Chapter 23

Sophie

Day 2 of Landing, Day 13 of First Landing

Population of Thornhill: 35

Started from the top, now I’m here.

One of the flight attendant’s elbows, as evident by her black uniform sleeve, came dangerously close to where I lay in Shelter Three, giving my face a light nudge.

Not an ideal situation, Sophie.

Not to mention, I’m stuck in this shelter with what I can only assume is the bottom rung of this so-called community of castaways. Despite my brown-nosing and casual flirting with the leader, Queen B as she is called, she still put me away with the useless newcomers. I didn’t think Bianca was the judgmental type, probably one of those who underestimated me because of my profile in the real world, and yet here I lay in the low caste among the commoners and not in the same shelter as the ones in charge.

Having arrived here yesterday, alongside some notable new arrivals like the Captain and Copilot, and being informed of the situation, I had two options. Kill myself or make the best of this situation. I wasn’t going to kill myself.

Aaliyah, a stewardess, had picked me up from where I first found myself on the beach and filled me in on the details so far. Magic cards, yada yada yada. New planet, yada yada yada; and then the power structure of this community. Now that was something I was interested in. The ones in power, Bianca and her council, were all useful because they had something called Classes. I wanted a class. I wanted class. If classes made you important here, I wanted it.

Queen B herself was a Founder. I’m not sure what that class means. From what I gathered, it was probably the most powerful class in the community. She controlled Slate, a golem who pretty much built most of the roofs over our heads. Regardless of her merits, when you control the housing and construction, you control the community, and I wanted to move quickly on her. She was the key to rising here, and I wanted to get in her good graces.

Why? It’s simple. I wanted my own house. I wanted to move out of this shelter immediately. I wanted people to respect me. I wanted a seat on that council. For that, I would need a class.

Was it that simple? Just get a class?

Surprisingly, yes. It was.

I spent last night gathering information, and all the classes made sense. Ethan was a med student. He got a Doctor class. Anika was a chemistry student. She got an Herbalist class. What I learned through my investigation was that each one had gotten their class by doing something they liked to do and doing it early. In fact, the council was trying to encourage certain classes; they would make everyone try farming, brewing, carpentry, or leatherworking just to see if they could make classes appear. I didn’t think that was a good idea. The best jobs are the ones you actually want to do, and I knew the best job for me.

Now there was just one teensy little problem: The new management.

Aaliyah ushered me to the meeting yesterday, and I caught the little tense discussion between the council’s enforcer and the two pilots about the future plans for the village. Even though many of the newcomers were siding with the captain, I knew in the end, that the ones with the ability would be the ones to take control.

Problems present opportunities. When the sides are picked, I will choose the winning side, and that is the one with the magical powers.

The morning was leftover turtle soup and/or roast fish. They served it with a side of sautéed foraged greens and wild barley porridge. Orion, one of the other major players of the council, was trying to play it coy when he acknowledged me at the mess hall, and I gave him a wink to tease a reaction out of him. Despite how cool he tried to play it, he was still a boy in the end.

While I ate, the ex-leader, Queen B herself, handed me a bar of soap wrapped in a banana leaf, a hand-sized cream-colored brick so down-to-earth and natural looking it looked like something you would pay nearly twenty dollars for at an artisanal hippy store. It was my ration for a few days. A whole bar of soap, not only to wash my body with but also to wash my clothes with. After questioning her, she revealed that the Captain had instructed the entire crew to focus on building a signal fire and gathering provisions, which resulted in a temporary pause in soap production for a few days.

Focus on the essentials, but people needed more than essentials, didn’t they?

That was a problem, so that meant it was an opportunity.

More friendly banter with the Founder, complimenting her beautiful hair and skin, laughing at her corny jokes, and then slipping in a question about who handles soap production led me to the herbalist, Anika.

Now, Anika, there was a girl who was all business. Where she spent her time, she looked like she had an entire botanical garden going. The captain had given her orders to stop picking daisies and start picking fruits and berries, which didn’t please her. Some empathy, kind words of support to show her I was on her side, and then maybe slip in a question about how soap was made, and soon I was headed to one of the “free” workers available.

“You want to give me half a bar of soap to make lye?” Tiffany asked, one of the older ladies who seemed constantly free, resting at the fire and chatting. “How the hell do I make that?”

“Just burn some wood. They have a kit for it over there. Get the ash from the burnt wood, put it in that pot, and pour some water over it,” I said.

“You ain’t fooling? We make this for you and you give us each half of your ration of soap?” Sasha, another slacker, asked, suspicious.

“I’m new here; I don’t need it as much as you guys,” I smiled and then wrinkled my nose for good measure. When they saw that, they wanted to exploit me out of my only bar of soap, as if to say, “Let’s see how long you will look down on our smell when you have no more soap.”

Now the easy part is over; the next part would take a lot more work. The groundwork for it was already in place, but I had no bargaining chips in my possession. My bar of soap was the only thing I had in this world. You might be asking, why didn’t I make lye myself? If I wanted the class I wanted, I would need to make this deal, and besides, I heard that lye is caustic. Why get my hands dirty when I can make others do it for me?

The intense, dour-looking cook had come back from one of his errands, sweaty and in his shelter checking on his lidded pots. There was food in it from what I gathered, but my prize was his lard.

Now, to say I had no bargaining chips left was not to be fully truthful. I had one, a big one, and I was going to use it.

“Orion~” I said sweetly, giving him my killer smile. The boy flushed when he saw me approach. The idea of being alone with me in the shelter probably sent his imagination into overdrive.

Aww my sweet boy. All alone here for weeks with no computer to relieve some stress. You must be on edge, right? Better flutter my eyelids and lick my lips. Yes. That’s right. Stare at my wet lips and imagine.

“Do you have any fat on you? Like animal fat. Can you be a good neighbor and lend me some?” I asked in my most seductive voice.

When I winked, I was surprised when his mouth turned into a line, his expression hardening. “Sorry, we’re running out. I’m only down to stuff I need to cook.”

“Oh shoot,” I said, bumping my head in a diabolically cute manner, “Isn’t there any way you can get me more? Pretty please? With a cherry on top~”

“You’re trying to make soap, huh?” Orion raised his eyebrow. “Didn’t Bianca just give you your ration?”

“But I’m really self-conscious about being extra clean. I’ll make it up to you, Orion~” I chirped, twirling my fingers on my shoulders affectionately.

Still a boy, after all. By the way he reacted, he must have been one of my fans in the real world. Oh, he does try to play it off, but his face color doesn’t lie.

“I don’t know. I was planning to kill some more birds today and catch crabs, and they don’t produce that much fat.” Orion looked around in his pots to check his inventory of food supplies. The cook then sharpened some knives quickly against a block of stone and holstered them on his apron. “Sorry, I got to run, lots to do.”

“Wait-” But before I could say more, the boy was gone.

Sheesh, now what?

When I returned to the two ladies, they had made the lye. It was in a wide clay pot, and I dipped a feather in it to see if it was strong enough, like Anika instructed me. I paid them for the lye, opened the leaf with my soap inside, split half of it, and gave one half to each. They both looked like they suckered me into the deal of the century, taking their halves and combining the half bar into their leaf ration of soap.

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Not a great deal to be holding a bowl of lye with no value as of yet, but I could still make this work somehow. Just as I contemplated my next move, my world shifted.

It was happening. I was getting my class.

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It was as they described, a black-robed stranger at a tarot reading table surrounding a black void cosmos. The dealer hid his face in shadows, but his skeletal hands had gold rings on them. I sat on a chair that magically appeared, which was made of gold and inlaid with jewels. Around me, nothing but a black void and cosmos that stretched infinitely into the distance. It made me dizzy, so I gripped tightly onto my gold throne.

“Why hello there,” I greeted the dealer, trying to hide the fear that was bubbling up. When you are in a meeting with powerful people, you have to have steady hands. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

There would be no greeting back, only the playing as he reached into his palms and drew a card. It lay flat before me, revealing a card with the art of a man holding a scale with gold coins weighted to one side. “Merchant,” it read with the letter B across the top center.

Three more cards followed without any warning and presented face down before me.

“The cards must be played,” the specter bellowed.

“Do most people pick middle?” I asked the card dealer to no response.

I studied the cards carefully and made my decision, picking up the left card. The art depicted a tiny merchant wagon on top of a giant hand. It read:

Portable Wagon - S

You own a wagon that is your private space. The wagon’s interior space increases as you level and earn more wealth. Only you can access the space and this item is soul-bound.

That sounded good. Really good.

I clapped in excitement and got off my seat to start celebrating. My fear turned to triumph. Before I could do more, like hug the stranger, the voice from the void spoke again.

“The cards have been dealt. Until we meet again, fellow holder.”

And with that, I was back in the real world.

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A red bird was being plucked by Orion as he methodically separated the feathers, working like a machine. He chopped off a wing and generously seasoned it with an amount of salt that would make the Dead Sea seem bland. Then he placed it away from the fire on a stack of rocks that were not close enough to directly cook it. The cook would occasionally glance up at Alex, who looked like a bargain bin Ryan Gosling, busy chatting with Aaliyah, one of the pretty young stewardesses, at one of the mess hall's picnic tables.

Now there was something I could exploit.

“Heya, so about getting me some of that animal fat, Orion,” I came next to him, standing close enough to make the boy uncomfortable. He pretended to act cool and proceeded to put another wing on the stones.

“I have a lot to do right now, Captain’s orders and all,” Orion said.

“Two chicken wings? You can’t expect me to believe that will feed an entire community. Given your cooking method and the pots you store them in, I would say you are saving up food like a chipmunk for yourself,” I commented.

“What’s that?” Orion ignored the observation and looked behind me at my new little gift from the card dealer. “Where did you get that thing?”

The thing, as he called it, was my new portable merchant wagon. It was a wooden box on wheels, which I could pull along with a small wooden handle attached to poles like a retractable handle. The whole thing looked like cottage-core carry-on luggage, fitting the theme of our unfortunate mess, what with the plane and all. Orion bent down and examined it, running his hands through the mahogany panels.

“It looks like a... wagon,” Orion’s eyes widened. “You made this?”

“I’ll tell you what. You lend me some of your fat and I’ll show you its secrets inside. I’ll even let you use it from time to time.” I twirled my hair and then brushed his arm, which made him redden.

“I only have my reserves, and I need it for cooking,” Orion said. “It’s just a pain to carry all these hogs back to camp to render the fat.”

“I’ll make you a deal. You hunt them down and I’ll carry them back, okay? After you render all the fat for me, I’ll give you a quarter of it and keep the rest to myself.”

I knew somewhere deep inside my Barter skill was being activated. There was no need to show Orion my cards, however.

“A quarter? I’m doing most of the work here. Shouldn’t you take a quarter?” Orion scoffed, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh... that’s too bad. I guess I’ll have to ask Alex to help me out...” I said bashfully.

“Half. And I don’t mean just the fat either. Half the soap you’re going to make,” Orion offered quickly.

I shrugged and smiled. “Fine, but I’ll give you the lye, and you make it into bricks for me, okay? Why do you need half of it, anyway?”

“I don’t. I’m giving it to Bianca to distribute for rations,” Orion said, and his knife came down to separate a leg from the bird’s carcass.

“You know, you’re never going to get them to work if you just hand out free stuff,” I sighed. “Orion, you produce so much value. Hoard it yourself, like you do with that food you keep. Trade it to encourage people to work for it. If you need string, trade them soap. If you need salt, trade them soap. We’re Americans, Rye. Learn what motivates us.”

“The food I produce is to keep myself safe. I need to give the soap to Bianca, because it will increase her authority. If she’s the one giving out handouts, then she’s the one people will see as the leader,” Orion said.

The lack of ambition was a huge turnoff. Oh, Orion, you silly goose.

“Fine,” I tsked loudly. There was no use in trying to persuade this simpleton. “Waste your wealth, see if I care. Let’s get a move on, shall we?”

After placing his chicken legs on the stones and leaving all of his meat to smoke, Orion walked back to his shelter to pick up some equipment, including a rope he draped around his shoulders and some knives he holstered to his apron. I commented that it was strange he would bring an apron on a plane, and he didn’t expand on it.

He instructed me to follow him through the forest and past the cave they called the dungeon. Now, this kind of walking would not do, especially while lugging this portable wagon. Between my sweat and the bugs out here, I would have to get a horse or maybe a few helpers to carry me from place to place. To his credit, Orion saw me struggling with the trek and offered to carry my portable wagon.

We came to a clearing in the forest, a wide meadow of yellow flowers and red berry bushes where a sounder of boars was grazing. Unlike normal boars, these had gray fur covering their bodies and long ivory tusks that made them look like sheep crossbred with tiny elephants. There must have been twenty in total. Orion pulled a throwing knife from his apron, and then a card appeared in front of it. A whistle tore through the air as the blade erupted from his hands and smacked into the head of a boar nearby. Lack of ambition was a turn-off, but that kind of power was intriguing. The body of the boar didn’t catch up to the head as it trembled and stumbled around before finally collapsing. Another knife came up, and Orion waited a few minutes before a card appeared again and soon after, yet another boar fell victim to the same bolt that penetrated its skull. Upon seeing their fellow boars die, the rest of the sounder scattered away.

“Just two?” I asked.

“I can only carry one back at a time,” Orion shrugged. “And you said you would carry the other.”

“Actually... I said I would carry them all back,” I smiled at him knowingly, and Orion’s confusion was plain.

I placed the handle of the portable cart down and then pulled out my Expand card, throwing it on the wooden box frame. We both watched as the box expanded with wooden gears turning, panels unfolding, and a wood wagon the size of a small bus stop came into being. A sliding wooden door was on the side of the wagon, and display shelves were on the other side, right above the six wooden wheels, reinforced with black iron. An impressed Orion examined the cart, trying to slide open the door but finding it unable to move under his touch. When I reached for the door, it easily slid open to reveal a closet-size wooden room with my bowl of lye that I had previously stored there sitting on a shelf.

“Incredible. You have an amazing skill, almost as good as Bianca’s,” Orion stared in envy, his eyes wide with wonder and possibilities. “You’re a merchant class?”

“Bingo.” I showed him my Merchant card, expecting a better reaction, but he just read it analytically and nodded to himself as if it made sense.

“Toss the hogs in the wagon; we can probably fit four,” I said. “The space isn’t that big yet since I’m low-level.”

When Orion tried putting them into my storage, a blue barrier blocked it. With his help, I managed to load the carcasses into the wagon, the blue barrier letting them pass now that I was involved. Two more boars fell to Orion; he looked exhausted as he dragged them over, and we both piled them on top of the other two corpses. I noticed the four boars were all males and mature beasts at that.

Throughout all this, a dark blue raven watched Orion as he used his knife to remove the eyes from the boars to feed the bird.

“Hopefully, our piglets will grow soon, so we don’t have to rely on this method. It’s a lot of work.” Orion huffed with beads of sweat dripping down his face.

“But then we will lose our monopoly on boar fat,” I frowned with my hands on my hips.

“Our monopoly?” Orion raised an eyebrow.

“You’re a man who can get stuff. I’m someone who can sell it. Orion, sooner or later a monetary system will come to this place. Don’t you want to be on top of it?” I had my hand on his arm, caressing it gently with a knowing smile. “Don’t you think we make good partners?”

Ah, that boy sure tries to act cool, but in the end, he’s still a boy.

“Can you fetch me something that will make these soaps smell nice?” I asked. “Some of those flowers might be good; they smell fragrant.”

“We usually use those green citrus fruits back at camp for that smell,” Orion suggested.

“We can use those too, but we have to diversify. Offer our customers many varieties: citrus soaps, flower soaps, pine soaps, and all kinds of different soaps. It creates scarcity and choice.” I nodded to myself and threw my Collapse card onto the wagon after we secured our load.

“Seems like a whole lot of work for no reason,” Orion sighed and dragged the portable wagon alongside me.

“Good thing we have all the time in the world, don’t we?” I came next to him, taking his arm, which startled him. “...partner~”

Ah, what an innocent look. This boy is as green as the pastures those boars grazed in.

Orion, my sweet, you are going to help make me the richest person in this world.