CHAPTER 135

“What’s that?” Michael asked. “What’s Existentia’s currency?”

“You don’t know?” Mus asked, confused. “You can’t guess?”

“Of course, we do.” Tom interrupted, not wanting to give away more of their position, though expressing ignorance.

“We do?” Michael glanced at Tom in surprise.

“Yes, it has to be experience.” Joline almost snapped. That was exactly what Tom had been thinking, and he watched Mus carefully to see what the otter’s reaction was going to be. Its whiskers did not even twitch.

“I understand experience makes senses for us.” Michael responded unperturbed. “But how does that work for natives? They don’t have an auction house that trades experience for purchasing power.”

“Do you remember the challenger trial?” Joline asked. “That’s the calibration method they probably use. Plus, there are Skills that serve the same purpose.”

Mus had been watching the exchange with interest and when finished, the otter blinked in a satisfied manner. “Exactly. For our negotiations, we decide on the price and then you get that value out of my trade goods.”

“Let’s say we’re interested. How do we price your trade goods?” Joline asked.

“Skills! All you have to do is to purchase the best one for the job.” Mus said, sounding bored. “I can pay up to forty thousand directly with actual experience and with that I’m sure you find something in your competitor store to satisfy your paranoia.” Mus’s whiskers twitched, which was the equivalent of a human doing a teasing smile. “It’s unnecessary, of course under the trade flag I promise you that my prices are fair. You can trust me.” Discretely the otter cleaned its whiskers.

Tom almost burst out laughing at its antics.

“So, hu-mans what is your demand?”

Joline looked at them to confirm that she was still in charge. Tom could only guess at the thoughts that were going on in her head. How much was a lifetime of servitude worth? Fifty years, a hundred years of it? Also, what was the value for Mus’s race? What price could be put on transforming the future of your entire species? A million a year, two? More?

“A billion per volunteer.” Joline said.

Mus grabbed his whispers and flopped back into the pool with a tremendous splash.

The three of them looked at each other, amused despite the seriousness of the situation.

When Mus reappeared, Joline’s face switched from mild amusement to a mask covering annoyance. She was good.

“What, pray, tell, was so amusing.” Her tone was biting. “The benefit these volunteers will bring will far exceed that cost.”

The otter cleared its whiskers once more. “For that sort of expenditure, I might as well kill you all and resort to slavery.”

“You wouldn’t.” Tom told him.

“To save my people four billion I would.”

They were under the trade flag. Mus was not lying. Overcoming his distaste of slaving had a steep price, but the otter would do it if pushed. Their negotiating position was not as sound as Tom had hoped from the prophetic dream.

Joline glared at Tom, telling him to shut up. “Humans take their liberty seriously. You are asking a lot of us, and we will need compensation to reflect on that.”

Mus bright eyes studied her. “I’ll pay a million per volunteer.”

“We don’t have a deal.” Joline said instantly. “That’s barely enough to get one person to level fifty. We’re better off keeping them here.”

“What do you want? Experience to raise someone person to one twenty-eight?”

For a moment, Tom imagined how powerful he would be if he got boosted like that, but then he remembered they were getting the experience in kind and not as the actual stuff that he could spend.

“If it was all experience rather than objects of equivalent value, we might consider that a fair trade if you could raise five of us per volunteer. But I don’t think that is what you are offering, so if it’s in hard options we need four times that value.”

“That’s a big drop from a billion.”

“I reconsidered.” Joline acknowledged. “A hundred million per volunteer sounds fair.”

Mus shook his head finally. “Five million and an extra two if they haven’t taken a class.”

“That’s pennies.” Joline spluttered.

Mus’s eyes widened in surprise. “I don’t understand that term, but I can guess that usage and I reject it. My offer is fair.”

“Fifty million and five million if they’re classless.”

The two of them went hard on the negotiations. Throwing numbers back and forth. Tom forced himself to keep a flat face during the discussion even if he couldn’t imagine the numbers that they were tossing around.

“Thirty-one per volunteer with an extra two bonus if they are classless.” Mus summarised. “For the first three, which reduces to ten for a fourth. To be taken in trade goods for everyone you convince to join me. I have the right of veto on any volunteers which I will use if I deem their offer to not be in my interest.”

Joline frowned, looking for all the world like she had lost, but nodded agreement in any case.

“Excellent.” Mus said in excitement. “We must celebrate. I have a large supply of gases. We can absorb them while birdbrain protects us. Then tomorrow morning we will formalise the volunteers and make payments.”

“What are gases?” Tom asked.

Mus produced a couple of samples. “These are gases.” He held a variety of potion bottles. “They work on all species.” He flipped through the bottles, almost juggling them and named the effects as he did. “Euphoria, lowers inhibitions, manic, happiness, and others you break them, and the gas automatically spreads to the people who are around. It’s fun because you feel completely different depending on which combination of gases you get. Euphoria by itself differs greatly in impact from euphoria combined with manic. Anyway, talk is boring. We should party immediately?”

Joline’s eyes were hard, but she smiled. “Yes. We don’t have much to offer, but what we do we will share.”

“No need. As the higher levelled guest, I will host.” Items started appearing all around the otter. Including what looked like an already roasted boar, which was the size of a hippo snapped into existence five metres away. Tom could feel the heat radiating off in and saw smoke wafted up from it. Mus stared up at the mostly intact southern wall, which was still filled with observers who had watched through the negotiation session. “Come down everyone. You are under my protection for the night. Well, birdbrain’s anyway and I guarantee everyone’s safety from the monsters of this world.”

The griffin stood straight in response to Mus’s promise and for a moment reminded Tom of the legendary beast from Earth stories. In that instant, it had the same threatening mastery that he had always imagined belonged to a griffin. Mus looked away, and it slumped slightly and the illusion shattered. Yet the barely perceivable aura of the creature remained, and Tom suspected that Mus’s guarantee would be easily kept. While the two of them, the otter and companion, were in such a low-level area no monster would dare to approach them.

Silence greeted Mus’s invitation from above.

The otter noticed and looked up. His enormous eyes blinked rapidly. “Food… drink.” His voice trailed off and there was a thump as a water fountain somehow pumping out crystal clear water landed next to him.

Joline stood up. “We have reached an agreement with the honourable Mus.” She called out comfortable with her professional background to be talking to a large crowd. “And as part of those negotiations, Mus has agreed to host a party.” She lied smoothly totally selling it as her idea instead of the otters. “This is an opportunity for us to let our hair down and have fun while Mus’s presence guarantees safety.”

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“How about the…” Bob trailed off clearly referencing the murderer but not wanting to say anything in front of their guest.

“You guarantee our safety?” Joline asked. “Even from internal violence?”

Mus nodded. “Nothing will hurt you and there aren’t any barriers nearby that can hold out bird’s senses.”

“It is safe for everyone. For the night, we can truly relax and not worry about being threatened.” Her words addressed the fear of the killer without actively saying it, and Tom saw a variety of emotions run over everyone’s faces. A large segment was not sold on the guaranteed safety and knowing the personality of a couple of them, including Legen that they would keep watch instead of partaking in the entrainment. That comforted him more than even the demonstration of the otter’s than the manifestation of the pre-cooked boar represented.

Mus continued to prepare the party site. The volume of material that it had tucked away was impressive. Another twenty cushions came out, an entire table filled with what Tom guessed was a variety of Existentia finger food. Mus looked between the humans and the table and around half of what was set out vanished back into his inventory. “Might cause digestive problems.” the otter muttered.

After five minutes of fussing was done and with a small amount of trepidation humans started streaming down to participate in the unexpected party. It was more than that; he realised. The concessions Joline had gotten out of Mus were incredible. It would let them skip months or more of grinding and was truly a reason to celebrate. A hundred and thirty million of value was a breathtaking number and Tom was extraordinarily glad that Joline had been there. His opening negotiating position would have been significantly below the result Joline had extracted.

That was the value that the cut-throat CEO brought to the table. In one act, one example of commercial nous, she proved her importance beyond doubt.

Tom could already feel the thrill of the snowballing impact the windfall might create for all of them. In a day’s time when they had accepted payment, they would be a powerhouse for humanity.

He was almost dancing in exhilaration, but he took his cue from Joline and maintained a slightly disgruntled external expression.

Around half the group had come down, but they milled awkwardly on the area that Mus had clearly set up as the location of the celebration. No one was sampling the food and Mus had used none of the gases. Someone had to break the ice.

Curiously, Tom snagged a leg of some type of spider. “Any specific method of eating this?”

Mus looked at him, and his whiskers twitched. “I can’t talk about hu-man specifics, but the standard way for most species is to open the relevant orifice. Bite, cut, compress an appropriately sized chunk off and then–”

“Got it.” Tom said with a laugh. “Eat it all.”

Mus cleaned his whiskers. “Yes, there’s no bones or shells in the food I’m serving. Excluding.” The otter nodded at the boar.

“We hu-mans know what bones are.”

The otter pawed its whiskers furiously, and Tom smiled at its reaction. If there was not a huge disparity in their levels, he could have seen himself becoming friends with the strange alien.

“Mus,” Joline said awkwardly. “I’ll go organise the volunteers.”

“Go, go.”

“Tom, you coming?”

“Umm,” He waved the spider leg illustratively. “I’ll join you in a minute.”

Joline and Michael departed.

“She’s a prickly hu-man.”

“Yeah,” Tom agreed. “On Earth she used to be important. Her adjustment to the new reality has challenged her. Overall, she does a lot, but a lot of her actions are flavoured by a lot of self-interest.”

“I know the type.”

Tom took a bite of the leg and found that the shell was soft and not crunchy and sharp like he had feared. The taste was too much salt with a base of citrus and octopus. “Interesting.”

Mus’s whiskers twitched. “I don’t know the hu-man taste palate. How do you truly rate that?”

“Good, but way too salty.”

The otter stilled momentarily. This was not offense it was more interest. Several dishes disappeared and a few others were added. “If you can’t finish.” Mus held up what was clearly a trash can.

Tom answered by taking another bite.

“Not totally unpalatable, like I feared. Tom, if you don’t mind can you taste this one.” The otter waved a paw at a bowl that was filled with eyes the size of a small apricot.

“Are those eyes?”

“Yes.”

“Sure.” Tom grabbed one and shoved it into his mouth, whole. It was magnificent. “Oh, my god that is incredible.” It was sort of like a herbed cut of fatty meat cooked to perfection.

“Great!”

More plates appeared and disappeared.

“How big is your storage?” Tom asked while still chewing the eye.

“Large enough,” Mus answered neutrally. “I caught a flicker of hesitation when you saw the dish of Squidmo eyes. Are hu-man’s squeamish? Vegan?”

Tom hesitated. “I think this group is neither. Everyone here has eaten rats, insects and everything they can get hold of in the tutorial. Humans, more generally, well on Earth… the eyeballs.” Tom laughed as he imagined how he once would have reacted. “Lets just say that most people would have been disgusted by the concept to the point of not trying.”

“Interesting.” Mus did not change any of the displayed dishes in response to the new information. “A bet then. You bet that everyone here is over their dislike of eyes, and I bet they’re not.”

“And how are we going to measure that?”

“How many eyeballs are left?” Mus suggested. “Usually, it’s pretty clear. I’ve been at parties like this where everything that resembled a body part of anything living got eaten and the processed meat wasn’t touched. I’m betting hu-man’s go the other way.”

“Done.” Tom said with a laugh. “How do we formalise this?”

“My people rub whiskers.”

Mus jumped onto a cushion and leant forward expectantly.

Tom chuckled and leaned away from him. “Mine don’t and I don’t have whiskers.”

Mus twitched in response. “The standard method for most species is to tap the primary tool wielding hand providing its purpose has not evolved for magic channelling. If it has, they use the next closest limb.”

“Why? Scrap that question. I assume it’s too dangerous to shake hands with a body part designed for focusing magic.”

“Correct.”

Tom offered a fist and Mus hit it with his paw.

“Tom.” Joline’s voice from the corner of the fortifications cut through what had been a slowly increasing babble and threw everyone who had been coming out of their shell back into silence.

“You should take care of that.” Mus said. “By the time you return, I’ll make sure there is a proper party happening here.”

Tom jogged over to them while still holding his spider leg. He took a bite when he reached them. No grit under the teeth and the saltiness was pleasant. It was not something to eat in large quantities, but as a snack between bites of items that were less salty. For that purpose, it was pretty good.

“We need to discuss who is best to send.” Joline said immediately.

“Shouldn’t we ask for volunteers?” Michael asked.

“You’re showing your lack of business expertise. Michael.” Joline informed him. “Most people can be convinced to do anything if you phrase it the right way. Our job is not to work out who will be happiest in the arrangement, but to ensure we only surrender people we’re willing to lose.”

“That’s a little…” Michael started.

“Practical, necessary, sensible. Which word were you looking for?”

“Manipulative.” Michael responded harshly. “It’s manipulative and unnecessary.”

“Nevertheless, we shouldn’t leave this to chance. We want to select people who are unlikely to create a lot of ranking points by themselves and don’t fill a niche that our team requires.”

“I don’t want to be part of this.”

“Stop being such a baby, Michael. We’re just going to make a list of ten people that the community is least impacted by losing and offer them. If none of them accept, then we’ll extend it to others, but it won’t be needed.”

Michael looked uncertain.

“For a start, I don’t think we’ve got enough scouts, so they’re off limits. We also want to preserve our elite fighters and all the exceptional crafters.”

“So, you already have a list. Why don’t you just share it.”

Joline smiled. “I do.”

“Well.” Michael challenged.

She scribbled on a piece of paper and handed it across to them.

Tom scanned the list quickly. Around half the names were people he knew, and the rest he had never spoken to. For the names he recognised, Tom considered them further. They belonged there, which meant it was true to the criteria she had listed. The scouts and the most talented amongst the survivors had been excluded.

“Bob isn’t he vital?”

Tom glanced at Michael in surprise. He had thought that Bob was a prime candidate who could be let go without consequences.

Joline smirked. “I appreciate how easy it is to get to vote how I want him to, but realistically what does he contribute. The only unique skills he provides is his police background. And frankly, that isn’t that impressive. Do you really reckon he is going to catch the killer?”

Tom agreed with her despite not wanting to. “I don’t have a problem with this list.” Tom said into the silence. “Andros and Pena… well… I like them as people, but I understand why they’re listed.”

Joline patted him approvingly on the shoulder. “That’s what I like about you. Tom. You don’t get caught up in sentimentality.”

Michael snorted at that comment.

“Actually, I’m not sure about Sonya. I think she’s too valuable to be on this.”

Joline laughed. “I take back all the compliments about not being a sentimental sap.”

“That’s not what it’s about.” Tom snapped in annoyance. “I think if you ask most people she’s amongst the best in terms of crafting and her living wood ability is unique. She also strikes me as someone who will get better and…”

“I’ll talk to her last.” Joline promised. “But if I reach her, I reckon she’ll accept quickly enough. A lot of her crafting is trait based and she can progress it even if her classes are elsewhere.”

Tom and Michael looked at each other and wondered whether they should straight out refuse to have Sonya on the list. Tom shook his head to ward the healer off. Logically, if one of them had to volunteer she was not an awful choice.

“Fine.” Michael said. “How do you want to do this? Do you want to split up the list between the two of us?”

Joline shook her head. “Probably best if I make the approach. Without offense, I’m better at selling things. I’ll have six volunteers by morning and that will give Mus choice in case there’s some criteria that we don’t know about, which will cause him to reject someone.”

“You really reckon you get over 50% of that list to volunteer.” Tom asked.

“It’s guaranteed safety, security and ranking points. Add in the bribe that stupid looking otter’s offering and absolutely people will sign up. We all want to make a difference and all those factors mean anyone accepting this will be having an impact. I’m half tempted to volunteer myself, but I don’t think Mus would allow that.”

“You talk to the rest. I’ll chat with Sonya otherwise it’ll be weird.” Michael said after a moment. “As Joline alluded to, we're not going to pull the wall over her eyes. If she thinks it’s in her interest, she’ll be volunteering with nothing we can do to stop her.”

With a nod, they broke up, and Tom returned to the party. It had only been a few minutes and already the noise levels were rising. He was genuinely curious about what impact the gases were going to have.