Bill, not Billy, sat with Irene in one of the side hallways in the new suburb. The ten year old was Greg and Sharl’s eldest son. He watched in fascination as Irene worked on sewing her new leathers.
“Why are you doing that?” Bill asked. “Dad says crafted leathers are stronger.”
“They serve me well enough,” Irene told the boy. “They don’t cost me any coin and I like to keep my skills up.” She didn’t mention that wearing handmade leathers made people underestimate her. She owned a set of hunter’s greens that she wore most of the time. She was wearing them now. They were good for mixing in with a crowd in a square, but they also indicated a certain level of wealth. “They may not be as easy to repair as integrated armor, but the key is to not get hit in the first place,” Irene explained.
The boy considered this comment as if it was a priceless bit of wisdom. He rolled it over in his mind. Not getting hit sounded like a good idea to him.
“How do you not get hit?” he asked.
“There are two methods,” Irene told him. “The first is to get out of the way using speed and agility. The second method is to not get in the way to begin with. To accomplish this you have to be able to defend yourself at a distance and hold an attacker back.”
Bill nodded his head in agreement, as he considered this deeper truth. He knew how to defend himself at a distance. He could cast the spell fireball. He was very proud of that fact. He was one of the first children in the suburb to learn it. His father told him to only use it in defense and to never use it to draw attention to himself.
“How do you hold an attacker back without getting close?” the boy asked.
“You can stand behind someone stronger and bigger than you,” Irene told him. “That method works well.” Irene reached the end of her seam. She tied the end of the thread off. She cut the sinew using her knife. She turned the leather and inspected her work.
“Is there no other way?” the boy asked.
“Magic,” Irene told him. “There are spells that will slow an attacker or stun them, giving you the opportunity to move away.”
“Tell me about those!” the boy said enthusiastically.
Irene decided the just completed seam was good. She carefully turned the leather to begin work on the second seam, that would both reinforce the joint and hold the leather edges down so they didn’t rub against her skin.
“In the three spell tree there is ice slick,” Irene told the boy, “it forms a layer of ice on a surface and makes an animal slip.” She continued on, explaining a large number of tier zero defensive spells. Irene finished with a description of a five tree spell that created a curtain of fire that could cause an animal to stop its charge. It also broke a scent trail.
“That one’s the best!” the boy said enthusiastically. “I want to learn that!” A scratching sound came from their left. That direction led away from the suburb. Bill froze, a look of fear crossed his face as he looked past Irene to the hall beyond.
Irene pushed her sliver of boar’s tusk into the leather. She locked her eyes on the rat that stepped out of the cross corridor and flicked a spell at it. Light flashed the length of the hall and the rat dropped dead. Irene waited to see if it was alone. She strained her ears, listening for any hint of sound. The boy held still and quiet beside her. When she decided it was alone, Irene set her pile of leather down and rose to her feet.
“I’ll go pick that up and you can take it back to the cook,” Irene told the boy.
“That was awesome!” the boy said. He jumped to his feet and danced around. Irene left him guarding her half sewn armor and went down the hall to pick up the carcass. She took a moment at the intersection to check for any other animals. She threw light spells down the cross corridor to illuminate it farther away. Animals in dark space generally didn’t like light and would turn away when confronted by it.
She hefted up the rat and turned back to Bill. Irene was surprised to find Sharl waiting with her son. It worried Irene that Sharl could sneak up on her. Sharl was no threat to Irene, but if she could do it, someone else could too. Irene would have to be more careful. She was listening for sound approaching from outside the suburb, not from inside.
“Take that to Mary,” Sharl told her son, “she is cooking tonight. I’ll stay here and keep Irene company.”
“Yes, Mama,” Billy replied. He struggled with the heavy carcass for a moment before getting a good hold on it. He ran off into the settlement.
Irene sat back down on the floor. She turned the leather around looking for her awl.
“I heard you talking to Bill,” Sharl said, as she lowered herself to the ground “You are very good with him. Have you considered offering lessons?”
“Lessons?” Irene asked, puzzled. “In what?”
“Magic,” Sharl responded. “I taught all my children how to read and do simple math, but they will need more than that to excel in the structure. They need to know about magic. You just told my son more spells than I knew existed and I suspect you were giving him the simple version.”
“Bill is bright and well behaved,” Irene responded, “and I enjoy his excitement. But I am not really teacher material. I lack the patience. Hearing a spell exists is not the same as learning it. I don’t think I can stay in one place long enough.”
“Think about it,” Sharl said. “I would like to learn that fire curtain before you leave us, so think about what you need that I can trade for it. Billy will be very disappointed if we can’t teach it to him.”
“Oh, well, I may owe you that one, for putting the idea into his head,” Irene said with a smile. Sharl frowned, not liking the idea of not paying her way. “I could use some buttons or toggles if you have any extra,” Irene said, when she noticed Sharl’s expression.
“I have a really nice set of buttons Greg sliced out of an immature boar’s tusk,” Sharl responded, happy again.
“Deal,” Irene said. Thinking the conversation was over, she picked up her awl and started punching holes again.
“I wanted to talk to you about what you said to Greg,” Sharl said.
“Oh?” Irene replied, as she wondered what comment Sharl was referencing.
“I don’t like the idea of these tax stations. It feels like an escalation of the tensions between Chicago and Londontown. You told Greg if we stayed high you didn’t think we would run into anyone. I’ve always gotten the impression that the squares are a lot deeper. Do you think we could find a square high up?”
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“I don’t know,” Irene said. “Several years ago I saw one northeast of here attached to a ruined green. It didn’t have a protection crystal. I’ve heard that if you settle in a square without a crystal, waves of animals attack. Hold out long enough and a crystal will form.”
“Yeah,” Sharl responded. “I saw a migration in the early days. They are very dangerous. I don’t know if I want to risk the children. Although the animals that attacked were the same as the animals in the local area. If it was a ruined green, I wouldn’t expect there to be anything worse than boars.”
“I’ll make a sketch of where I saw it and you can think about it,” Irene suggested. “I was planning on heading north from here. If I get the opportunity I will swing by and see if it is still there.”
“I doubt it is,” Sharl responded. “A year is a long time in the structure. If no one claimed it, it was likely remodeled long ago. Still if you found a square on one ruined green, there could be others,” Sharl said consideringly. “What do you think of this territory tax?”
“I don’t like it,” Irene replied. “Until now no one has tried to claim wildspace as territory. Well except for Chicago downtown, but that is different since it is occupied. It will cause resentment and harden the lines between groups. Paris has been there for at least two years, since I visited it that long ago. If the suburbs are just noticing a drop in their scavenging, it may be the result of them pushing into Paris’s territory, not the other way around. I don’t think anyone can really know,” Irene commented.
“Londontown settled Paris and split their population in an effort to increase the territory they can hunt and scavenge. Chicago needs to do the same. They need to move north and find a square or even another pocket to claim and settle,” Irene observed. “They should split their population just as Londontown has done.”
“I don’t think Darien will want to share power with another downtown,” Sharl commented. “I find it hard to believe the leadership in Londontown allowed half their population to move away.”
“Well…” Irene said slowly. “It may not have been the queen’s idea. There may have been a rumor among the lower tier crafters that a square was to the north.” Sharl gave Irene a hard look. Now Irene was here telling Sharl’s spouse they should move to a square. Sharl was forced to admit the ‘rumor’ wasn’t a lie since Paris was there now. Irene didn’t make any promises to her either.
“If you find a square up high near or in dark space, I’d love to hear about it,” Sharl commented.
“I’ll tell you first,” Irene responded. Irene walked Sharl through how to cast fire curtain. Irene cast it once to show Sharl what it looked like. A sheet of flame sprang to life before Irene. Sharl could smell the smoke, feel the heat and hear the crackle. The spell ended and it was gone with no sign it ever existed.
Sharl would have to try it against a live opponent around twenty times before she would learn the spell and successfully cast it. Sharl thanked Irene and went to get the ivory buttons.
Irene returned to sewing her leathers. The new set was almost complete. She was using their construction as an excuse to linger with Sharl and Greg’s group. She liked the entire group. It was made up of survivors of the original survey teams that were officially sent into the ruins. They did not choose to come here. When Irene first met them, Greg was the only one who knew any magic. He only knew how to imbue a weapon with fire. None of the rest of them awoke their magic even though they were in the structure for over two years. Outcast from other groups for their lack of magic, they bound together to survive.
On that first visit, Irene traded Greg how to cast fireball for how to imbue fire. During the exchange Irene taught Greg her personal theory of how magic worked. Greg went on to teach every adult in his suburb magic using Irene’s method. Irene was afraid at the time that magic knowledge might tear the group apart or encourage them to take on too much risk. That didn’t happen.
Even though Irene liked them, she didn’t feel like one of them. She didn’t share the same early traumatic experiences that they all lived through. Some of their behavior seemed paranoid and fearful to her. At the same time, she didn’t want to dissuade them from it, since she thought some of those actions were what kept them alive.
Sharl returned carrying the buttons. She handed them to Irene. Irene accepted them and gave them a glance, which deepened into a close inspection. Sharl described them as sliced from a boar's tusk. These buttons were much nicer than that. Each one was hand carved. The face of them looked like the multiple petals of a flower.
“These are beautiful,” Irene declared. “I can’t accept them. They must have taken hours to make.”
“A deal is a deal,” Sharl declared. “Honestly Greg makes tons of them. We’ve been talking about selling them in Chicago.”
“You should,” Irene replied. “Make a trip and sell them in Londontown, or sell them to a trader heading in that direction. If I was heading that way I would take some myself. The queen loves pretty things.”
“Greg mentioned a trader selling vendor grain in the Chicago suburbs,” Sharl said. “Do you know anything about them?”
“I’ve been out of the structure for the last year so I don’t know who that might have been,” Irene responded. “I’ve met a couple dozen traders and have played the roll myself on occasion.”
Sharl, who was standing until this point, sat down next to Irene. She gave the other woman a sharp look.
“What do you mean by you’ve been out of the structure?” Sharl asked. Irene realized her slip. She should have said she was out of the area, not the structure. Irene didn’t like to advertise that she went back out to the colony ship. People living in the structure always thought she was lying.
“I was out on the Speedwell,” Irene responded. “A dear friend of mine from the flight crew passed away this last winter. I didn’t want her to be alone.” In truth Agatha’s family provided most of the old woman’s care near the end. Four of her children resided in the eastern villages. Irene stayed close in order to assure herself that Agatha was given all the medical care the ship could provide. The eastern villages started out as a subsistence farming community at an almost pre-industrial technology level. Agatha believed they would increase their technology level as they settlers missed the conveniences of the ship. Instead they turned away from technology. They developed a deep crafting tradition, but their medical care suffered.
“Someone from the flight crew is still alive?” Sharl said in surprise.
“Yes,” Irene answered. “There are not many left now. They are all in their late nineties, most of them have retired to the villages with their families. The queen is a member of the flight crew, so it shouldn’t be that surprising.”
“The queen is flight crew?” Sharl asked, her whole world view was being shaken.
“Yes,” Irene said. She thought everyone knew that. “She is Dr. Whitman. That is why some people call her the mad queen. She suffered a stroke or has dementia or both. I think Control tried to heal her, but it doesn’t know humans well enough to actually fix her. Instead she came out… odd.”
“Mad, you mean,” Sharl responded.
“I guess, but it is strangely cruel to say that about her when I don’t think it was her fault. Although the result is the same I guess,” Irene responded. Sharl stared off into space for a moment while she assimilated this new information.
“What are these villages you mentioned?” Sharl asked. Irene realized that since this group was all survey crew they left the Speedwell long before the formation of the villages.
“They are the colony,” Irene explained. “When Command realized they were losing so many workers to the structure that it was a danger to the colony’s survival they issued land grants to every member of the landing generation. The land grants were for fallow fields along the eastern edge of the valley. A series of villages were built by the inhabitants. They grow their own food and trade labor or products with the Speedwell for the steel they use to make their hunting weapons, tools and plows. If things get bad here and you don’t want to go deeper, you could try your luck there.”
“Back to the ship?” Sharl said. “I don’t know. That is almost like a dream now. I don’t think we would fit in there anymore, especially the children.”
“Not the Speedwell, there is really no one left there. It is just used for its medical facilities. I meant the villages. Life there is not much different than here just without magic. The fact that there aren't as many vicious beasts makes the lack of magic not a problem,” Irene explained. “As a member of the landing generation, the Speedwell will assign land to you. Your group is large enough you could start a new village.”
Sharl didn’t respond. She was obviously struggling with something.
“How would we even find the way out?” Sharl said aloud. Irene wasn’t certain if it was an actual question.
“You're really close here. That’s why I always visit your group on the way in or out. You can use your map. Obviously the corridors and rooms it shows from when you came in ten years ago will be all changed, but the sections revealed from those travels will still be there. Use them to get the direction back to the entrance. The entrance itself hasn’t changed,” Irene said. “That is what I do.” When Sharl still seemed shaken, Irene said, “There is no need to go now. You have a good life here. There is no reason to leave it. I just want you to know the option exists, in case that changes.”