Bob had finished the fortieth floor of his Arcane Depths, seeding it with a Summoning Affinity Crystal. That process had been remarkably simple, he'd simply placed the Affinity Crystal in the space where mana would initially flow into the conduits that would feed the floor, and as he worked his ritual, it gradually dissolved.

Now he was testing the results by slaughtering the monsters that were spawning. The monsters were nearly ten feet fall, slender, and disturbingly bipedal. They had triangular heads, no eyes, and a circular mouth with row after row of sharp teeth. Combined with the scythe-like blades on the ends of both arms, and it was pure nightmare fuel, made even more so by the fact that it summoned copies of itself.

Jake was gleefully tearing the monsters apart, although he wasn't escaping each encounter completely unscathed.

Bob was planning the next few weeks. Taking a day off had been revealing. He'd check in with Mike each morning and see if the Curators were ready. In the meantime, he'd spend half the day either working on or delving his Arcane Depths. The other half he'd be devoting to working on building a Dungeon for the Aussies. He'd build it small and shallow, room for twenty people, and only ten floors deep. They could have their first batch of people focus on becoming Curators. He'd get a message to them through the Endless, letting them know where they could find the Elemental Affinity Crystals in the Harbordeep Dungeon. That ought to help.

Once he had that Dungeon done, he'd be finishing the Dungeon in Glacier Valley, or at least training the Curators to finish it. He expected that would finish out the next few weeks. The important thing he needed to remember was to take at least one day off a week to recuperate. He'd been working such long hours that he'd lost sight of the goal and focused on the process.

His focus sharpened as the persistent effect UtahRaptor he had summoned out brought him back not only a mana crystal but also a Summoning Affinity Crystal. He'd only been killing the monsters for an hour, so he didn't think the coalescence rate was too bad, and regardless, he held proof that he could seed the Dungeon. Not that he'd doubted Trebor, but holding the proof in his hand felt nice.

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There were two people waiting for Bob at the Adventurers Guild in Glacier Valley.

"Morning Mike, Jason," Bob acknowledged them as he sat down at his table, placing his bowl of scrambled eggs on the table, before placing a larger bowl of steaming oxcipine chunks on the floor, followed by a sleepily protesting Monroe, who hadn't wanted to be pulled out of Bob's inventory. All protestation ceased as the scent of delicious meat tickled the economy-sized kitty's nose, and he eagerly padded to the bowl and settled into his feast.

"Bob," Mike nodded, "General Thompson asked me to write up a level by level list of skills for future curators, and he's halted all progression until tomorrow morning. You should have a working batch in another two days."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about yesterday," Bob played with his scrambled eggs for a moment, "I'll apologize to the Marines when they're ready to get started. I was overworked, and I didn't handle it well."

"Apology accepted," Mike nodded, "I'm guessing you took the rest of the day off?"

"I did," Bob replied, "I cleaned my house and played with Monroe and just sort of relaxed, you know?"

"I'm vaguely familiar with the idea," Mike grumbled as his tablet beeped at him. He pulled out the device, gave it a glance, and grimaced. "Can't she find someone else to bother," Mike muttered as he stood up, tucking the device away.

"Who's bothering you?" Bob asked, his egg-laden fork halfway to his mouth.

"Annisa," Mike muttered.

"Annisa? She was always nice to not only me but also the freshers I was shepherding in Harbordeep," Bob said in surprise.

"It's not that she isn't nice," Mike replied heavily, "it's just that she's..." Mike shook his head, "Nevermind, it's my hangup. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

Mike left, leaving Bob alone at the table with Jason.

"What brings you to Monroe's table this morning?" Bob asked between bites.

"I've gained the skills I lacked since our last attempt, and I'm seeking your guidance," Jason stated.

"How did you manage that?" Bob asked.

"I approached some of the Old Guard and negotiated an arrangement where several cases of Coors Light would find their way into their barracks, and I would find my way into a uniform and into the Dungeon as a supposed member of their team," Jason replied drily.

Bob opened his mouth to reply, then closed it. He took another bite of scrambled eggs. The cooks had mixed bits of Oxcipine into it, and it was really quite good. "I'd reprimand you," he said, "but I'm not in charge anymore, so it's not really my place."

"Quite," Jason nodded with a smile.

"Well, there's no time like the present," Bob waved his fork at his bowl, "after I finish my breakfast, of course."

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Bob watched as the silvery mana slowly formed into streams as the ritual guided the flows, forming a pattern across the floor. Jason was casting the ritual, and while Bob had to step in and offer a few corrections, overall, he was doing well. Even without Bob's suggestions, it would have served its purpose.

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He reached up and rubbed Monroe's chin as he watched Earth's first real curator at work. Bob was a Curator in the same way that a fast-food worker was a chef. He prepared food, but it wasn't a passion. Jason, on the other hand, was passionate about building Dungeons.

The ritual finished, and Bob moved over to offer Jason a hand up.

"How is it?" Jason asked as he looked across the floor, his own eyes tinted with the silver of his Mana Sight spell.

"Solid," Bob replied with a smile, "keep building your floors like that, and you won't have any problems."

"Well, with this Dungeon at least," Jason said, "I'll be looking for you again once we're ready for me to build a real Dungeon."

"I'll be in the tavern in Glacier Valley most mornings if you need me," Bob offered, "although I suspect I'll be awfully busy in a few days; the Marines are almost ready for Curator training."

Jason nodded slowly, a pensive look on his face. "It might be wise for me to return home sooner rather than later," Jason mused, "if I build another Dungeon, I can likely bring Britain onboard."

Bob raised his hands in surrender, "If you want to get that started, I won't get in your way," he said, "as few people as I had to reach out to in the United States, they vastly outnumber the non-existent people available to me outside of it."

"Have you considered simply appearing in front of the United Nations and summoning your UtahRaptor while fireworks and a country music rendition of the star-spangled banner blare out of the audio systems?" Jason asked.

"If I thought that would work, I might consider it," Bob replied, having grown used to the Brit's dry humor.

Jason smiled and shrugged; then, his expression turned serious. "While I know you aren't 'in the loop,' as they say, I must ask if you've heard anything about the U.S. government at least contacting their allies?"

"I think they're reaching out to the U.K., Canada, and Australia," Bob offered, "I'll ask Mike, although I'm not sure if he'll know for sure either."

"I'd appreciate it," Jason replied, "I'm very much afraid that there will be resistance to the plan to evacuate Earth, and the sooner begun, the sooner finished."

Bob couldn't disagree.

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The next morning Bob found Mike at his table again, this time accompanied by the Secretary of Defense.

"Good morning Mike, Mr. Secretary," Bob nodded as he sat down, shuffling Monroe off his Makres and in front of the bowl of Oxcipine he'd procured for the most handsome kitty in the world.

"Good morning," SecDef replied, "I have a fairly important question to ask."

"Go ahead," Bob eyed his breakfast burrito suspiciously. He wasn't sure about a green tortilla.

"How large can you make a portal, and how long can you keep it open?" SecDef asked.

"Personally, thirty-six feet, and it depends on how many mana crystals I feed into the ritual," Bob replied, "although with multiple dimensionalists working together, you could easily have it at a hundred feet in diameter."

"I need three hundred feet in diameter," SecDef said, "is that at all possible?"

"I suppose if you had enough high-level dimensionalists with cooperation, it would be," Bob shrugged, "I don't know if cooperation is part of the Endless build, but I can ask. Out of curiosity, what the hell do you need to portal over that's that large?"

"The Navy would rather not leave their aircraft carriers behind," SecDef replied grimly, "which leads to another question; have you been to the eastern shore of this continent?"

"I haven't," Bob admitted, "I started exploring from Holmstead, moving away from Greenwold, and when I found Glacier Valley, I stopped."

"We'll need a port, one large enough to hold and shelter all five hundred or so ships," SecDef sighed as he rubbed his eyes.

"You'll need to build a deep Dungeon," Bob warned, "from what I understand, monsters spawn underwater too."

"Trillions of dollars worth of assets," SecDef grunted, "we'll do what we need to do."

"Well, I'm sure there will be a way to bring them over," Bob replied.

"The Air Force isn't far behind with the Super Galaxy," SecDef sighed, "I'm not even sure where we're going to park all the aircraft."

Bob tried an experimental bite of the green burrito. It was stuffed scrambled eggs, oxcipine sausage, chunks of bell peppers, and melted cheese. He nodded. The tortilla didn't really detract from the taste, he decided.

He'd also decided that barring questions like the one the SecDef had just asked, Bob was unnecessary, logistically speaking. The United States government knew far better than he did what it needed.

"We should have our first batch of Curators ready for you tomorrow morning," Mike offered as Bob slowly demolished his breakfast.

Bob nodded and then swallowed before responding. "I'll spend half a day showing them the ropes," he said, "figure it will take two days to get them up to speed."

"We'll have another batch ready at that point," SecDef interjected.

"I'll show them as well," Bob agreed, "although, at some point, I'm sure you're going to want to have someone else taking care of that task."

"Eventually," Mike hedged, "and it isn't because we don't value your expertise."

"I know," Bob interrupted, "I'm not part of the chain of command. I'm very ok with that. I was looking for people who were better suited than I am to the task of saving Earth, and I'm happy to turn that burden over to the United States government," he grinned. "They can take the blame when something inevitably goes wrong."

"You might be better suited than you think," Mike returned his grin.

"Hey, can I ask, or I suppose will you answer, if the United States has reached out to anyone else about the upcoming System Apocalypse?" Bob looked between Mike and the SecDef for an answer.

"There is a meeting on the books," SecDef replied slowly, "I can't tell you exactly when or who is participating, but the decision was made to share this information with certain allies quickly."

Bob nodded, accepting the answer. He knew he wouldn't get anything else, and that was at least confirmation that progress was being made.

He still expected the Australians to get their government involved soon.

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"So we're agreed then, yeah?" Jessica looked around at her friends.

"Too right," Danny agreed fervently.

"Stuff that," Bruce nodded, "if I never smell another skunk again, it'll be too bloody soon."

"Right," Jessica nodded, "so, we've done pretty well, to the tune of six hundred and twenty-two crystals, which is enough to level us up to nine and comes close to paying for the room for the past three days."

"Maybe spend an extra day on the tenth floor," Derrick suggested, "gather a little surplus, crystal wise."

The rest of the group nodded their agreement as they ate. When they played D&D, Derrick was the guy who always stocked up on supplies, a trait that had kept the group alive many, many times.

"We're actually doing pretty well," she agreed, "if we spend a week on the tenth floor, we should have enough crystals to recoup the cost of the next token, pay for our stay, level up to ten, and have a cushion."

"What does the book say about the tenth floor?" Shiela asked.

Shiela had been slowly coming back from the trauma of her injuries in the natural Dungeon. She was much more cautious than she'd been before, but, Jessica reflected, they all were. The experience had been a warning bell.

She pulled herself out of her thoughts and reached into her satchel for the book. Flipping it open, she paged to the tenth floor and groaned.

"Rotting Rats," Jessica grumbled, scanning the page. "So, they come in swarms, whatever that means, and when they bite you, you start to rot."

"Is it too late to vote for the skunks?" Jake asked.