17 - The Thread That Connects all SIL

“It’s not all fun and games,” Maya said to the gathered men and women. The viewscreen before them showed a land of horror, of madness, of sickening brutality that stunned the mind. “You here, you who have been chosen to work and learn, to level your abilities; this is what you’re fighting against.”

A small caption below the screen displayed the name of the city, Faisalabad, Pakistan.

“Mana mutations aren’t the only monsters out there,” Maya said as she opened more viewscreens showing different shots of the city. Bodies littered the streets, more hung from metal spikes growing from the walls, while others were splayed out in horrible displays to frighten and shock.

Integration had come to Faisalabad, but along with it a power vacuum that needed to be filled. From what Maya and George were able to discern, half a dozen groups had organized and helped defend the city from the mana mutations and maintain a sort of stable coalition of different factions, based on religion, political belief, loyalty to a person, and various other things. The largest group had been the military, a Major Kader Mir of the Pakistan army had controlled more than half of the city.

That had lasted two weeks, until he had been assassinated by some other group. Since then things had developed into madness and death. Each group had moderately leveled soldiers and one group had invested heavily into mage classes. That’s where all the metal spikes were coming from, someone was trying to be Magento out there.

Maya watched as the satellites pinpointed the various heads of the organized groups. There were three religious groups, Hindus, Shia, and Sunni; two political groups, a fascist group and a group surrounding a warlord of some sort that called himself Imam Khan; then there was the military group that was controlled by another Major named Yousuf Dewan.

“That Dewan is an idiot,” had been George’s estimation of the man. He had the biggest, best organized, and heavily armed group, but he had already lost half of the territory he controlled and was losing morale of the people under his protection. Riots were breaking out over the lack of food and the brutality of his troops in putting down resistance.

Overall, it wasn’t a nice place to be. Maya and George had spent some time going over the satellite readouts, namely on who was doing what. The Hindus were mostly keeping to themselves, occasionally having to put down an enemy probe into their small portion of the city. The other two religious groups were fairly well behaved as anyone could be in a their situation.

It was the warlord and the fascist groups that were hitting the military hard. They made it a point to display the dead in an attempt to demoralize and terrify the populations. The military wasn’t a nice group either, they retaliated with the same brutality, not distinguishing between civilian and soldier.

The Khan’s group were mages of some kind. They seemed to be focused on moving metal and earth, creating solid barriers and tossing out lances of sharpened metal at troops. They caused the military group’s weapons to misfire or even turned them on their owners.

If she were a betting woman, Maya would have put her credits on Khan to win the city. It was going to be a brutal and bloody fight, one where none of the groups would come out unscathed. How many would die? Maya didn’t know, but she understood that it couldn’t allowed to happen.

Khan, the fascists, and the military were the groups that were doing more harm than good. Even the religious leaders were sketchy as best, but they weren’t outright butchering people in the streets to make a point. The most they were was sleazy scumbags who preyed upon the weak and desperate. Eventually they would get their comeuppance, but there were bigger fish to fillet.

“What is going to happen?” Pranee Chen asked. She was one of the workers from Ko Sumai, a eighteen year old former hotel maid turned [Salvager] and [Mechanic].

Maya looked at the woman. She had risen high in the last week of intense sorting and building. Gaining a few levels and increasing her own occupational levels; she had a real knack for system tech and Maya was already hoping she would continue on that path. George, Zoya, and Inez were the real engineers, but they were mostly focused on different things, in Inez’s case, keeping the Big Sig up and running as they plotted new areas to toss Sullivan Boxes.

“We could send in the drones,” Maya mused as she watched the images change. “Topple the leaders, install new ones and hope for the best.”

“The usual American strategy,” someone remarked.

“Totally. That’s a piss poor move, in Peru there was a clear and simple bad guy. Here you got like maybe two real bad guys and the rest are just gray area dickheels,” Maya said. “Plus I’m trying to stop mass murdering and the like, it’s never a good idea to literally do what you’re claiming to be trying to prevent.”

“I heard about Chimbote,” Pranee said.

“Yeah, I regret that. I don’t regret killing those bastards, but I regret how I did it. Oh, well. Live and learn,” Maya said. There was a murmur from the people around her. Maya ignored them. “The reason these guys are all crazy about killing one another is the lack of resources. There’s guns and bombs, there’s plenty of rubble to build your own tiny empire, but the food? The water? It’s pretty limited. Therefore they go at one another real hard.”

“So the humanitarian aid packages?” Pranee asked.

“No. That would only make things worse,” Maya replied. “They’re already killing one another and it’s gotten pretty bad. You don’t gut people, string them up across a street, and then paint messages in their blood without causing some hard feelings. If we toss them food and water and everything they need, besides more guns, then it’ll only up the violence. As they say, people do their best killin’ on a full belly.”

“No one says that,” Hanna replied.

“I’m trying to teach a lesson to the class, here.”

“Ah, the reme-uh-advanced class,” Hanna said. “Sorry to interrupt, but the settlement leaders are ready to begin the summit.”

“How’s Yosi handling it?” Maya asked.

“She’s very skilled and doesn’t take shit from the leaders. Being a Sullivan does give her leverage in dealing with them. It’s mostly good old human xenophobia, but about actual aliens this time.” Hanna chuckled. “The thresholds are working well too, she can open, close, adjust them with ease now.”

Maya grinned. She had given Yosi access to the Cage’s doorways. There always had to be one opened for the teleporter, as it’s antenna was always hanging out into space, but the second door could be moved around to collect the attendees for the meeting of the settlement leaders and pretty much every other leader they had found.

The Chicagoans had formed their own independent settlement, claiming they were Americans and would follow the true president of their nation. Which was fine to Maya, they weren’t asking for aid or cheap deals, instead were fine with the quality and the prices out of the Sullivan Box. With the knowledge that Maya had provided, their sphere of influence had already begun to expand across Illinois, where they had ‘freed’ several dozen towns and were now solidifying their gains under the US flag.

Maya wasn’t concerned that the Mayor would form his own tiny nation and declare independence. Even if he did, from what George had ferreted out a lot of the military and civilian leaders were tired of his shit. They would toss him out if they were offered a better deal.

That better deal was coming from California. Between San Diego and Los Angeles existed extensive military bases from all branches of the US armed forces. From what George was discovering, they had it rough, but they were organized and beginning to push back sea creatures and weird desert monsters.

They were on the list of places to connect the threshold with, but for now they had to do with only a Sullivan Box sent to the main military installation in San Diego.

“Well, I guess it’s break time,” Maya said. She looked to her small class and shrugged, “see you when I see you,” and then walked off.

“That’s how you do things?” Hanna asked.

“They’re all grown ups, they can handle themselves. Plus those that go back to work and try to figure out that system tech puzzle I’ve been having them do this last day will be the ones to keep an eye out for. If they’re just here to work for a wage, then that’s cool. The ones I’m looking for are the ones who want to learn and push themselves.”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Maya opened a window as they walked. It showed the room they had just left, half of the class had decided to leave, while the other half clustered up and discussed what they had learned. They began playing around with the system tech components, going over them and trying to figure out how to get the railgun working.

“See?”

Hanna snorted. “Do you spy on everything?” she asked.

“This Cage is literally a part of me,” Maya said. “If I wanted to, I could feel what everyone is doing and how they’re doing it, along with the mana they’re using and the shape it takes when they’re using it.”

Hanna shook her head. “Still pretty creepy,” she said. “I was always against surveillance in any situation. But… I guess you can’t really help it seeing that we’re basically living within an extension of yourself.”

“Sounds gross when you put it that way.”

“That’s just how you put it also!”

“I know, but the way you say it sounds gross.”

They turned down a long corridor. The walls were dull metal and there was a long strip of glowing light down the center. Occasionally they would pass by heavy metal doors, but the corridor was utterly devoid of any embellishments or oration, only the low music of some pop song that was popular before Integration played softly from speakers.

“I hate this corridor,” Hanna said.

“It’s the industrial wing,” Maya said. “It’s industrial.”

“I know you can make windows, sure they don’t lead anywhere, but they look real. You could set up some windows along the walls, let in natural light. This corridor feels like it should be in a horror movie; what’s with the rust in the corners, they look like old blood.”

“I guess it’s just the default texture,” Maya said peering at a rusted spot that looked suspiciously like a spot where blood had once pooled.

“We don’t need more engineers or mechanics,” Hanna said. “We need an interior decorator,” Hanna looked around, “and architect.”

“Hey, that’s mean. I like the way I build things.”

“That’s the problem,” Hanna said. “You like the way you build things.”

“Maybe there are some designers from the people sent from Chimbote and Ko Sumai,” Maya said.

“None. I already checked. I guess we could ask the settlement leaders to see if one made it through. There were supposed to make a list of the skills and occupational abilities that they have and need. Both System given and previously held.”

“Everyone wants to be an enchanter,” Maya said. “After they saw what can be done.” One of the many demonstrations had been the enchanted gear that had been salvaged. At low-grade a SIL could only wear a single enchantment, but scores were asking if they could learn it.

Enchanting was one of the things that Maya had no idea where to begin at. She knew it used mana channels to warp the mana of a material into doing something, but as she didn’t have mana channels she couldn’t imagine how it worked. Izumi was the only one who was focused on enchanting. He had spent days stuck in his workshop trying to make a simple enchantment.

Maya didn’t know how it was going, but after his little explosion on the 4S he had been permanently moved to the Cage where his explosions wouldn’t hurt too much. Maya occasionally checked in on him, to make sure he wasn’t dead or starving himself, but for the most part she left him alone with his research and access to any kind of material he wanted to experiment with.

“It’s a shame that it’s a knowledge branch that is hidden in secrecy and ancient rituals,” Hanna said.

“Nah, its just people wanting to keep their secrets to make mad stacks off of it. Eventually we’ll figure it out, there is an entire multiverse out there with knowledge. We need to really get out there and not rely so much upon Asoltolia for all our goods. I trust the Domakuns as far as I can throw ‘em, as least with Peg and the others I’m the big fish with all the levels.”

“Kick the asses of those below you, kiss the asses of those above you,” Hanna said. “I guess that’s the thread that connects all SIL.”

“Heh, you’re saying it now.”

“What?”

“SIL.”

“Oh…”

“Soon you’ll be thinking in meters and standard days, weeks, and years.”

“I already think in meters,” Hanna said. “It’s apart of the whole International thing. You ever hear of the Mars Climate Orbiter? NASA lost over a hundred and twenty-five million dollars on that sucker because we used Imperial measurements and everyone uses Metric.”

“Weird how the System standard for measurements equals our own metric system, right? Whereas days are thirty hours long and years are four hundred standard days.”

“The weird part is that a second is still a second in System time,” Hanna said. “Sixty seconds to a minute, sixty minutes to an hour, thirty hours to a day. That’s weird because I would think time would be one fo those arbitrary measurements that change from species to species.”

“Maybe I’ll ask the System next time we meet,” Maya said.

“Eh, I hear you only do that when you nearly die.”

“Trust me, attending this whole settlement leaders and state of the world meetings is going to kill me.”

“Better you than me,” Hanna grinned. They stood before another massive door of metal. It slid open, whisper quiet for its massive size. There was a lobby on the other side, filled with nearly three hundred people talking and laughing with one another.

“Thank the gods that Asoltolia had all those low grade translators to sell. She said she took them off a junk trader ship that was running a blockade to a station one year.”

“Gotta love space mercenary pirate traders,” Hanna said.

“I got an ear full from some dude that thought I was from the African delegation. Thought I did not know English,” Maya snorted.

“I hear there’s gonna be one hell of an afterparty tonight in the Foreign Dignitary Quarters,” Hanna said.

“Who says that?”

“The grapevine. Yosi doubled the order of Asoltolia’s home-brew and got in contact with some guy in Ko Sumai that has been collecting expensive liquors. All the things you should have been already doing, like nice mattresses, fine sheets, fluffy towels, to wow and amaze the attendees.”

“Seems like a chore,” Maya said.

“Oh, it is, but everyone’s been living in shit the last three weeks now. A soft bed, a hot shower, a chance to dress up again for anything, that’s what they’re craving. There are gonna be so many people hooking up tonight, I bet they’ll be an orgy.”

“Gross,” Maya said.

“People will be people and banging is a big part of being people.”

“I thought it was thought, logic, and reason?”

Hanna laughed. “I got my eye on this fine cigar smoking gentlemen from Cuba.”

“Oh, I should sell those too,” Maya made a note. “Cuban cigars are supposed to be artificially considered the best. Due to market manipulation and trade embargoes.” Maya paused. “Oh, now I got an idea.”

“I’ll see if the guy has a friend,” Hanna said.

“No. Not that. I mean how to deal with Pakistan.”

“Cigars?”

“Trade embargo.” Maya clarified.

“What’s that going to do?”

“We show up, show them all the fancy ass stuff they could have and then say, ‘Well, maybe stop butchering people in the streets and work together in harmony and you too can have all this fancy ass stuff’.”

“Yeah, that probably won’t work.”

“As George would say, ‘the common folk want to live a simple life of toiling in the fields and bowing to their betters’. I personally just believe that people want to live the simple life. We give them a taste of that sweet, sweet image of life before Integration and they’ll be putty in my manipulating hands.”

“By showing them stuff they could buy?”

“Yeah, totally. People may shit on it, but everyone wants stuff to make their lives easier. Would you want to live in a devastated city with no clean water, mana mutations running amok, no food, and with the guy in charge being like “kill these other guys for a half a loaf of stale bread or be killed for not killing’? Our stocks aren’t just all guns and ammo anymore, we’re getting some good stuff from Asoltolia and the Trade Network. Infrastructure stuff, not just personal goods.

“Ko Sumai is just the testbed for all the stuff we’re looking into. Training people, setting up a system tech based infrastructure, which includes power, water, and all the necessities to make life good. It’s a good place to work out the kinks before we do a full rollout on all the settlements.”

“You plan to do what you’re doing in Ko Sumai everywhere?” Hanna asked.

“That’s a roger, good buddy. Well, those that are under our corporate umbrella. Unless they’re in desperate need; focus will be on our allies.”

“You really need to hire that architecture and maybe some designers, stat.” Hanna said.

Maya frowned. “I don’t think that-“

“Trust me. Just trust me,” Hanna said. “I saw your original designs for the worker houses.”

“There was nothing-“

“People have suffered enough, they don’t have to live in those places.”

Maya sighed. “Fine. You go look for these people, I’ll just start working on how it’s all supposed to fit together.”

“That’s engineering for you,” Hanna said. “That’s why I prefer biology.” She wagged her eyebrows at Maya. “Especially a certain someone’s biology.”

Maya followed her gaze to see a man in a dapper suit talking with a group of people. When the representatives from the various settlements had all arrived, the common wear was post-apocalyptic chic. Tattered clothing, leather and metal armor, crude weapons, and hygiene that had been put on hold for survival.

Yosi and Hanna had immediately began modifying clothing and duracloth to clothe the attendees. It was a good thing that time within the Cage was different than on Earth, for the meeting had to be delayed for an entire day to accommodate clothing requests.

Maya didn’t begrudge them the time taken to get new clothes and grooming products. Dressing the part was a huge confidence booster for people. If they came to the meeting looking like the refugees they technically were, then it would put them on a mental backfoot which would only lead to later resentment and feelings of being cheated. They were all here to build a working coalition of information and resources to help grow and defend their settlements.

Having groups at odds with one another wasn’t Maya’s plan. She needed them all working together. Hence the free clothing, room and board, food, and even drinks. They were getting the five star treatment, minus the bellboys and girls, and a wait staff. She probably would have won them over with a new pistol and a hot shower.

Hanna raced off and Maya stood there alone for a moment, taking in the crowds. Heads began turning as they noticed her, in a worn ship suit, some gunk on her clothing, and a toolbelt she had forgotten to take off when leaving the classroom.

“Oh, hell,” Maya muttered.

Yosi appeared at her side, looking her up and down. “I had some clothing made for you,” she said. “Earth formal clothing so that you would not look like a murdering wanderer.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Maya replied.

“Well, you are the one who said dress for the job you want.” Yosi shook her head. ‘Anyway, that’s not the problem. The real problem is that I think your America has begun a civil war.”