Thursday, April 18th, 2069
“Smegma? Nothing happened,” I said, after waiting what felt like an entire minute.
“Of course nothing happened, you moron, I haven’t done anything. It’s asking me to confirm my choice, and I’m reading through the terms of service.”
“Oh, just click accept, those never get enforced,” Dave said, his nonchalance at his admittance a bit worrisome. If Smegma wasn’t in my peripheral vision I wouldn’t have noticed his incredulous stare that I hoped matched my own. Dave looked at me and then Smegma, “What? They don’t!”
“No, you likely just haven’t broken one yet…” I said as if speaking to a child.
Smegma looked at me and a lightbulb seemed to go off behind his eyes. “Who cares about the ‘terms of service’ you humans have husking created? This is the System! It has infinite resources and punishes all transgressions. Ever heard the saying dick around and find out?”
“No, that term doesn’t husking exist,” Dave said sourly.
“Well, it did on Crendalar. You know what it got changed to?”
“Smegma, you do realize I just learned about other planets today, right?” Dave answered.
“It was rhetorical asshat! The saying changed after the System arrived and it became, dick around and lose the dick!”
I grabbed my member unconsciously from the tone and pointedness that Smegma used. When I looked back to Dave, he was doing the same. “Exactly, stupid child. If you ever get terms of service from the System, read them carefully…”
“Gotcha,” Dave said, risking his precious man parts to un-cup them and fire a finger gun in confirmation at the Demon. We both sat in silence waiting for Smegma to finish.
“Nothing too worrisome—basically just says you can’t have two Skills that give you a Class. The only problematic line says that once a Class is selected it can’t be changed until the allotted time period and that if a new Class is selected before that time, you will lose all Skills and ranks of any Skills associated with the Class.”
“Why is that worrisome?” Dave asked before I could.
“Well, it doesn’t really say what that time period is. Still, it’s more about losing the Skills. It means that the first Class you choose might be one you can’t change out of.”
“But these Classes still come with Skills!” Dave said.
“Can’t or shouldn’t?” I said as a follow up even as Smegma talked over us both.
“It does seem like a very powerful sub-Skill, and that’s what worries me. There is no way to know. Like if Brodie chooses a Class in Mining, and because of the Skill, he is able to create an amazing life for himself—then he may never change Class because he grows comfortable and doesn’t want to lose the Skills he’s gained and grown.”
“That’s still a good thing, you goober!” I exclaimed in exasperation. “Now accept and move on.”
“Oh, husk,” Smegma said. “It takes two sub-Skill slots.”
“Really?” Dave asked, seeming to be torn between thinking Smegma was joking or not.
“Why would I make that up?”
“Cause you’re a goober!” I enunciated the word for the second time.
“Do you even know what that is? Cause I have no idea,” Smegma said.
“Me either, man,” Dave intoned with a look of concern. “You really should have just called him a greed-pig or something, man. You trying to watch your language or something?”
“My parents are home, so yes,” I said.
“Well, you’ve probably failed multiple times already. Well…” Dave retorted, then tried to think back on our conversation. “Maybe not?”
“Who gives a shit?” Smegma said. “They’re just sounds you’re making with your mouth…”
“His mom gets offended…” Dave explained.
“Okay, but isn’t being offended by something a choice?” Smegma asked, sounding seriously confused by the explanation.
“Yeah, and she chooses to be offended by bad language,” I answered. “And we kind of live in her house…”
“So, you’d get kicked out for making noises a family member finds distasteful?” Smegma asked and began tapping on his teeth in thought. “We Demons killed our siblings and our parents praised us.”
“How does that even remotely compare to—? You know what? Nevermind. Can we just move on?” I asked, not wanting to get into a discussion about the differences between Crendalar and Earth.
“So, I’m still choosing it?” Smegma said, snapping out of his tangent.
“It’s only sounding more powerful to me,” Dave said, chiming in with his two mana shards.
“Agreed,” I said.
Smegma shrugged and then popped out of the air. There was a literal noise that accompanied his disappearance.
“Very funny Smegma. Where is he?” Dave said.
“Actually he vanishes when stuff happens with the Skill. This is probably not a joke, since I also can’t see him” I answered.
Smegma flew through the floor back into the space he’d previously occupied, flipping Dave and I the double birds before vanishing again.
“Is he actually gone this time?” Dave asked.
I held my breath and shrugged–unsure how I’d missed him phasing through the floor. No response to Dave’s question came, mentally or otherwise.
A way to check occurred to me and I dove into my Mental Universe. There I found movement around the Demonic Vault Skill. A planet was slowly growing around the sun that was the Vault Skill. It appeared to be golden in color, and I could see a ring of some kind forming around it as well. Whether the golden ring of debris was feeding the planet's growth or being created as well, was tough to tell
“He’s definitely gone this time,” I answered.
“Any idea how long it will take for him to come back?” Dave asked and I re-entered my Mental Universe.
I took my time assessing the growing golden planet. At the speed it was going, it would take weeks to get to the size of the Overflow planet. Maybe only a few days to get to the Mining Moon?
“Ahhhh,” I said while still observing. “It looks like it’ll be a while.”
“What’s ‘a while’?” Dave asked.
“Enough time to sleep on it?” I answered.
“Oh shit, is it already midnight! You mind if I crash here? I kind of don’t want to be seen on campus right now anyway…” For the first time since earlier in Ms. Stovall’s office I heard the worry in Dave’s voice over the day’s events.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.
“Honestly, no. I know I’m overreacting, but every time I think about going back to that class and seeing the students' faces again—” Dave shivered. I swallowed a lump in my throat—somewhat knowing a muted version of that. It was a worry I had after the assault on campus—right up until I 'inherited’ Mental Fortitude.
“Even if it isn’t me you should talk to someone about it?”
“Like you and your shrink?” Dave began and then shook himself before holding up both hands. “That came out wrong. I’m actually curious if it’s helping. I didn’t mean to be derisive. I’m just husking pissed this shit happened to me.”
I waved away the apology that his words contained but didn’t outright say. “Honestly, I think my Mental Fortitude is helping more, but yeah—it has been kind of nice talking to her about it. I have another session in a few days. I could ask her if she’d see you.”
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“I don’t have the money for that, Brodie, and you know I don’t want to ask my parents for more money.”
Dave’s parents had kind of been an off-limits topic since I’d met him in first year. So, I let that drop and suggested, “Maybe you could sue the police department for unlawful actions or something?”
Dave tilted his head back and forth a few times, waffling on that thought. Then his neck-jerked back up and he stared at me. “Do you think maybe I could become a Specialist Miner as well?”
“Umm, honestly, it’s kind of as easy as handing you one of the Shop’s Miner’s Pickaxes and making sure you balance out smashing Mana Crystals to keep it repaired, but are you sure you’d want to? Would your parents be okay with it?”
“Not forever, nah, but maybe for a semester like you. Plus, if I drop out now I could still get a full refund for classes…” Dave answered. He wasn’t looking at me and seemed to refuse to meet my eyes which told me that he wasn’t sure of his decision. It was also why I started when he jerked his head up to look me straight in the face for a second time. “You haven’t said it outright to your parents, or me, but you’re stealing from the job site to buy the Picks aren’t you?”
My jaw clenched so fast and hard that I heard my teeth click closed. Dave chuckled and continued, “Thought so. Your dad might suspect something too, but doesn’t want to say it. Anyway, maybe I can help?”
At my twisted mouth, he hurried to say. “If it helps you buy Skills faster, it may get me a Skill faster too, if you can transfer them like we’re hoping…”
“Okay, but I can’t guarantee that you’ll be hired. It isn’t like it’s my company.”
“I mean, with what you are doing for Portal’s cubed or whatever, it kind of should be.”
I laughed even as my logical brain pointed to the fact in Dave’s joke. I’d had that thought myself, numerous times. Sure, there were some complications here and there, but why couldn’t I start my own Mining Company?
Deciding a nod was a sufficient answer, I stood up and pulled out a foam mattress cover from my closet. It was only for a twin, but we’d kept it after I got a new bed so someone could take the floor without being too uncomfortable.
“Bro. That’s so sweet of you to take the floor for your esteemed guest. I’m touched.” He wiped a fake tear from the corner of his eye.
“Get husked, Dave!” I answered, and we laughed softly as we went through a familiar routine where we both got ready for bed. The fact that Dave had a toothbrush here in a drawer should explain how often we’d done this last semester.
“I’m starting to feel like your girlfriend man,” Dave said as he pulled out some pajamas that were also left from a previous sleepover. “You really should have had a pretty lady over by now—you know with the way you look.”
“Yeah, 'cause that will go over well. Hey let me introduce you to my parents—now let’s go upstairs. It’s why I kept pestering you to borrow your room…”
“No hanky-panky on my bed, bud.”
“Oh, so you finally are admitting you’re still a virgin.”
“First,” Dave said with a raised finger. “I never claimed to not be a virgin. But second, it’s none of your husking business!”
The night continued like that until we were both laying down. I couldn’t speak for Dave, but I was asleep almost instantly. It had been a rather long day.
* * *
Friday, April 19th, 2069
“You’re fired,” Jagger said, pointing at me as soon as I stepped out of our car. It was so sudden and abrupt that I looked behind me, just to be sure he hadn’t meant someone else. Dave stared at me with wide eyes.
Spinning back in a hurry, I asked, “What? Why?”
Even as my dad shouted, “What the husk do you mean Jagger?”
“He’s fired, Gary! That’s what I mean. He’s the reason they confiscated our goods. And someone at the WPD said if I kept him around it would just keep happening!”
Willa, who had gone red in the face, slammed her Pickaxe into the parking lot. “You mean the ‘goods’ that were only available because he killed that Golem and saved the lives of your workers? Those goods? If you even think about pulling a stunt like this, we’ll get the union involved.”
“First, you’ll be paying for repairs of this asphalt. Second, he is still in his probationary period, so getting the Union involved won’t change the fact that he’s fired. Done. Finito. Kaput. Go be someone else’s problem, kid. Let your father and angry aunty make money because you’re just costing me.”
My father’s face looked like he had just eaten something sour but he still placed a restraining hand on Willa’s shoulder. It didn’t look like he was forced to pull her back, which was at least somewhat of a blessing. However, his next words made me blink and replay them.
“Then we all quit.” In the mental replay of that moment, I realized that he had been speaking on behalf of the Specialists and not the whole crew. However, that seemed like one and the same thing, based on how Jagger started stuttering.
“You can’t do that,” Jagger eventually got out, even as his face morphed to resemble something reptilian. “You can’t afford to live without this job, especially if your wife loses hers too.”
The creak of clenched fists on leather, Pickaxe handles and straight popping knuckles was audible in the silence—as everyone who had been in earshot reacted to that threat. My father’s eyes grew so hard I stepped back from beside him. I had never seen him like this.
It was a mood beyond anger. Not hot, but deadly cold. If that stare had been directed at me, I believed in that moment I would have frozen solid. Jagger noticed the temperature change too and tried to match my father’s look but failed. Probably because my father growled, “Watch me, you piece of shit.”
Or perhaps it was because Uncle Jarred and Willa simultaneously said, “I’m done with this bullshit!”
And then again maybe it was the look of the milling crowd. ‘Shocked’ was a mild descriptor of some of the faces. Aghast, maybe?
I stared around and swallowed to wet my throat, even as I rushed to my father’s side. “Dad, you can’t—”
“I can. I will not let anyone threaten my family. Let’s go, guys.”
Willa, Jarred and my dad spun in sync—like it was a practiced action. That of course left me and Dave staring at Jagger. Thankfully, his glare was on my father’s back, which gave us time to spin and take a few jogging steps to catch the retreating adults.
“You’ll regret this, Gary! No one is going to hire you in this town, and you can’t afford to live anywhere better.” There was a pause before Jagger yelled after us again, “Even if you find a job, I’ll outbid the company on every contract they try for!”
My father literally shook because he was clenching his fists around his Pickaxe so tightly. I also noticed two hands on his back—one from Jarred and the other from Willa’s to stop him from turning back.
The exit was a bit anticlimactic because we had been literally a step or two from the car when Jagger had ‘ambushed’ me.
“Meet at Miner’s Incorporated?” Willa suggested when she realized that we were already at the Ford Escort. Everyone nodded, and the group split up. Dave, myself, and my father jumped into the Ford and the exit was made even more sad, when the car didn’t start on the first or second try.
Thankfully the third time was the actual charm—and it gave my dad time enough to calm down. I wasn’t sure what would happen if he slammed the accelerator. My guess was that the engine might fall out, and with how tense I still felt, I didn’t really want to find out just how embarrassing that would be.
However, I truly didn’t know what embarrassed meant, until a few hours later.
* * *
“That slimy see yoU Next Tuesday!” Willa hissed. Everyone at the table nodded their heads, clearly knowing who she was talking about.
“It makes total husking sense,” my dad said. “You two should go get your jobs back. I can’t have both your families suffering because of my outburst.”
“Your outburst?” Jarred said. “I wouldn’t work for that snake if he doubled my wage. No, even if he tripled it.”
I looked to Dave, who was somewhat shrunken in on himself again. As the newest Specialist, he hadn’t offered anything to any discussions all day. For that matter, neither had I. With that realization, I took a stuttering breath to convey a similar sentiment to my father—but a hand atop mine where it rested on the old stained oak table drew me up short.
Willa squeezed my hand hard enough to make me jump.
“Hey, what the hell?”
“No, Brodie. We aren’t going to get our jobs back. Plus, your mom is on her way here. We’ll all move to a new city together if we husking have to. If that asshole thinks he owns us, it's better for us all to get out, right guys?” Willa ended by looking at the other three at the table.
Everyone but Dave nodded. He still clearly had the option to return to school on Monday and I wouldn’t blame him. It seemed like getting involved with me right now meant throwing your life into a blender.
“Why don’t you all start your own company?” Dave asked, so quietly that I barely heard him. Silence broken by the bartender cleaning glasses followed his whisper, and I realized everyone in the pub had heard him. Not that there were many people here.
“It isn’t possible?” Willa said. “Right, Gary?”
My dad nodded sadly. “We don’t have the capital for it. Willa and I considered it a long time ago—but we needed at least half a million.”
“Not to mention if the police are seizing assets, they’ll likely block a corporation bid,” Jarred added.
“Can we get Ms. Stovall to intercede on something like that?” I asked.
“Maybe?” My dad said, “But that doesn’t solve the problem of the capital.”
“Well, between the three of us aren’t we owed six hundred thousand?” I countered. My dad blinked and looked at Willa. She was open mouthed and staring at me. I quickly added, “It’s your money, Willa. I’m just saying—we could have the capital.”
“I mean,” Willa stammered. “I kind of need that money, but if we could cut an asshat like Jagger out, then surely we’d all be making more, right?” She said the last, looking at Jarred and my dad.
“That’s only if Jagger pays you the bonuses,” Jarred said softly. The table went silent as everyone’s head fell. Then he looked to Willa. “Plus even if you manage to start a company it doesn’t mean you’ll be making more money,” he explained before further dampening the mood. “Not to mention, we won’t have connections to large Guilds either. So, there would be a ton more danger and lower percentages. You’d need a building too, right? We have no idea what the overhead on a company like Portals, Portal’s, Portalz is…”
“Actually, we do,” my mom said as she strode from the closing door toward us. She was carrying a dark brown box, which indicated she had emptied her desk. However, when she slammed it down on the table and pulled out a folder from the top I realized what it must contain. “I’ve been managing their books, and inputting their contracts for years. I’d say I’ve got a pretty good idea of how to run the backend, as well as a rather extensive client list.”
“How much did you hear?” My dad asked, pointing at the doorway.
“Just Jarred’s thoughts, but I had the same thought after you called to warn me. I took copies of all my draft work since everything else is the intellectual property of P-three. I realized halfway here that we wouldn’t have the money to hire lawyers to create contracts—or even the ability to secure a loan either, but I assume you all thought of a way to at least scrounge up the funds?”
“Not really,” I admitted. “We have a thought—you know the bonuses that we are owed…”
My mom smiled at me appreciatively. “With some work, we might be able to get a loan with that as collateral. Right?”
“What’s to say that Jagger will still pay us those bonuses?” Willa asked, quietly, repeating Jarred’s earlier thought.
The whole table in unison sighed heavily. My mom said the obvious, “He has to, though. It’s in the contracts you all signed.”
“That doesn’t mean he’ll make it easy, though.” My dad answered.
“Husk!” My mom swore.
I gasped. Dave gasped. Everyone else smiled at the two of us.
My mom never swore!