Chapter 27 - Upgrades

I traveled through the bourgeois suburban landscape on my way to the Eden West MAR Station, constantly on guard for any signs of the elusive Volunteer whose name I didn’t know. On the other side of the street a mother and son passed on the sidewalk, walking a meticulously groomed pharaoh hound on a leash attached to a bejeweled collar.

I glanced in their direction. For a split second, one or more of the figures almost seemed to skip a frame, like some visual glitch had occurred. I rubbed my eyes and looked again.

I’m tired. My mind must be playing tricks on me.

I boarded the bullet train, taking the Gold Line to the Platinum Line back in the direction of the MAR Master Terminal. All the while I sat in the train car I brooded violently over the betrayal. I fantasized about finding that little man, bludgeoning him, strangling him, drowning him.

I’ve got to get a grip.

The truth was I didn’t stand a chance against him. Not yet. I wasn’t strong enough. Wasn’t skilled enough. Wasn’t equipped enough to exact revenge.

I thought of the paralysis poison. Had I higher statistical value invested in Resistance, might I have withstood or avoided that status ailment? Might I have recovered faster? I gnawed my lower lip in frustration.

I had one of the Volunteer’s throwing knives tucked away under my Equipment menu. Maybe I could use that to somehow track him down. But why bother? Maybe this fixation on vengeance was a waste of time. A distraction from what I really needed to do. At least he had only temporarily paralyzed me. He could have used much deadlier poison if that was his intention.

He did leave me to the mercy of ravenous kappas though…

Wanting to spend as little time at the Master Terminal as possible, I quickly transferred to the Diamond Line in the direction of The Commons. The three rides cost me a total of 30 Crypt.

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Now arriving at The Commons Station.

Finally I returned to my dismal home, which right now I found oddly comforting. Or at least familiar. I walked the neon-bathed streets under the perpetually dark sky, heading in the direction of the Task Assignment Boards. I was ready to draw any and all weapons at the slightest provocation.

[Task Complete: Remove Minotaur from Grand Central Park in Eden West

Assigned to: Volunteer 01001110 01101111 01100010 01101111 01100100 01111001.

Task Completion Award: 3,000 Crypt

Would you like to receive payment?]

Yes, dram it.

The 3,000 Crypt streamed into the chip in the back of my head, bringing my new total to 6,830. I would reserve 100 for my next data backup, but right now I had some decisions to make. I had money to spend, a small quantity of Crystals, and these two mysterious pages.

[INVENTORY

* MISCELLANEOUS

* * Voynich Manuscript page (?)

* * Voynich Manuscript page (?)]

Paranoid, I made sure nobody else was in the vicinity as I examined the pages under my Inventory, bringing the image of each up to hover and rotate in front of my inner perception.

Each sheet, composed of old paper or parchment, took up 5 metabytes, and were obviously pieces of a larger whole. But I could see no purpose or use for them individually. Examining them, they were not identical.

The weathered pieces of parchment were the color of old ivory, stained at the edges. Lines of delicate script in a language I did not recognize covered the pages. There were strange patterns and diagrams. Most striking were vivid ink illustrations of plants. Leaves, flowers, twisting roots, vines, bulbous structures. I was no expert in botany, so I didn’t put much stock in the fact that I could not recognize or identify any of the flora depicted.

Hmmm. I recalled that the leader of the Serpents, der Schlächter, had offered to ‘pay handsomely in Crystals’ for any Relics I recovered. Did these invasive anomalies–these manuscript fragments–qualify as Relics? I also thought of Fancy Jack, the self-professed pacifistic herbalist. I wondered if he could make sense of these drawings, or at least be interested in them.

I closed my Menu and stepped away from the Task Assignment Boards. I walked over to the building where Camel had once rescued me from a nasty encounter with those goons, taking pot shots from the fire escape. Where had Camel gone to anyway? I hadn’t seen him in what felt like ages.

I leaned against the side of the building, deep in thought. I needed to feel that whisper in the back of my mind. The guidance from my dormant conscience about the next right steps to take.