◆Whill + Lieu◆
“So which one of you is the leader again?”
“I am!” Both men thumped their thumbs to their chests with pride, only to immediately turn and glare at the other with disdain.
Whill and Lieu had just finished giving Tusmon the proper grand tour of the Fiends For Hire West Compound, and it had ended in the cockpit. Most of the massive vessel’s navigational systems were completely automated, but there was also a simple-yet-elegant steering wheel that very marginally affected directional control. It was mostly there so that whoever was in the pilot’s seat could feel like they were doing something important.
“We both are,” Whill amended, though it clearly pained him to do so.
“For now,” Lieu disputed, still staring down his opponent. “Tize put us both in charge until the Drazahs can officially appoint one of us.”
“So in the meantime,” Whill cut in, “My dear coworker and I shall continue to support and guide West to the best of our abilities.”
“And what is it that you do exactly?” Tusmon had already gotten enough of their rivalry shtick during the tour—both men trying to one-up each other in their presentations—so he was already getting sick of it and wanted to actually make progress with his mission.
“Y’know, leadery stuff,” Lieu huffed. “Keeping the place safe and making sure everyone’s doing their jobs.”
Whill then stepped in front to add his piece. “And also making sure that everyone is cared for and doesn’t go hungry.”
“Alright, I get the gist,” Tusmon started scribbling down what they’d said on his notepad. “But do you do anything else with your time? Go on jobs like other members?”
“Heh, you wouldn’t want this one watching your back on a mission,” Lieu nodded his head in Whill’s direction. “He’d destroy whatever he was trying to protect.”
“Says the guy who’s best tactic is to run every time he gets a scratch!” Whill wouldn’t take the insult without retort. “And while I’ll admit that I don’t have the best track record of gallantly saving the day, we don’t have time for that anyways. You see, we have our own special mission.”
“They didn’t pick the edge of Pimitrad for this base just because it’s a convenient place for Fiends to hide. No, our actual purpose here is to recolonize the country and make it safe to live in—not just for Fiends, but for humans too.”
“Yeah, that’s the gist of it,” Lieu corroborated. “Since I lived here for a time during my Above days, I know the country pretty well. Most people see it as an irradiated zjikhole. But when you look past the monsters and the destruction, there’s a beautiful land that just needs to be restored.”
“And what exactly does that entail?” Tusmon’s curiosity had been piqued. “Assuming it’s possible, I’d take it that’s a lot of work. Not something that can be done overnight.”
“You’re right,” Whill admitted. “This is a long-term project. But we’re committed. And… The one of us who contributes the most to the cause and proves themselves will get to be leader… or so we assume.”
“It’s probably best just to show you, detective,” Lieu walked over to a panel and pushed a button. An automated announcement then played over the speakers. ‘Attention all Passengers. West will be embarking into Pimitrad Level R1. All humans please head inside immediately.’ The message repeated a few more times, and the barrier around them blinked a similar message about Level R1.
“The barrier generally keeps us safe from radiation,” Whill explained. “But just out of pure precaution, we have any humans go inside for Level R1. Even without the barrier, humans would at most feel a bit of discomfort. When we get to R2 and beyond, that’s when the real danger kicks in and we have to start limiting Lessers and take additional precautions. Really, we could stay in R1 level radiation all the time and be fine, but it makes some of the passengers uncomfortable.”
“Buncha pansies more like it,” Lieu groaned. “Makes us have to take longer with each expedition …but as their leader, their peace of mind is my top priority. Now then,” the man stepped forward to grab the steering wheel but Whill jumped in front of him. The Guerilla grumbled, “What are you doing? It’s my turn.”
“Puh, could you really count that expedition yesterday as a proper turn for me?” The Deterrent insisted. “It was just a simple pathing check to make sure all of our stuff was fine.”
“Are you going against our agreement?” Lieu’s eyes widened. “It’s your turn to steer one trip and mine the next. The length or purpose of the expedition doesn’t matter. Unless you want to go back to settling this with our fists.”
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“Ah c’mon man,” Whill then got close enough to his partner for a whisper, but was still loud enough that Tusmon could hear. “I wanna look cool in front of the detective, alright? Tell you what. Let me steer today and I’ll give you half my lunch.”
“Fine,” Lieu took a step back from the wheel. “It’s all yours.”
“Yes!” Whill did a bit of a self-cheer then turned and grabbed the wheel. He spun it with all his might, which clicked pleasantly with each rotation, and the vessel began to turn into the radiation-infested Pimitrad. The man then grabbed the nearby microphone and announced, “For today’s expedition, we will be heading to Patch 36 first. All available attendants ready your gear and grab your charts. ETA: 21 Minutes.”
With their destination marked, the vessel began navigating on its own, and no further input from the wheel would be accepted. But that didn’t stop Whill from holding it the entire time, acting like he was the one trailblazing their path. It was essentially like he was trying to play a game with an unplugged controller.
“So tell me, Whill,” Tusmon inquired while they were cruising to their next stop—the mechanical beast stomping through the wasteland. “Did you ever find stable employment before this? I took a look at your record, and while I didn’t go through it all, you seemed to work a lot of jobs for a few days or weeks at most.”
“Well yes I did, thanks for asking!” The Deterrent sounded proud over something that should certainly be taken as an insult. “That tournament did wonders for my job hunting. I was actually reached out to by an item extraction firm. They mostly specialized in big corporate mining and drilling jobs, when expensive tools were dropped down deep holes. Turns out, my power is super useful for that, and we could undercut every competitor while providing much better service.”
“But I still got to do a few smaller, more personal jobs, like helping people get their phones and keys out of storm drains. And since I can target specific items, I even got someone’s hard drive out of a massive landfill. Turns out, finding a needle in a haystack is no problem for me. Instead of The Deterrent, people I helped and those I worked with started calling me The Retriever, like the loyal dog I am.”
“Best job I’d ever had up until now, and it felt damn good to have stable employment again. But then those Humanity mawhgers started coming after me. First they torched my apartment. Didn’t spend much time there since I was always out for work, but it was still devastating. Thankfully the old lady landlord and all the other tenants made it out out okay.”
“But that’s when I made the decision to cut and run. Didn’t want anyone to get hurt on my account. So I turned in my resignation and severed all ties. Went scrambling all around the world trying to ditch those freaks, but they’re like Pufferticks. Once they latched on, they wouldn’t let me go.”
“It was Lieu here who actually got me out of a really bad spot. Thought I was cooked, but he swooped in and helped me out. And after that, we started roaming around together. He’d just split ways with that Alkahest girl so maybe he was just lonely. But we picked up a few straggler Lessers and Fiends and almost became like our own nomadic camp.”
“And then Tize appeared one day out of nowhere and made us an offer. Next thing we knew, we had this awesome mobile fortress and new purpose in life. Definitely not the job I’d ever thought I’d have, but you bet I’m going to be the hardest worker they’ve ever seen! I’m sure my co-leader here feels the same way.”
In response, Lieu only grunted and continued to stare out the window as they made their way to their destination. Once they got much closer, The Guerilla made the announcement this time. “ETA to Patch 36: 2 minutes. Ready yourselves at the drop-pads.”
“And that includes us,” the man turned towards the detective and then all three of them made their way out of the cockpit down to the side-railing of the vessel. There, they hopped onto what almost looked like a completely non-hydrodynamic lifeboat. When the West compound came to a full and complete stop, the pulleys holding the pad released, and cables dropped, lowering the men down towards the ground.
Tusmon hadn’t been able to see it from so high up and during their travels, but they were headed right into another bubble barrier. And once they crossed through it, The Investigator got a first glimpse of what they’d been working on, and all they’d accomplished.
It was a stunning and sprawling farm, at least half a lage wide in all directions. There were various plots and rows of dozens of different types of plants and vegetables. And wildly enough, they all appeared to be abundant and flourishing. Somehow, the Fiends had managed to convert the deadlands into their own little secret garden. And if this was Plot 36, that meant there had to be at least 35 more. The detective would have to ask for the exact numbers later.
Once the pad hit the ground, the three of them stopped to observe for a moment while the rest of the group got to work. It was mostly Lessers, but there were a few Fiends milling around the area. They all had charts in their hands and were inspecting each plot. Some took samples of the foliage or soil, others scanned them with devices, and more got to weeding and harvesting, or other more physically intensive labor.
“It’s almost all automated,” Whill started to explain. “The machines take care of all the watering and nurturing, most of the harvesting too. We just need our eyes to ensure that everything is running smoothly. Occasionally, something will get missed or malfunction since there’s still a bit of radiation messing with the systems.”
“As you can see, though, the soil is actually rather fertile, due to the minor radiation still in the ground. Because of that, everything needs to be scanned to make sure it’s safe for all races to eat. We, of course, consume most of what we harvest ourselves at West. But we’ve reached the point of overabundance and have begun selling the assuredly safe excess at farmer’s markets and a few local grocery stores.”
“Occasionally, we’ll get a wild mutation that needs to be culled. Lieu, here, almost got his hand bitten off by a tomato once. It was hilarious.”
“And what did those grapes almost do to you,” the man immediately retorted in his defense.
“Uhh, we don’t talk about that,” The Deterrent was desperate to move on. “But we’ve got our own work to do, so if you’ll excuse us.”
Whill was the only one who didn’t head towards any of the farmwork, but rather right outside the barrier. Tusmon’s curiosity, of course, prompted him to follow the man for this investigation.