“Wait, please! Maybe we can reach a deal!” pleads Hrukupz as he shakes Nzeng awake with urgency.
She opens her mouth to say no, but I smoothly cut her off. “Very well, gentlebeings. We can wait for your deliberations. Come up with valuable goods or information that might interest us — the human race or the Unity. I’m sure you know that the Market enforces the challenge’s results and it will be worse for you if you try to bamboozle us.”
“Barro! What the fuck?!” she shouts at me, Reader promptly having initiated a private chat after I gave him our sign, a circling gesture with my finger.
“Don’t get drunk on your victory, Santos. Even in victory you should keep a clear head around here.
“But you gave our race and affiliation away!” she complains, pointing to the duo having a terse conversation of their own.
“You can’t win what you need if people don’t know what it is, Santos. What can you tell us about the win, Reader?”
“This… This was a really nice one, Rafael. I’ll show you their current inventories — remember we have no claim on items they had already put up to auction, just these. And also that we owe 20% of the money to Glider and Gambler.”
Nzeng’s Forfeit Property.
— 76k creds.
— 2 Crates of Runed Elemental Manarifles. 40 rifles per Crate. (est. 20k creds)
Second Generation Av'dan Rechargeable Rifes. Aproximately 150 Earth-years old.
Considerations: Fair improvement to our modded Earth and ancient alien laser weapons.
— 6 Shards of True Thunder. (est. 30k creds)
96% refined Thunder Essence.
Considerations: Our spellcasters can use it on many avenues of research or it might be used to power powerful automatic emplacements.
— 1 Unidentified Magical Egg. (can’t estimate, unknown)
Shell: one leather-like layer, one calcium shell layer, and 1/3 unspecified substance (Magical? Need to investigate).
Planet of Origin: Unknown
Creature Type: Unknown
Species: Unknown
Considerations: Even the Market refrains from guessing on this one.
— 3 lots of Gnodarian Slaves. (I refuse to make an estimation on sentient value, Lieutenant)
Composition: 30 slaves per lot. Mixed adult and infants. Beings of all three genders.
Considerations: A problem for our superiors.
Hrukupz’ Forfeit Property.
— 64k creds.
— 600 tons of Cloud-Gyask Meat. (est. 150k creds)
Valuable Commodity.
Farmed at Cloud-Planet Aheiry X8AE5.
Considerations: Use it for credits.
— Volo’dar Space Sensor Array (est. 25k creds)
3rd Generation Ayoban Stellar Inc. Sensor Array
Considerations: Might be of use to Longcannon's fortification of the Solar System.
“Jesus…” I say, eyes wide and mouth hanging open after reading the screen.
“And you’ve won 9k creds on your bet that both Nzeng and Hrukupz would bet higher,” it adds. Don't discount that money just because we've won it big, 9k creds are nothing to scoff at. I'm sure my partners have made a lot more money — they had more spare to bet.
“We’re rich!” cheers Santos, pumping her fists.
“Lieutenant… These guys were morons,” concludes Reader. “And I demand that we keep the Gnodarians and free them,” the AI says with finality, daring us to challenge him.
“Of course, buddy. We’re with you on that,” I agree.
“Hmmm, I could use them—”
“No, you can not, Lieutenant Santos,” Reader replies harshly, surprising me for his unusual vehemence. “We do not use slaves whatsoever, and I highly suggest you do not repeat that mistake. The Unity does not accept it, and it will be a dark stain on your record.”
Fuck, I didn’t know it could be so intense. Reads Meticulously is turning out to have a lot more spunk that what his chosen name would suggest. Go, Reader!
“Erm— yeah, okay, Reader. I’m sorry,” she apologizes, hesitant.
“And with that out of the way, let’s see what we can work with,” I push on. “Can we even eat Cloud-Gyask Meat, Reader?”
“No, they have an arsenic DNA-base, it’s most poisonous in fact.”
“But we can sell it, it’s very expensive!” complains Santos, scowling and crossing her arms.
“Yeah, but we can use it as a trading chip.”
“A trading chip for what?” she asks, still upset.
“Santos, I’m starting to get disappointed on you. Aren’t you an *intelligence* officer? What do you think is the most valuable commodity?”
“Oh, you mean information?”
I just stare at her until she drops her head, embarrassed. “You know what, let me do the negotiating, ok?” Damn, I hope she isn’t stubborn about it. I’m not impressed at all so far.
“Okay…”
Well, at least there’s that. Reader drops our private chat nearly at the same time as our vanquished foes.
“You’re humans, right?” asks Hrukupz, and I shrug in an ambivalent gesture, nor agreeing nor denying. “We have information about your people that should interest you very, very much. We want the Gyask Meat, the rifles and the slaves back.”
“You’re being to vague, and for the price of what you’re asking I’m sure I could buy the information myself tenfold,” I counter, unruffled.
“Oh, but this is not information you’ll get here. This is something I heard from a Cannibal back home, and I think you’ll be most interested.”
A message pop up at the corner of my (much diminished) overlay.
“We are most interested,” I reply, deadpan. “How the human race is hurting for numbers, horrible truly.”
“I’m telling you, you can’t get this information any other way, do you want it or not?” replies Nzeng, supporting his buddy.
“The slaves are forfeit. I’m willing to pay one quarter of the Gyask Meat and half a crate of rifles for the information.”
“No, that’s virtualway robbery. Three quarters of the Gyask Meat, one crate of rifles and 15k creds.”
Fuck, greedy assholes.
“Half of the Meat is the best I can do, and one crate of rifles.”
“Put at least two of the Thunder Shards and 5k then, and it’s a deal.”
“Very well, it’s a deal.” A very expensive 105k creds deal. But I have an inkling that I really need that information, and I do not have access to those circles. If they lie and the information isn’t of interest to me? The Market will consider them to have defaulted on the deal. The Market considers the impact of an information by analyzing the party’s visceral reaction to it and they’re very effective at it. But it’s not without risk — some few, veteran species with good reaction control can spoof the sensors. It’s not a deal made in the high circles because of that chance.
“I heard from a Gourmand friend of mine that the Cannibals were complaining that the Grays’ supply of human meat was faltering. So they rounded up the slaves to begin two meat farms in two different planets. I’m passing you the coordinates of both planets.”
Motherfuckers. I feel my blood boiling even in the virtual space, and the Market considers their part of the deal has been upheld. Unity Command suspected something like that was happening after Carries a Longcannon shut down their raiding and snatching. These two made a costly mistake, but they are far from stupid. Just by keeping their ears open for casual information they have recovered a share of their loss — and a true fortune by human standards. The Unity will descend on the Grays like the hammer of god. They were sorely pissed with the way we farmed non-sentient animals for meat, you can imagine how they will react to sentient abuse.
“That’s… most useful information. Reader, transfer them the goods we’ve agreed on. I trust you’re not indebited to the Market and that we will deal again, hopefully in more mutually beneficial terms. The 4k creds I’ve added as an extra are an incentive for you to keep your ears open. Bring this information for us and we’ll pay you — not as well as this time, but we will.”
The aliens trade a glance, voice their agreement and scurry out of our sights to lick their wounded wallets and lament their excessive greed. But hopefully they don’t see us necessarily as adversaries. I’ve just extended a hand to the suckers, and I hope they will come with valuable information to me someday. But I sigh at spending the betting money so fast — 9k could buy me very interesting things.
“Shit,” says Santos, shocked at the information. “We need to establish people here as soon as we can, we can’t miss this kind of information.”
“You do,” I agree. “But you’ll need valuable goods to exchange for credits. I can give you some pointers on trading, but I’m not cut out for your work.”
“Could have fooled me,” comments Reader.
“I agree,” says Santos, nodding. “And I do want the pointers, I’ll report them all back if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t. Reader, please transfer our colleagues the money, and tell me how much we’ve got. Half to Santos, half to me, is that okay?” Santos nods in agreement, knowing very well she would never have done without my experience and advice.
The twelve minute Switch comes to an end, and the chimes throughout the Market announce a new time. They have their own names for them, but the Quartermasters decided to create more matching denominations to make it easier for us to remember what each period stands for. So, Eleventh Hour, Witching Hour, High Noon… There are many, changing randomly, but now Eureka is a good one for our purposes. Inventors abound.
“With the auctioneer and Market’s fees paid, it’s around 50k credits to each of you, plus 35k credits for the Meat. So, a bit more than 85k credits for each of you, plus the goods,” Reader continues the conversation regardless of the switch.
“This was incredibly lucrative… Do you do it often, Barro, can we repeat it?”
“No, Santos. I know it’s an allure, but everything would have failed if they hadn’t gotten caught up in the moment. You’d just have paid 55k credits for the Minor Listening Scroll. Our colleagues probably dealt behind our back in case this fell through, and there was still the risk of them betraying us altogether. This is actually the biggest swindle I’ve ever done - maybe the whole division.”
“It is indeed,” says Reader. “You beat Lieutenant Colonel Polanski by at least 30k credits, besides the things we can’t put a price on and the ones we should keep. I suggest we give it all to Command and let them decide.”
“Sounds good to me,” agrees Santos. “I came here to get intelligence-related stuff, not these.”
“So I guess it’s shopping time now. I’ll get to buy some of the things that have been on my wishlist for so long. And I’ll make a party to rock Geni’s mind.”
“A party, Barro…? It feels wrong somehow, planning a party even as humans are being kept like animals in meat farms…”
“The 2nd regiment deserves it, even if I personally don’t feel as enthusiastic as I was after hearing it. But we’ve gotta learn to separate things and enjoy the victories we get, cliche as it sounds. The universe will chew us and spit us out when it pleases, but it doesn’t erase everything else.”
We stand in silence for a moment until Reader interjects, “Smooth, Rafa. Have you been reading self-help books, existential crisis maybe?”
“Fuck you, you faulty toaster.” **BZZZT**
“Would that I could. You lot seem to like it a lot.”
The moment is completely broken by its irreverence, and we all laugh together.
“Can you set up a search holo for me like before, Met?” Santos asks.
“Only if you stop calling me Met. Either Reader os Reads Meticulously.”
“Eh- all right, I guess.”
“Yeah, don’t mess with me boy,” I raise a fist, mock booing her.
“I’m not your boy either, I’m a neuter,” the traitor shuts me down.
“Nobody cares—” **BZZZT**. “Fucking VI…” I mutter, trying to remember if the thing always could work inside the Market’s virtual space.
“Barro, the Barker items’ auction is on fire,” tells me Reader, shaking me from my thoughts.
“Obviously, what did you think would happen with bark?” I quip shamelessly, making Santos shake her head. But she’s too busy
“Dumbass. Fera said 5600 credits? They are on 12k and going strong. Ah, I see you hired Deities.”
“Seems to be as good as promised, doesn’t he?”
“Sure does. He’ll come looking for us when it’s over. Here’s your search holo, get a-buying, I’ll handle the rest.”
I budget 100k to spend, not willing to waste more money than I’m sure I’ll have. I’ll set aside generous (ridiculous) 3k for the party— the second regiment was the one that got me the Barker collectibles after all (and saved my sorry ass, but who’s counting?). I’ll try for one or two Scroll with multi-utility spells and one Weapon Fabricator Rights our lackluster fabricators can produce. Fabricator Rights are far less expensive than Schema because the former have a time or quantity limitations while the latter don’t. An Enchanter Scroll would be golden as well, but they are absurdly expensive — no one wants to create more competitors. We’ll have to wait until commands deigns to assign us one — 1rst Regiment has a handful, of course.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“Hey, Reader. Can you pick us a few bundles of exo-gear, biomechanical mods and rituals? Run through then and select the ones that match more closely the waiting list? Also look for bargains and interesting ones that might come in handy.” I’m gonna have to pick some myself after this, but Reader can do this a lot better than I.
“What’s my budget?”
“Ahn… You can have 32k.” That way I’ll have 65k for my objectives.
Let me begin with the Scrolls — it’s a big disadvantage of ours — no one in the 2nd Regiment can blast someone away with magic. As I’ve said, fucking 1rst Regiment gets the best everything, and we’re left to play catch up with our own measly resources. I’ll just edit some parameters… They are sorted by estimated difficulty level, though in practice spellcasters may excel in certain schools of magic or elements and find certain spells easier to learn. With my paltry magic channels, it’d be foolhardy to try and use magic — how I wish I had been able to select a spell-oriented occupation…
Amateur-Novice Scrolls on Sale
— Levitate (Amateur; Air Evocation)
Initial Bid: 15k
— Blessing of Haste (Amateur; Time Abjuration)
Initial Bid: 20k; Buy-Out: 55k
— Earth Manipulation (Amateur; Earth Transmutation)
Initial Bid: 20k
— Basic Runecraft Theory (Amateur, Rune-Magic)
Initial Bid: 30k
— Harden (Novice; Enchanting)
Initial Bid: 150k
— Fire Blast (Novice; Fire Evocation)
Initial Bid: 50k; Buy-Out: 115k
Earth Manipulation seems to be a really versatile spell, but… Runecraft? It can work like a poor-man enchanting by itself or be used in a proper enchantment. It has uses in combat as well… Yeah, that’s definitely in the list, I’ll even forego the fairly more common Earth Manipulation if I can. I should clarify that we have found two runemasters on Earth — one is becoming senile and the other is a pacifist who refuses to use his art - or teach it - for military purposes. There probably are more in less developed regions, but magic users are very slow to trust. I roll up my virtual sleeves and join the auctions. The Runecraft Scroll will help us fill gaps in our surviving knowledge and ensure that we can teach the art to new people more easily.
The first auction to happen is the Earth Manipulation one, so I head towards the indicated auctioneer block, waving a see-you-soon to my partners. There’s only one other destitute participant, and I win with a bid of 27k — far cheaper than I’d dared hope. I pay for the bargain of a Scroll, apparently made in old fashioned papyrus-like shape, while the auctioneer laments the lack of more interested parties, eerily shaking his two heads in complete sync — an ordinary-symbiont pair from the Paired Nations it seems. They are one of the few powers not lead or controlled by AIs, though they aren’t heavy hitters compared to the Unity or the Swarm.
Earth Manipulation Scroll
Earth Transmutation Spell
Amateur Difficulty
Manipulate the earth, moving and shaping it to your purposes.
Low Mana Cost, increases with the speed of casting.
To my dismay, I find High Glider is to be a participant in the auction for the Runecraft Scroll when I arrive. There are at least half a dozen others around.
“Glider,” I greet him, hiding my worry at his presence. I know he must have some reasonable amount of credits — we transferred hefty sums both for the Listening Scroll and as a pay-off for his duplicity at the auction.
“Greetings, earthling Black,” he says, letting me know he caught wind of the information we had to reveal while negotiating with our opponents.
“That’s mildly offensive,” I answer in good cheer, not pointing out what part of it. “Call me Black Bear, please. Are we gonna compete for this one, High Glider?”
“I sense that you want this, yes?”
“Sure, we could use it,” I reply, nonchalant.
“Can’t promise anything, but I’ll try to consider your need,” he says, an obvious undertone in it. If he’ll consider my needs, I would do well to consider his, basically. Can’t say that I’m surprised or that I feel betrayed, I’d probably do something similar.
“Works for me. Let’s see how it goes.”
A message pops up at my overlay.
Fuck yeah! I have around 48k. I wonder if it’ll be enough. The auctioneer starts it, and people bid furiously. 30k, 33k, 36k, 40k, 43k, and I’m officially preoccupied. I message Reader to warn him I'm spending the money of three of the True Thunder Shards. I need the money, that's another 15k credits to fight this.
“48k!” I bid, raising it some, and scaring many of the competitors out of the fray.
“51k.” someone meets my challenge.
“56k.” I counter, staring at my opponents until they flinch.
Well, nearly all of them. Only one otter bidder (pun intended, he does look somewhat like a nebulous otter) remains, and he stubbornly raises it again, “59k!”
“64k,” I answer, keeping a straight face but wincing internally for spending a 1000 credits I wanted to use for the party.
“67k,” he raises again and I’m afraid I’ll have to admit defeat. The chime for the Switch sounds again, and it seems this will be a 7 minute one. The next one will be Reader and Santos’ last, and I won’t stay here longer than they. Reader is too important to improve my changes of playing well on the Market, and we’ve done very well already. I’m the quit while you’re still winning kind of guy. Well, damn shame that the fugly otter doesn’t seem to know the meaning of the word quit.
“Hey, Black Bear,” High Glider calls me, startling me. I completely forgot he was still by my side in the heat of the moment.
“Yeah?”
“I’ll buy half your crate of rifles for the full 10k.”
I frown. “And what will it cost me? I do not trade slaves, nor drugs or other evil shit,.”
“A comparable favor in a later date. No 'evil shit'.”
I hate owning unspecified favors, and the 5k credits he is nearly giving me are one hell of a favor. “Deal,” I agree and we make the transaction fast.
“Hey, 72k!” I turn back to the auctioneer, shouting my bid when he’s about to end it. The otter-alien gives up and goes away, cursing. Bastard nearly had it.
“I’ll see you around, Black Bear.”
“Hmm. Thanks, High Glider.”
I think this was by far the most expensive item we have ever bought (at least on the 2nd Regiment). Fuck, I’m sure this favor will come into play in an unfortunate moment in the future. But the Runes are probably worth it on the long haul.
Just as it finishes, I’m accosted by Reader and an enthusiastic Deities — the outstanding Completionist auctioneer. Auctioneers are obliged to have an avatar matching with their species, so I know what he looks like: a huge, mobile predatory plant with vines for appendages, a fang-filled flytrap-like main mouth and stalks for sensory organs. A fearsome, quick-thinking mythic species that ruled over a continent on their homeworld from what I could gather with my background check on him.
“Congratulations on your victory, gentlebeing Black Bear! And thank you very much for seeking my expertise on the matter, it was a great auction!”
“Thank you, gentlebeing Deities. I was warned, but your skill still impressed me,” I reply.
“I believe Deities wish to talk of gods, the last part of your deal,” says Reader.
“Of course. But may I ask why do you care about gods, Deities? It seems like most people let go of the concept after entering the galactic scenario, and things are still in flux back home. I ask, honestly interested at the subject matter. My mother, a strict evangelist of one of the myriads of churches that rose up throughout the country, from rich neighborhoods to the poorest favelas and furthest corners of Brazil. Some are good, like ours, some are very bad — the main ones, filthy rich from extracting all the pennies they can from their followers’ very livelihoods, come to mind.
“Oh yes, it can be very traumatic joining the galactic civilization, can’t it?” he nods sagely.
Everyone and everything is still coming to terms with the new, abrupt galactic order we were introduced to; churches and religions more than most. If you thought the shiite-suni conflicts were bad, you couldn’t imagine how chaotic the situation in the Middle East is right now. Except from the Kurds, who asked Unity protection from persecution, no other local nations have pledged themselves to the Multi-Unity Alliance. Nations who tried to stop the Kurdish secession found themselves unable to penetrate the portable shields that Longcannon deployed, and unable to support the retaliatory sanctions and instant pariah status until they dropped the matter. No shots fired — hella competent those two AIs. Other separatists also seized the opportunity, enjoying the broad concept of nation held by the Unity, though not the fundamentalists.
“It sure is from the news I hear,” I agree.
“Before I answer your question, may I ask about your religiosity, Black Bear?”
“Sure. I haven’t got much of one. If there’s a god, he hasn’t seen fit to look my way very often, I think. Maybe there is one, but how should I know? I’m not big on blind faith, but I don’t know what is and what isn’t true. So I prefer to let people hold their own beliefs while worrying about living my life by my own code.”
“Ah, a most interesting position. You’re an agnostic. I’ll answer you now: I collect stories about deities because I find fascinating to study their impacts on sentients’ manner of thinking. How it grows, changes and adapts to different times and periods of their evolution. There’s a mindblowing difference between gods of sentients raised in different conditions, for example. And some surprising similarities too.
“So, you’re more of a scholar, Deities?”
“You could say so, though I don’t pretend to be a master of the subject. For all we know, the strength of true belief might actually give life to these abstract constructs. It can empower people to do extraordinary deeds — there are spellcasters who identify themselves as priests serving certain gods, for example, and get stronger the more they believe.”
“I… actually didn’t know that,” I reply, scratching my head as I try to remember a previous mentions.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever read about it either,” says Reader, taking a hand to its chin.
“You’ll learn that the Unity has some quirks — amongst them a general dislike for religion. They probably don’t want to disseminate that information and are controlling it.”
“Can’t say that I care about their dislikes — I just want more spellcasters if they are to be found. What about the afterlife, hauntings and such, Deities? And each religions’ boogeymen, like our demons?”
“The afterlife is a mystery yet uncracked, I’m afraid — it’s part of why religions persist to this day. And there are some very bizarre psychological and magical disorders are known to happen with scant reasons why in areas where there are beliefs about it… So, who knows?”
“You’ve given us much to think about, Deities. But you came here for information, so I’ll tell you what I can remember, and Reader can fill the gaps.”
I tell him about God, the Christian and Islamic views of him and its creation myth; I tell him about the recently so popular Nordic pantheon; about the ancient Egyptians’, Greeks’ and Romans’. But what really catches his attention are the Brazilian natives’ gods and religions, and the African-Brazilians’ religious syncretism. I’m not a deep connoisseur, but I tell him about the thunder-god Tupã, the forest-protector Caipora (yes, some mythics enter history like divinities, the river-bound Iara among then), the moon goddess Jaci, and so many others. I tell him how the slaves brought their faith and creeds, resisting even under their captors’ whip, and tracing parallels with Christianity to survive to this day in the form of Candomblé and Umbanda.
“Those, those are such rich lores…” He says, emotion making his terrifying mouth quiver, belying the apparent gentle soul of the mythic. “You two must tell me more the next time we have business. Please ask for more information from trusty sources — I’m even willing to pay for it.”
“I’ll certainly do,” I reply, grinning and eager. Hot damn, who would have thought our underappreciated, half-forgotten beliefs
“But I’m sure I’ve taken enough of your time. Thank you again, Reader and Black Bear. I hope to hear again from you.”
“You certainly will,” I reply and we say our farewells.
Now, now I buy the stuff for Geni’s party and some regular Quartermaster-y stuff. The switch ends, and I’m tired of narrating shit. You’ll have to learn about the goodies with the rest of the guys, suckers.