“It’s fucked up that I’m upset that there’s no new monster,” Davi said. “I shouldn’t want monsters. I don’t! It’s just…”
“It’s just that if there really was no monster, everything we thought we understood is out the window!” Byron threw his notebook down. “There could still be a new monster. Something very stealthy and patient, or maybe something that’s dormant during the day and only active at night.”
Kurt glared. “If we get vampires, it’s your fault now.”
“Fine! That’s fine! I’d take vampires over… pure mystery.” Byron checked his watch. “It’s been… three hours, and the only Announcements from the military are that they haven’t seen anything yet. Do we go ahead with the test or wait until tomorrow?”
“Weather’s good,” said John. “We got a few hours until dark, and good Lord knows ain’t nothing never work on the first go. Might as well figure out what we did wrong.”
John’s words turned out to be prophetic. The propulsion framework was centered around a titanium bicycle frame, with gear trains leading out to two propellers. We’d been able to test it before, and it had held up to my max speed with regular applications of Repair, but it hadn’t been attached to the completed airship skeleton, which was over 150 feet long and 50 feet across, and just under 90 feet high including the basket. We’d re-made the basket out of aluminum and flexible plastic sheeting, both because it was easier than joining several wicker baskets together and because it was lighter. Our ballooning expert had told us to expect rougher landings from aluminum, but with our tougher bodies and supernatural healing, that was really the least of our concerns.
What was a concern was that we’d misjudged the degree to which the frame would flex when we inflated the balloon envelope. The changed stresses on the propulsion mechanisms and made the gears lock up.
That was irritating, but fixable, much like the mess of cords we were using to guide the envelope into place. It took a few hours of Davi flying around within the framework and Kurt welding extra eyelets onto our frame before we had something that worked reasonably smoothly without tangling.
The last issue was harder to address.
Byron just wasn’t strong enough.
He got the whole balloon envelope inflated, and the craft lifted off the ground, but he was visibly exhausted. We’d known inflating the balloon would tire him, but we’d hoped he’d have enough energy left that it would take a few hours of flying to wear him out.
Looking at Byron, it was clear he had more like a matter of minutes.
“We could get other people to inflate it…” Kurt said.
“Sure, here. But we can’t be sure where we’ll land. Do you want to be stuck in the middle of the desert, hopping forward a few miles every time Byron wakes up?” Davi asked.
“We’ll have to get him more Points Siphons,” I said.
Kurt shook his head, not responding. He knew - we all knew - that even though that was true, it wouldn’t be fast or easy. We’d dumped a ton of resources into getting Byron to his tenth ability. Getting him to his eleventh would take four or five more Siphons, and might not solve the issue. Our best bet, getting him his twelfth ability and specialty, would take another ten on top of that.
We deflated the balloon and trudged inside, and I took the time to look over the summaries Byron had written down of our abilities:
Vincenzo Moretti
Approximate Synergy
Powerful Blow
192
Biological Augment: Sprinter
658
Biological Augment: Reinforced Skeleton
617
Biological Augment: Infrared Vision
583
Biological Augment: Rapid Regeneration
658
Healing Touch
600
Biological Augment: Enhanced Musculature
650
Biological Augment: Oxygen Reservoir
575
Biological Augment: Resilient Skin
608
I’d gone with the Oxygen Reservoir after the balloonist had heard about our plan and pointed out that athletic activity at high altitudes is typically difficult. That wasn’t a factor in most balloon flights, which stayed below 3,000 feet and had passengers who stood in place and admired scenery.
We were planning to fly much higher than most balloon flights. Our (well, Byron’s) measurements of the height of flying monsters suggested that they typically stayed below 3,000 feet, and neither us nor the Kirtland military had ever seen them appear above that height. We were hoping that flying at a height over 6,000 feet would let us ignore the presence of monsters except when we were ascending and descending. We were reasonably confident that even if getting enough elevation didn’t let us completely ignore them, the vast majority would approach from underneath and be clearly visible.
John's air manipulation would help, but being a human propulsion system would definitely take more oxygen than average. The oxygen reservoir seemed like a prudent choice that would help me fulfill my role here. As a bonus, it would let me function underwater or in areas with poisonous air, since I could just stop breathing if I wanted to.
When oxygen was plentiful, I stored up extra, which I could then use to supplement or even replace my breathing when needed. The military’s information had suggested that the basic level would let me hold my breath comfortably for 15 minutes while stationary or for 5 minutes or so while highly active. Sprinter put me beyond highly active, but with my high synergy I could still go without actually breathing for over an hour which was both cool and unnerving.
I was a little worried that turning myself into a walking oxygen tank would make me, well, explosive, but Bob, the little AI from the ability research group, seemed confident that my high synergy level would correct such vulnerabilities.
Resilient Skin had been an easy choice, as the only skin augment we’d found that didn’t seem to limit mobility at all. It made the skin harder to cut, bruise, or pierce. People who’d taken the augment had reported being comfortable in a wider range of temperatures. I was really hoping it would help with the chafing that occurred when I got moving at superhuman speeds.
Davi Sok
Force Shield
375
Biological Augment: Rapid Regeneration
173
Knockback
358
Powerful Blow
391
Flight
435
Gravity Null
374
Gravity Reversal
374
Telekinesis
484
Davi’s numbers weren’t as high as mine, but she could keep herself in the air indefinitely or keep Gravity Null active on as much as a thousand pounds without strain. She could also use it at lower than full power. Even half-power noticeably decreased our speed at the start of a fall, making it easy for Davi to catch up to us mid-air.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Privately, I wasn’t sure if the safety measures were strictly necessary for me. Terminal velocity was normally what, 120 miles-per-hour? I was pretty sure I could survive an impact at that speed as long as I didn’t land headfirst. Maybe even then?
Davi had taken Gravity Reversal in hopes of using it to help with lift, but the ability seemed intended more for short-term use. She couldn’t keep it permanently active on anything heavy enough to matter much.
In addition to being our safety net and letting us bring more weight with us, Davi would fly around the airship on ascent and landing, defending the top of the envelope from aggressive monsters.
Kurt Osorio
Animate Machinery
585
Missile
398
Cleanse
576
Shape Paramagnetic Metal
609
Repair
510
Shape Ferromagnetic Metals
593
Shape Diamagnetic Metals
593
Telekinesis
642
Kurt’s synergy numbers rivaled my own, nearly as high even with one fewer ability. He was a utility paragon, and he was getting to be more and more of an asset in combat. One of our Medieval Militia helpers had been giving him pointers on the combat use of Telekinesis. Kurt could keep six medium-sized items aloft simultaneously and was experimenting with everything from knives to nets. The speed and force with which he could move those items was limited, but he could still cause devastation by using the right tools in the right places.
His job would be to keep the airship running, mostly via Repair, and to act as emergency backup for me or Davi. In a pinch, he’d be able to use Animate Machinery to give me a break if I got taken out or summoned away. We planned to be grounded when we expected Challenges, but the missing monster had freaked all of us out. We needed to be ready to “expect the unexpected,” as Byron put it.
John Christiansen
Healing Touch
242
Missile
192
Cure Disease
301
Control Air
367
Clairvoyance
323
Mental Speech
274
Air Aura
391
Air Sight
406
John was, to put it bluntly, a fucking mess. Only one of his abilities had broken 400% synergy, and that barely. Missile, his only direct offensive ability, hadn’t even broken 200% synergy. I’d tried to suggest he choose his abilities differently, but the old man was stubborn.
“You gonna tell me it’s not gonna help us get back to Huntsville? Keeping breathable air with us, seeing where the wind’s blowing, being able to talk to strangers without getting close and risking our necks?”
“Well… no, but…”
“Then this is what I’m doing. I’ll grease the wheels and y’all can watch my back.”
The revelation that we could only choose eleven abilities made me less inclined to argue with him. In the long run, he’d be able to pump his Missile up directly - assuming he lived that long - and he’d have a varied suite of other abilities he could call on. I was okay being a pure fighter, but there was something to be said for flexibility.
Byron certainly thought so, and had chosen his most recent two abilities accordingly.
Byron Simpson
Fire Bolt
575
Focused Flame
833
Heat
823
Ice Bolt
592
Freeze
823
Zero Zone
815
Plasmify
823
Explosion
731
Zone of Silence
397
Searchlight
414
We’d had a few arguments about it. Looking at the sharp decline in synergy numbers at the lowest two entries on his list made me angry all over again. We’d given up the use of our Matter Replicator and I’d given away thousands and thousands of Money, and what did we get? Abilities that had about half the synergy of some of the other options we knew of.
“Look, Vince,” Byron had told me. “I’ve got eight abilities that are some variant on ‘heat something up a lot’ or ‘cool something down a lot.’ I don’t think I can get through the whole Maffiyir on that alone. I’m an inflexible, immobile glass cannon. We know that behemoth with that sonic attack is coming. We need a hard counter, and I'm the best suited for it."
The Searchlight he’d justified by pointing out that he wasn’t excited about landing if a sudden fog rolled up.
“Little alien lights won’t help with that! We need something high-power, and I’m the only one who could take something like this.”
I couldn’t fault his arguments as far as they went, but the problem was that we’d spent over a month driving to Albuquerque and building the airship, and we still couldn’t fly the damn thing! It hurt knowing Byron’s most recent choices hadn’t strengthened his heat output as much as they could have.
“We’ve got to convince the military to let us use the Points Siphons.”
The thought echoed my own, but the voice was Kurt’s. I hadn’t even noticed him coming up behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see him gesturing at the ability sheets. “There’s just no other choice. We could retrofit an engine to the airship - we’ve got three available - but there’s a reason balloons don’t stay in the air more than an hour or two, and the fuels we have available these days aren’t as energy-dense as propane. Even if we could get the engines to burn them effectively - which I’m not confident about - we’d waste way too much time ascending, descending, finding more fuel, purifying it, and refueling. Byron is the only real way for this to work.”
“I don’t know if another 60% synergy is going to be enough to get him there,” I said. “We’ll have to bank on his Specialty coming through for us.”
Kurt looked upset, but he nodded. “Let’s have John message the base and see if he can get us on the schedule to make our case. We’ve done all we can, and it’ll make their investment so far a waste if we can’t make this work.”
To our surprise, John was given a quick affirmative, and a driver showed up a mere 30 minutes later to cart us across town. Even more surprising, we were led past the people waiting for Kirtland leadership’s attention, and ushered straight to the colonel.
Just as before, the colonel’s poker face was almost perfect. We ran through our arguments succinctly and passionately, though my heart was sinking at the apparent indifference of our audience.
Eventually, our arguments petered out into silence. The colonel lifted the sheaf of papers we’d handed him and rifled through them, holding one up. “Hm. Mr. Simpson, you’re the engine? Could you please explain your most recent choices? The synergy with your existing abilities was… low.”
Byron shuffled uncomfortably, but did his best to present his arguments about fog and landing as confidently as possible, and to voice his concerns about the trial monster. Now I could detect an expression on the colonel’s face: clear irritation. The table creaked alarmingly as he slammed the papers back down with dangerously-more-than-human strength and stood.
“Those choices were irresponsible and reckless. They were disrespectful of the sacrifices and work done by my people and the rest of your team.” Byron started to respond, to apologize, but the colonel held up a hand. “Fortunately for you, we need you enough to overlook your lack of discipline. To be perfectly honest, I’d largely forgotten about your group, but our need to get in contact with the rest of the world has only grown. The impact of the last Challenge on our elites was… devastating. We lost too many good people, and we lost them to two groups of people who were able to quickly decide to work together. We need that. Alliances. As many as we can get.”
The colonel paced away from the table to look at a map. “Beyond that, we simply need more information. A monster did not appear at the usual time today. We had grown to rely on the pattern we’d detected, but we now know that pattern is unreliable. Changeable. If we detect any future patterns, we won’t be able to trust in them either. Connection and communication were already important. Now? They’re critical.”
He looked back at Byron, his glare clear. “I’ll have my people arrange Siphon access for you, if you promise to take an ability of my choice - Conjure Flame - for your eleventh threshold. I’ll need you to give an informational assistant access to your interface to verify your choice. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.” Byron was looking down, his voice quiet.
His eyes came to rest on me - or, more accurately, the phantom crown across my brow. “You. Moretti? You can retain 30 spaces for followers of your choice. In addition to taking the 24 we previously agreed on, I want you to dump the rest as you travel and replace them with people across the country.”
I nodded. It was something I probably would have done anyhow, and it made sense, letting us retain contact - however tenuous - with the largest number of communities possible. Maybe some people would have resented being ordered around, but there was a time and a place for defying authority. This wasn’t it. “Sure. No problem.”
The barest hint of a smile traced his face. “Good. We’ll get you your Specialty. You get us America.”