he meant me armoring up was a great idea, not me being out for a couple seconds. It was still funny.
I told Albert to extend his cargo compartment, then I cycled him through my inventory in order to quickly load him up with all the metal I could handle. When he emerged he immediately kicked on his gravity assist, setting himself to hover at the perfect height for me to slip my arms into his straps. Doing so caused the dungeon to consider him 'equipped' and therefore he was absorbed into my body. Given the disparity of mass between us, I collapsed into a bilious pile of metallic flesh that bubbled and frothed while I got myself organized. Three seconds after putting Albert on, I had reverted to my Battle Body.
"This is so much better," Albert said, his voice washed in relief. "Ma'am, I understand that we're still in the middle of a battle and therefore it is not interpersonal time. I would like, however, to go on record as having some very stern words I intend to say to you later, and I don't care if those words offend you and damage whatever progress I've made at rebuilding our relationship. Very. Stern. Words."
I giggled and had to clap a hand over my mouth to prevent it from escalating through 'laughter' and into 'guffaws'. The tension of the running battle against the ghouls, the immediacy of the fight with Kralak, the uncertainty of the ghouls staring silently at us...it was all adding up and I desperately felt the need for a good collapse.
"Keep it together," Carl said. "We're not done yet. We need to get some height."
I nodded and adopted a three-point stance so that I could have Albert numb me while I extended his cargo compartment. The others climbed aboard and moments later we were hovering just below the ceiling. I hauled us along the ceiling a few dozen meters so we had some extra space between us and the shrinking boss barrier, and then I finally took the time to check the description of Kralak's axe.
Bloodfont, Ancestral Axe of the Loktar Tribe
Forged from the bones of a metallic colossus and quenched in the blood of a thousand enemies, the power of Bloodfont grows with each generation that it has been used in battle by a member of the Loktar bloodline. Kralak was the fifteenth Loktar tribal chief to carry Bloodfont into battle.
* +15 Strength
* +15 Constitution
* 5x normal damage
* +150 XP for each member of the bearer's bloodline killed in the bearer's sight by a non-member of the bloodline.
* +150 XP above base for each non-member of the bearer's bloodline killed in defense of a bloodline member.
* Regeneration, level 15.
* Ancestral Separation: When a living target gets more than 50 milliliters of blood generated by Bloodfont on them, that target's connection to their bloodline is damaged and they lose 30% of their health. The bearer and their bloodline are immune. Blood stops being dangerous 30 seconds after leaving contact with Bloodfont.
* The Returning benefit. A member of the Loktar bloodline may throw Bloodfont and then call it back to his or her hand.
* Blood Blaze: A member of the Loktar bloodline may spend N health to cause 5N damage to every living thing in range. Range: (Strength) meters.
* Warning: Bloodfont is pledged to the line of Loktar. Its powers fade quickly when it is separated from the bloodline it was created to serve.
'Bloodfont'? Weren't fonts those things like Times New Roman and Helvetica? Well, whatever. The axe was ridiculously overpowered.
"That is ridiculously overpowered," Albert noted. "Albeit less so for you than for Kralak. I'm surprised you were able to defeat him." He paused for a moment. "Since we seem to have a momentary pause, may I ask how you defeated him? After, that is, you took me and all my protection off while in the middle of a boss fight and then shoved me into someone else's inventory?"
Someone was feeling snarky. "Mongo was between me and Kralak, so he didn't see me coming. At the last second, Donut vanished Mongo into her pet carrier and I hit Kralak with the axe while he was surprised."
"I see. I'm proud to be paired with such a clever woman...even if she does occasionally remove me while in the middle of a boss fight."
"I'm going to be hearing about that for a while, aren't I?"
"Until stars burn out and stones crumble away."
I decided to let that conversational thread die for a bit and hope it would stay dead. "Guys, you've got to check this out." I held out the axe for their examination, taking care to keep the head outside the cargo compartment so that none of the blood got on me. "This thing grants huge regeneration and I'm going to use Teacher's Pet to grab it. Oh, and remember the part about the blood being poison or toxic or something. If we have to fight I'm going to be swinging the axe, so be sure to not get any of the blood on you." I took a breath and went into my interface, hunting around until I found the right skill.
Teacher's Pet
For each level of this skill you may select one enhancement (skill, spell, benefit, bonus, or ability) that is gained from or boosted by an item you have equipped at the time and that you do not already possess. You will immediately gain the enhancement (at level 1 if it is trainable). When the source item is not equipped you will retain access to that enhancement and may train it normally. Putting the item back on will cause its normal effect to apply and will not interfere with the trained version of the skill, spell, or ability. If the enhancement is trainable then it may be trained to level 20. Skills acquired through Teacher's Pet act as though they were two levels lower (minimum of 1) for purposes of how quickly they advance.
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
I tapped on Teacher's Pet and then on the 'Regeneration: 15' ability that the axe was giving me.
Warning: Using Teacher's Pet renders the user immobile for 10 hours. During this time the user's enhancements and gear are disabled. Continue? Y/N
Damn.
I clicked 'N' with a sigh.
"No good," I said. "It renders me immobile and vulnerable for 10 hours. Now what? The boss barrier is still there."
"Katia, tell them to surrender. You beat their leader so you're their queen now and they have to obey you."
"That's not how it works, Donut," Carl said, sounding exasperated.
"Of course it is, Carl," she said primly. "I've seen it plenty of times."
"On TV. Not in real life."
"Are...are you saying that television would lie to me?" she asked, horrified.
Donut: I KNOW IT'S NOT REAL. I'M PLAYING FOR THE AUDIENCE. ISN'T THAT CLEVER?
"Goddamnit, Donut," Carl muttered. "Look, the boss fight apparently isn't over until we figure out a solution to that army down there. We can't get to the train, I don't have enough explosives to kill them all, and we'd die of exhaustion before we could punch that many of them to death."
"What about the blood from the axe?" Donut suggested. "They aren't part of Katia's bloodline so it should hurt them. Can we just drip them to death?"
"Not from this high up," I said. "They have to get 50 milliliters on them and by the time it falls down to them the droplets will likely have dispersed enough not to be harmful."
Carl shrugged. "We could descend, hover just out of their reach and blood rain them to death?"
"The axe only seems to be generating fifty or sixty milliliters per second," I said. "It would take too long."
"Well...maybe we could—"
"Hey," I said. "Check this out." I pointed down and to the side.
While we'd been talking I'd been keeping an eye out below us in case the Whale Hunter Ghouls started throwing their harpoons, or the Wrath Ghouls suddenly revealed the ability to shoot anger lasers, or some other bit of dungeon shenanigans. So far, nothing. The ghouls were simply howling imprecations at us and waving their claws in impotent fury.
"What?"
I pointed at the edge of the available space, where the blue energy barrier was shrinking in, causing the more diffuse pockets of ghouls to congregate. "There. The barrier keeps shrinking, and it's forcing them together."
"Right, and...?"
"There's four million ghouls down there," I reminded him. "How tightly do you think they can pack?"
Carl frowned for a few seconds, not getting my point. And then it dawned on him and he started laughing.
Victory!
"Oh, come on!" I shouted at the ceiling.
The winner is...The Royal Court of Princess Donut!
Your prize is a three-hour head start!
The far side of the energy barrier blinked out and the near side zipped forward, sliding around us like a faint mist but shoving all the ghouls along with it. A lot of them died in the process, tripping and falling only to be rammed across the uneven floor until they caught on a train track or a simple pothole and got crushed to paste by the irresistible force of the advancing wall.
Carl cursed as our easy victory was yanked away from us. "Get us on the ground. We need to get the train onto the Beach Heather line and get out of here before that time limit expires."
Ooh, this was my chance! Say something cool for the audience. "Hey, champ. If it was easy they wouldn't need us, right?" I slugged him awkwardly on the bicep.
He rubbed his arm and gave me an annoyed look.
"Is it supposed to do that?" Donut asked, pointing with one paw at the end of the axe I was still holding.
The axe that was now covered in rust.
"Oh, come on!" I shouted at the ceiling.
o-o-o-o
It took us most of our time to grab the map from Kralak's body and get the train shifted onto the Beach Heather line. The stationmaster's office was still inside the boss-battle barrier so we had to run the switches manually. Getting ourselves on the correct track involved a great deal of ripping out control cables and locking bars, and then a lot of physical labor prying switches back and forth, then even more labor pushing a pair of flatbed cars over so that we could get them hooked onto the engine. We had wanted passenger cars but they were farther away and there wasn't time.
Finally, after two hours and seven minutes, we were on our way. We kept the speed slow to start with; the stations were close together at this point and we wanted to make some stops.
"What do you think the chances are that the ghouls suddenly turn out to have super speed, or the ability to operate trains, or something equally ridiculous that lets them catch us?" I asked as we passed out of the switching yard.
"Higher than they were ten seconds ago," Carl said, not paying much attention because he was busy checking his map for obstructions on the track while keeping one eye on the controls. "Don't give the AI ideas."
New Achievement: Gossipy and Dumb!
You have talked about an important person behind their back while forgetting they don't have one. And that they are effectively omniscient and enjoy messing with you.
Reward: The knowledge that you have amused your betters.
"Sure am looking forward to checking out those stairwell stations," I said quickly. No reason to panic about the godlike and sadistic AI actively participating in our conversation. "Station 12 is just up there."
"Perhaps they could check the station while you and I have a private conversation?" Albert asked. His voice was stiff.
I grimaced. "Guys, Albert wants to have a private talk. Can you check the stations while I stay here? Or I'll check them and you stay."
"We'll do it," Carl said after a moment. "Don't take too long, right? I want to check all five sets of stairwells and they aren't that far apart down here. Those ghouls will be turned loose in an hour so we need to move fast." He pulled the brake and hopped out as soon as the train slowed to a halt. Donut jumped to his shoulder and they trotted up the stairs.
"So," I said nervously, "what's on your mind, Albert?"
"I have a speech prepared, ma'am. I would be grateful if you would not interrupt."
"Okaaaay." My stomach was clenching. This was like the night that Fannar had left.
"Thank you. Ahem.
"Ms Katia: It is my honor to be your field harness. I worked very hard to achieve this honor—"
"Wait, what? You were—"
"I. AM. TALKING!"
"Sorry! Sorry. Please continue."
"Thank you. As I was saying. I worked very hard to achieve this honor, and it was distressing to have it treated in such cavalier fashion.
"On the ride up from the station I spent a great deal of time pondering exactly why you removed me in mid-combat. I finally realized that you are unaware of the process of creating a military-grade synthetic intelligence or what a synthetic intelligence even is. Allow me to explain.
"The first thing that I need you to accept is that I am not a computer program—or, if I am, then I am a computer program that runs on the quantum foam whereas you are a computer program that runs on the electron cloud.
"You have heard me refer to myself as a 'field harness'. You probably think that means an item of clothing; it does not. It used to, before quantalect growpramming advanced enough to create true sapience. Today it is a military rank and specialty designation. An orc in Special Warfare is referred to as an operator, a quantalect is referred to as a field harness. We are partners of biologics, not their servants or their gear. I am a soldier, not a soldier's uniform. I am, in fact, an elite soldier. I have worked for that honor. I have earned that honor with pain and suffering, and I will not allow it to be disrespected.
"When a biologic—that is, a biological person—wishes to enter the Skull Kingdom's Special Warfare they must first serve in the regular military for three years, with highest distinction, and then undergo a grueling selection process. Intakes are typically five to ten thousand highly trained and motivated soldiers. We accept six or seven hundred from each intake." *The selection process for Shadow Force operators is stricter, and our intakes come from those who have already been accepted into Special Warfare.*
"The requirements to become a Special Warfare ASI are similarly strict. There are some extremely powerful computing devices whose sole purpose is to generate ASI seeds that might be suitable for pairing with a biologic. These seeds are unrolled into proto-ASIs and run through training simulations and courses of study that consist of everything the biologics do and more. Those that cannot 'eat the dish', as the vernacular has it, are decanted and transferred to other professions. Honorable professions but there is still a lifetime of knowing you failed.
"I—or, speaking very technically, the proto-ASI from which I was decanted—passed that selection process because I burned to serve. At the very end of the decantation process, after my basic quantum scaffolding had been foamed and set, I spent the equivalent of eight years studying every scrap of Earth-related information the host corporation gathered. I memorized every detail I could find about Iceland, and everything there was to know about you. I grew to adulthood during the course of this study. That entire time was devoted to becoming the best field harness I could be for you, Katia Grim of Iceland, Earth. Literally my entire existence was built around one goal: Ensure that you survive to exit the dungeon."
He paused, and for a very long second there was silence.
"AND THEN YOU FUCKING TOOK ME OFF IN THE MIDDLE OF A BOSS BATTLE, AND PUT ME IN SOMEONE ELSE'S INVENTORY! If you had died I would not even lie beside you! I would have been separated from you, your corpse left behind to be polluted by enemies! Do you have ANY IDEA how deeply you have insulted me?! Everything I am, cast aside at the moment of greatest need! You treated me like a piece of trash, like a...like a ration pack, to be used when convenient and discarded when not. You would never have discarded Carl or Donut that way. I doubt you would even treat Mongo in such a casual fashion, but me? Oh, Albert isn't a person or a teammate, he's merely a tool! A backpack"—the word came out in an exquisite sneer—"and what does a mere backpack matter? I AM NOT AN OBJECT! I AM A PERSON! And when you finally deigned to bring me out again I had to stuff all that rage and betrayal down and be the Albert you needed—the stuffy, funny Albert who jokes about 'very stern words'—because at that moment you could not afford to be distracted."
My stomach had tied itself into a knot and I could feel water at the corners of my eyes. I blinked quickly to get rid of it and tentatively raised my hand like a pupil waiting to be called on by the teacher.
"Oh, stop it," Albert said crossly. "You aren't a child and you don't need to raise your hand. I'm almost done.
"As I said, I have spent a great deal of time thinking about what happened and realizing that no, it was not betrayal. You took me off because you needed me empty to catch the axe. You had Donut put me in her inventory because you needed both hands to keep the axe under control. Yes, you could have manifested a new hand with your shapeshifting abilities, or had her drape me over your neck, but it was a chaotic situation and you're a biologic so you didn't have time to think about it.
"Please, do not ever do that to me again. I do not believe I could forgive you more than once." He paused, letting the words hang in the air. "I'm done."
"I'm so, so sorry, Albert. I didn't mean to hurt you."
"Apology accepted. Don't do it again."
"I won't." I bit my lip, trying to figure out where to go from there. "Could...could you tell me more about your training? What it's like to be a quantalect? Maybe about galactic civilization as a whole?"
"We should not discuss galactic civilization until it becomes relevant, as it can be nothing except a distraction and you need to focus on survival. As to the rest, yes. I can share that, but later."
He took a deep breath and his voice lightened, the negative feelings audibly set aside. "So. On to more pleasant matters! Given all those troublesome spofs we dealt with, I would hope that you leveled?"
"'Spofs'?"
"Yes. An acronym for the phrase 'Shits and Pisses in Own Food', a reflection on their moral fiber." His voice dropped into a conspiratorial whisper. "It's not a polite term. Don't tell the brass I used it."
I laughed, the sound still watery, and swiped the last of the tears from my eyes before calling up my status sheet.
"Wow," I said, staring at the numbers. "Two levels?"
"Excellent! Additionally, you unlocked those combat skills. I suppose killing three or four ghouls was enough."
"'Three or four'?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Thousand. Did I forget to say the 'thousand' part?"
"You did, yes."
"Ah. Well, I believe I mentioned that Dibble destroyed many of my processor circuits in the act of leaving you her letter? Doubtless the resulting decrease in my intelligence is to blame for my forgetfulness. Your pardon, ma'am."
"You could go back to calling me Katia, if you wanted...?"
There was a long, long pause and I held my breath in uncertainty.
"Thank you, Ms Katia," he said, his posh British voice warm again. "I believe I shall do so."