Blake almost fell asleep three times while he waited for his reward to appear. It took two hours for the nanomachines to assemble his new weapon and armor, and then he had to backtrack to the portal at the cave entrance so he could leave the scenario. The entire time, he kept Metal on guard so he would not be taken by surprise, and only dismissed the companion when he traveled back to Earth.
The new leather pants fit like a glove, and included a belt which he threaded through the sword and dagger’s sheaths. When he walked, the weapons swung freely, with the longsword just a few inches off the ground as he exited the portal.
Unfortunately, when he hopped on his bicycle, he quickly found that the tip of the sword dragged the ground. He was forced to unbind his sheath and ride home with the cumbersome weapon perched across his handlebars.
Unlike the last time he arrived back on Earth, there was no cascade of text messages and voicemails which awaited him. Instead, the ride back home was boring and cold as he faced the setting sun.
That changed when he entered the low-income apartment complex where he and his parents lived. Outside their unit was a patrol car. In the distance, he saw a uniformed police woman talking to his neighbor. Caution temporarily overrode his exhaustion.
Are they still looking for me, or is this unrelated?
Blake was legally an adult, and his assault on the bully was caught on camera.
He argued with himself for a moment. Normally, a fight between high schoolers would be considered a misdemeanor and was not a big deal. However, Trent had been sent to the emergency for the severity of his injuries. According to the conversation he had with his parents earlier, it elevated the charge to a felony, and they were looking to arrest him.
This is just what I freakin’ need. I try to save the world, and they arrest me for standing up for myself.
He erred on the side of caution and quickly changed direction to approach his apartment from the rear. He stashed his bike under a juniper bush a few feet away from his back door and then unlocked the sliding door with his key. However, when he tried to slide it open, it was stuck. After he examined the glass pane more closely, he saw that a wooden dowel had been placed in the track to prevent it from being opened.
Oh yeah. I forgot about that.
Theft was a major issue in the complex, and his parents installed the pole to prevent criminals from breaking in while they were gone. It would not prevent someone from throwing a brick through the glass door, but he supposed it was better than nothing.
Instead of breaking in himself, he stalked around to the front of the house and waited in the shrubbery until the squad car drove away. After it passed, he swiftly unlocked the front door and darted into the small two-bedroom apartment. He shrugged out of his bloody jacket, sat down his new weapons, and fell into the living room couch.
Within moments, he was fast asleep, haunted with restless dreams of crying babies.
----------------------------------------
A hand pressed against his shoulder, shaking it to wake him.
“Blake,” Came his mother’s concerned voice that seemed to float above him. “Are you okay? Wait, is that a sword?”
He grunted and then wiped his tired eyes. After a moment, his brain kicked into gear, and he asked, “Yeah. What time is it?”
“It’s eleven at night. Your father and I got home about an hour ago from work, and didn’t want to wake you. But, after we talked, we realized we needed to let you know about the police.”
“I saw them next door when I got home earlier.” he offered.
“You have to be careful when you come back here.” His father informed him. “They came by the restaurant again and asked if we’d seen you. We said no, of course, but no one would believe that. I bet they talked to the neighbors and asked if they saw you around the apartment.”
“I waited until the cop left before I snuck inside.”
“Hopefully, no one saw you,” his father said.
“Does it matter if they do? Don’t they need a warrant or something to check inside the house?”
Peter shook his head. “Not if they have probable cause.”
Blake snorted and rolled over, reluctant to sit up from the couch. “And I thought society didn’t turn tyrannical until AFTER the invasion.”
Donna frowned. “How bad does the government get?”
Blake sighed and sat up slowly. “They don’t really last long enough to get that bad. They declared martial law immediately when electricity stopped working, and tried to keep things in order. Even tried to keep people away from the portals. But a few months later, when they ran out of food, they just kind of disintegrated.” He shrugged. “No one wanted to work for a government that couldn’t keep them fed, I guess.”
“How much food are we going to have to stockpile?” His father asked.
“As much as we can. But, canned goods aren’t the problem. With the AI’s nanomachines, farmers can grow crops ten times faster than before, and in a much smaller area.”
“Are they safe to eat?”
Peter snorted. “Probably safer than the GMO crap we buy at the grocery store.”
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“I never saw anyone have an issue with the Architect’s food. But, when you’re starving to death, you don’t really care about stuff like that. But, food isn’t the biggest stockpile we need. That would be toiletries.”
“Always comes down to toilet paper.” Peter muttered.
“Oh! I’ll need plenty of pads! And toothpaste, tampons, soap, and I’m sure we’ll need lots of deodorant.”
“Are people able to make all that stuff in the future?” his father asked.
Blake shook his head.
“How long before it runs out?”
“It doesn’t. In a year, over ninety percent of humans will be dead. A year after that, another half will die.” He sighed. “By the time I died, or went back in time, or whatever, I bet there were only a hundred thousand people left alive. Most of that stuff doesn’t go bad, and they made enough for billions.”
“If it’s so common, why should we stockpile it?” His mother asked.
“Because I hope to save most of the people in Show Low and Pinetop if I can.”
“That’s over twenty-thousand people!” Donna exclaimed. “How will we feed them, let alone provide them with toilet paper?”
“You’re right, we can’t keep enough supplies to provide everyone with TP and other stuff. But, if we have enough, we can use it for a reward. We’ll provide everyone with food that needs it, of course, but TP is a luxury item. We can hold that back and only hand it out as an incentive.”
“Incentive for what?” Peter asked.
“For whatever we need done, I know people who would kill for some soap. And, we’ll need a lot of workers if we want to grow the faction quickly. We’ll have to set up an entirely new industry and economy. Build enough housing for tens of thousands of people, and then, when we get big enough, do it again in Payson, Eager, Snowflake and all the other towns scattered around here.” He gestured widely as he noted the small towns near their home.
“People have houses already. Why would we need to build more?” his mother asked, confused.
Blake shook his head. “Those houses aren’t approved by the Architect. We’ll have to tear everything not built with its assistance down and use the remains for raw materials.”
“I don’t understand,” she continued.
“Yeah, that doesn’t make sense,” Peter agreed.
Blake waved his hand through the air. “There are all kinds of requirements and other stuff. You’ll see once we get the faction formed. Don’t worry about it right now.”
“Okaaaay…” Donna trailed off.
“Were you able to cash in the gold chain?” Blake changed the subject.
She nodded. “Yes, and then I stopped by the bank and deposited it in our account.”
“I’ll set up an account and transfer the money to it tonight.” Pete informed him. “That way, we can place the bet in a few days. There’s not much time left before the Mega-Bowl.”
“Great! Once we get paid, we can buy some land, hire some people, and buy plenty of stuff to give us a head start.”
After a moment, his mother said, “It’s so strange to think that everything will be so different in a few months. Should we close down the restaurant after we get the money?”
Blake nodded. “I won’t be able to form the faction for a few months still, but there’s too much stuff to take care of for you two to spend all day at work.” After a yawn, he added, “Speaking of that, I need to get something to eat and then finish another scenario.”
“It’s the middle of the night!” Donna protested.
Blake shrugged. “I already slept for a few hours. I’m good to go again.”
“Can’t you take a bigger break?” His father asked. “If you overwork yourself, you’ll make a mistake and get hurt.”
“I don’t have time to take breaks. I don’t think you understand how many scenarios I’m going to have to complete if I want to create a faction and level myself up.”
“I wish there was some way we could help you.” Donna said.
Blake was about to inform her that there was nothing she could do when he suddenly had an idea. “Actually, there’s something you can do that’ll be a big help.”
“Whatever you need!” she readily agreed.
“Well, I’m spending too much time right now riding my bike back and forth from the airport to here to eat and sleep. And like you said before, eventually someone will see me enter the house and call the cops on me. If I had a tent and some supplies, I could set up a camp right outside the portal at the airport.”
Peter’s brows rose. “On airport property? Is that where the portal is? They’ll arrest you for trespassing.”
“It’s in the trees north of it, not actually on it. I doubt anyone will see the tent unless it’s bright orange or something anyway.”
“Well, we got rid of the tent when we moved, we didn’t have space for it anymore.” Peter scratched his chin. “I suppose we could buy another tomorrow.”
“Tonight.” Blake corrected.
“It’s almost midnight,” his father reminded him.
“Isn’t Dall-mart open twenty-four-seven?” Blake asked, rhetorically.
“Blake, if you move out of the house tonight, we’ll never see you again!” His mother protested.
“Actually…” Blake smiled. “If you two join the Collective, we can chat anytime you want. Unlike cell phones, you get signal everywhere, even on the goblin planet.”
“Uh, I thought you didn’t want us to fight.” his father said, confused.
“You don’t have to fight to join. I can share my nano right now. Here, hold out your hand.”
Blake extended his own hand and waited. His parents froze in shock and eyed him warily.
He laughed. “It doesn’t hurt. You won’t know I even did anything until a few minutes later when you get a message.”
Donna took a deep breath and glanced at her husband. After he nodded, she reached out her own hand and clasped her son’s.
I want to invite her into the Collective.
Are you sure? This will transfer one million nano to the target.
Yes.
After he accepted the prompt, nothing notable changed. He checked his status, and saw that he now held only six million nano rather than the seven he had before. Once he realized that nano had already been transferred, he let go of his mother’s hand and reached out for his father’s. He repeated the process and then waited.
His parents shuffled from side to side nervously and asked if he was sure it worked. He assured them it would just take a few minutes. Peter insisted on making Blake a pot of coffee while they waited, and busied himself in the kitchen.
Moments later, his mother gasped and stared off into the distance. Shortly after, his father jerked in surprise and joined her. He waved his hands back and forth before his face, as if trying to swipe words only he could see away.
Blake answered their numerous questions as they navigated through the menus. After a few minutes of show and tell, he gratefully helped himself to the fresh coffee.
Once caffeine began to run through his veins, he became far more chipper. He added them both to his friends list and informed them of how to add him to their own. For the next half hour, he explained how the interface worked and how to contact him. After they learned how to navigate through the menus and adjust them on the fly, he asked, “Can one of you drive me to Dall-mart now?”