[5 green bean seeds. C grade. These beans will multiply when harvested, fulfilling a self-growing, endless cycle. They will never run out, never die, and feed an army if properly harvested.]
Logan’s stomach dropped to the floor in shock. He’d bought the seeds because he had enough money left over—and for the small chance they were something more than what they appeared, but he’d never thought he’d be this blown away. If the description was accurate, that meant they now had a viable source of food.
They couldn’t live on green beans forever, but they wouldn’t starve.
Something didn’t make sense, however. If he were considered F Grade and the spatial collar storage was rated S Grade, how could this be rated C Grade? Logan had no delusions about his own rating—it was likely shit, so if an S Grade item could store a room, it had to mean the ratings were higher the lower you dropped on the alphabet. Yet the green beans were C Grade.
Truly bizarre.
One thing was certain, he needed to employ his [Life Cycle] skill to raise enough KarmaCoin to come back to the tree fridge. If a cat collar and green beans did that, what about the paperclip? But first he needed to grow what he had, and then think about protein for the group.
Logan tucked the pouch full of beans into his shirt pocket and then made the trek back to Jack’s. He ran into Matt on the way back who seemed focused on something on the ground, his spear gun in one hand.
“How’s it going?” Logan asked.
Matt startled and rose to his feet, turning in an awkward shuffle to face Logan. He tried to hide the spear gun behind his back and then seemed to think better of it, fiddling with it and giving Logan a bright grin.
Logan moved closer, coming at an angle, and Matt shuffled again as if he were trying to block something from view.
He was a weird dude.
“You’re still here,” said Matt, his narrow shoulders looking pointed. “I thought you abandoned us.”
Why would he think that? Logan had mentioned where he was going. “Just over at my property. What have you got there?”
All expression wiped off his face. “Nothing.”
“Ooookaaay.” Such a weird dude. “If you say so.”
Matt’s mouth twisted and then he stepped away, letting Logan have a look.
“Is that…?” There was a small furry animal covered in blood and dirt on the ground, the tip of the spear gun shaft through its belly. It had pointy ears and white fur, a tiny pink tongue sticking out of its mouth. The body was motionless, not a twitch to be seen.
A dead kitten.
Logan didn’t like to see it, but if the System could turn a regular squirrel into a monster, it could do the same to a kitten. “What level was it? Any offensive capabilities I should know about?”
Matt averted his gaze and tugged the spear gun shaft out of the small body with a slick sound. Then he held the corpse by its neck, gazing at it dispassionately.
Logan furrowed his brow. He had a sneaking suspicion he didn’t like. Would [Idiot’s Inspect] work on a dead body?
He soon had his answer.
[A feral kitten. Level 0. You do know this is dead, don’t you, Idiot?]
Logan swallowed and gave Matt a narrow-eyed look. “Doing some target practice, there?”
Matt turned up his nose and then threw the kitten into the bushes like a piece of discarded trash. “Might as well kill it before it tries to kill us. Cats are pests anyway.”
“Better not tell Jack that.” Logan sighed. Killing a defenceless kitten for no reason was serial-killer level creepy. He had no experience with male teenagers—his nieces were the extent of his experience with kids, but he was sure most normal adolescents didn’t go around killing balls of fluff.
To be fair, maybe the kid was still grieving and acting out. His spunky colleague had been in the other boat when it blew up. “I’m sorry about your co-worker. Sara, was it? You must have been close.”
Matt wiped the blood off the shaft onto his t-shirt and shrugged. “Not really. She was annoying. It was just a summer job, anyway.”
Not the response he was expecting. “What about your family? Are they okay?”
He shrugged again. “Don’t care. This is way too exciting. Levels? Skills? It’s like something out of a video game.”
Logan’s voice grew dubious. “You think the System Integration is exciting?”
“Why not?”
“The threat to your life, for one thing,” said Logan underneath his breath. The evidence against this kid continued to stack up. Logan hated to judge, but lack of empathy for his family and friends, lack of awareness of normal social cues, and the experimental killing of baby animals? It was difficult not to come to any other conclusion other than budding sociopath. Logan raised his voice. “Come on, let’s get back to Jack’s. I need your help with a project.”
While Matt was facing away from him, Logan made sure to tuck his new collar underneath his shirt and out of sight.
***
“We’re going to build a greenhouse,” said Logan to the group of people gathered around him. After they’d returned to Jack’s, he’d asked everyone to meet him outside. Next to the right side of the cabin, the area was south facing and would receive plenty of light.
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Tasha had her hands on her hips and was giving him a puzzled look, while Matt stared at the ground with a mulish expression. The others were either yawning or staring at their phones.
Jack glanced around the property, scanning the pine trees and bushes farther off before warily setting his shotgun down and leaning it against the side of the cabin. “Have you forgotten that I don’t have a green thumb? I have two thumbs, but they’re rotting thumbs. I kill plants. And I asked around and no one else is a gardener either.”
Logan tried to hide his worry. He’d been put into a leadership position for better or worse, but he’d always been in the background at work, slinking away, not raising his hand when management asked for volunteers. He didn’t know how to motivate a group. If they were already resistant, he had no idea what to do.
The woman in designer clothes raised her hand, her gold bracelet dropping down her wrist. “I grew a tomato plant on my patio once.”
“Great!” Logan said brightly, trying to project false cheer. “You can be our head gardener. But it doesn’t matter if we’re only semi capable. I have…” Logan hesitated. Something was telling him to keep the tree fridge close to his chest. “I have a new skill that should let us grow things quickly.”
Tasha surveyed their surroundings. They were standing on a patch of green grass, with dirt, gravel and weeds not far off. “How are we supposed to build a greenhouse with no tools?”
Logan grinned. “I thought you’d never ask. Back up a little, everyone.” He gestured and motioned them over but was met with blank stares. “Back! Back, come on.”
When they obeyed and he had enough space, he willed the storage room out of his collar. With a sound of rustling wind and creaking wood, it crashed more than settled onto the ground, the door shooting out of the doorway and landing five feet away with a clatter. A few pieces of ceiling tile tumbled to the floor and a plume of dust saturated the area, but other than the whole room tilting in one direction, so far so good.
Everyone made sounds of alarm, but Matt perked up, his eyes bright with interest.
“I give you a supply shop,” said Logan with a theatrical gesture of his arm.
Jack crept forward cautiously while the others murmured and gave him wide-eyed looks. “You did this?”
Logan hesitated again. He’d come to trust Jack and Tasha. At least to some degree. If it had just been them, he might have felt comfortable sharing that his ‘skill’ was really a funky cat collar, but what about the others? Matt was in the ‘hell no’ category, and the other people were already fighting amongst themselves. “It’s part of that new skill. I can make things appear. This shop has all my grandpa’s old tools. He was a pack rat, so there’s more than enough to build a greenhouse.”
They gave him impressed looks, while Matt looked even more eager. “I saw things like that online. One chick could make boulders appear out of thin air, another guy could set things on fire. On fire! Your ability isn’t as good, but it’s still something. How do I get that skill?” he demanded.
Logan scratched his neck and then shot Jack a glance. “You have to make a mistake, a mistake so bad it causes something horrible, and then have the wisdom to recognize what you did and the resolve to change.”
Matt gave him a blank look. “Huh?”
Sam raised her hand.
Logan shifted awkwardly. “Feel free to speak up, you don’t need my permission.”
“Okay… it’s just, why couldn’t you make a greenhouse appear rather than a tool shop? This seems like an inefficient way to employ a skill.”
The others were coming out of their dazzlement and grumbled in agreement. “Ah, it doesn’t work that way, sorry.” He could say it was just like the System, making him work for everything, but he felt bad lying about the tree fridge already without layering on further falsehoods.
Jack looked from Logan to the supply room and then grimaced in resignation. “You know what I do for a living, right?”
Jack was a corporate executive. “Yes?”
“I don’t know how to build things. You’re going to have to direct me.” He turned to the rest. “Let’s get to work.”
“Hold on,” said Tasha. “If you’re suggesting we build it here I have to be the voice of reason.”
Logan gave her his full attention. “I’m listening.”
“This is in full view of the water. The System blew up gas-powered boats, but you know how many canoes we have on this lake. There’s going to be desperate people paddling by eventually and they’ll be looking for food.”
She had a point. “You’re right. Let’s build it closer to the back, next to the driveway. That’ll block the direct view from the lake but still have south-facing sun. Once it’s up and running we might have to post guards too, something to monitor—”
“Mom had a video doorbell,” said Jack. “And security cameras. We don’t need guards. It’ll send an alert to my phone if anyone approaches at night.”
Logan had forgotten Eleanor and Jack were rich. He may have once felt bitter about that—security cameras were so far out of his budget it was laughable—but now, he’d take any advantage they could get. With Jack having solar panels, they’d also have no problem with power, but they might have to keep an eye on the network. Most security cameras nowadays relied on data or Wi-Fi, which could be a problem for them down the road.
“Even better,” he said and then gestured to the shed. “Grandpa has wooden boards stacked on one shelf. Not a lot, and they’re musty, but they should be enough for a frame. Sam and…” Logan gave her companion with the buzz cut and tattoo an inquiring look. “I don’t know your name.”
The man smiled, showing pearly-white teeth. “No worries. Sammy.”
Sam and Sammy? Ugh. There was nothing worse than couples with coordinating names. “Sam and Sammy, why don’t you start with the boards and carry them to the back. Matt, why don’t you…” Logan was going to suggest the buzzsaw and then thought better of it. “Why don’t you grab the plastic sheeting; there’s a roll of it at the back. Jack, you have the buzzsaw, and the rest—grab hammers, nails, anything you can think of that shouts ‘carpentering’ to you.”
Sammy flexed his shoulders. “I took woodworking in high school, so I might be able to help.”
At this point, Logan would take anything.
***
It took them all day and into the early evening to build a frame and affix the plastic sheeting to the sides. They ended up taking the door from the supply closet, cutting out the insides and affixing more sheeting to maximize the possible light.
The greenhouse was slightly larger than a garden shed, nowhere close to level, and leaning to one side. Oh well. What could he expect? Other than Sammy, no one had any experience with tools or building things—hell, Logan had to show Matt how to use a hammer.
As soon as it grew dark, Logan called it quits for the night and let everyone go inside. Although the roof wasn’t finished and the greenhouse was still open to the air, everyone had become jumpy, giving their surroundings wary looks and startling at every sound.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay out here with you?” asked Tasha. She’d found an old knife sheath in the supply room and repurposed it for the cleaver, splitting one side to cover the sharp edge. Then she’d wrapped a leather string around the handle, looping it around a belt she’d ‘borrowed’ from Jack so that her weapon would always be handy without accidentally cutting her. The System had rewarded her for her ingenuity—giving her a skill that functioned as a cleaver boomerang. Now, she could throw her cleaver, hit something, and it would come back to her hand.
“Nah, you head inside. I’ll be finished here in a little bit.”
Tasha shrugged and then left him to his devices.
There was another reason he wanted to be alone. He had a suspicion that his [Life Cycle] skill might be useful for things other than trees. Although the System had given the skill a narrow description, in essence, what was the difference between growing roots and shoots from a seed, whether that was a tree or a plant? It would be stupid not to at least try.
What he didn’t want was an audience. There was nothing worse than testing something for the first time, concentrating and making funny faces, while someone watched as if it were a spectator sport.
Logan had already dragged two shelves from the supply room to the greenhouse. Eleanor had ten large pots full of flowers at the front of the property which he’d repurposed, muttering an apology to Eleanor as he tore out the flowers, leaving bare soil.
With the seeds they’d purchased from Martin’s Convenience in hand, Logan was ready to become a [Life Cycle] green thumb master.