“About that…”

“Yes?” Merkovah asked.

“I found Vig.”

There was a long pause on the line.

“Tell me everything.”

Truth did so, including how frustrating he found not making contact. Merkovah sounded relieved at the end of it.

“You handled that exactly right. Exactly right. In theory, it might have been better not following him, but this adds another layer of plausibility to the illusion of a vast nationalist uprising.”

“Great, super.”

Merkovah sighed. “Sorry. That was insensitive of me. I was just concerned. You are almost painfully pragmatic, but I know how much you love your siblings.”

“The messed up thing is, I can’t even tell him to go do something safer. Right now, short of building a doomsday bunker or something, what is he supposed to do that’s “safer” or a better use of his time?”

“He is doing meaningful work, or at least work that is meaningful for him. Nothing wrong with that.” Merkovah sounded soothing.

Truth was going to point out that this “meaningful work” consisted of attacking public buildings, but stopped himself. Felt too hypocritical even for an overprotective big brother.

“I have been wondering about something, though. What do we want the world to look like at the end of all this?” Truth asked instead.

“Pardon?”

“We kill Starbrite, wipe out the C-Suite, the System Astrologica gets to enjoy the Masticating Juicer enchantment before its dissolution, and we save the girl. Then what? Some of us get off planet and try life in a new world, but for this world, or whatever place we wind up in, what do we want that to look like?”

“A difficult question, given the inevitable collapse.”

“I’ve been thinking about this a lot. Imagine you were starting from scratch, and the rules were up to you. What does that look like?”

“I suppose the Siphios of my childhood. With a few notable changes. That’s old age and nostalgia for you.” Merkovah said. There was a touch of whimsy in his voice.

“Your best plan is an absolute monarchy which is also a religion, overseeing aristocrats and the vast majority of people are peasants? That is the best the world can be?”

The communication altar was silent for a moment. “I think I see where you are going with this. If we don’t have cultivation levels, and all the societies and governments collapse, all that will be left are a few powerhouses and gangs of the powerless. In less than… perhaps a hundred years, probably much less, there won’t even be the powerhouses. So without the model of the hierarchy of cultivation, what does government look like?”

“Or whatever, yeah. Someone pointed out to me yesterday that money is just bookkeeping, records of someone’s time and work. You get food and shelter in exchange for your time and work. Don’t work, don’t eat. I can’t imagine any other way of doing things but we all know how bad my education was. Can that really be the only way?”

Merkovah chuckled painfully. “My education was, and is, excellent. I really can’t think of any other way, but in the vastness of the universe, surely other ways must exist. On this world, God ordained the creation of Temple and Throne. Perhaps there could be some system where God ordained the provision of food and shelter to all.”

“But he didn’t.”

“Debatably he did. You could certainly interpret various passages of scriptures and the testimony of some prophets that way.”

“But he didn’t. If he did, it wouldn’t be a question of interpretation.”

Merkovah laughed long and hard at that. “Oh no, that is where you are wrong. EVERYTHING is a question of interpretation. Especially the things that aren’t up for interpretation. Did you know the prohibition on eating freshwater fish may actually be extended to snakes?”

Truth shook his head violently. “Because they both have scales?”

“And no legs, and are not salt water creatures, yes.”

“But… there are… snakes aren’t even related to fish, right?”

“Only biologically. Religiously? That is the subject of serious debate right now.”

Truth grasped for an answer to that, and shifted tack. “What are we going to do about the enrollment? And the change over to credits?”

“Not much we can do. We will be disrupting as many enrollment centers as we can. We have replicated your destructive black ball explosion experience, but we still haven’t figured out why it happens. Best guess currently is that the talisman plates, when stacked and organized in their crates, actually exist in a sort of crude array. Break that array and bad things happen. If that is the case, it’s a theory of design we haven’t encountered before.”

“Nasty. Plus side, should be relatively easy to disrupt.”

“Well. Easy-ish. They’ve beefed up security, started stationing local cops, that kind of thing.”

“Any thoughts on what to do about the thinning magic?” Truth asked.

“Long term? No. Short term? We are developing small array disks that will attract and concentrate cosmic rays in a small area. It will be enough to let you cultivate for a few months. I know how much energy you burn through. It’s going to be heading your way soon.”

Truth nodded, though nobody could see him do it. “Thanks, though that does lead me to a… you know… unpleasant question. What happens when everyone’s apertures collapse?”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

“Most of the people above Level Three will die agonizing deaths. The higher the level, the more magic they have stored up, but the more dramatic the collapse of their apertures when they run out. There will be a period where they can sustain themselves with bigger and bigger cosmic ray concentrating arrays, perhaps even moving to sacrifice, but sooner or later, it won’t be enough. They will die. Level Three will be crippled and on the point of death. Suicide would probably be the smarter option for them. Level Two and One will live in immense pain, but will be functional. Mostly functional.”

Truth silently laughed. “It will be a world of children. Anyone who hasn’t awakened yet, and those ancient families and powers practicing body cultivation arts to let them hang on to their magic indefinitely.”

“Not indefinitely, sooner or later they won’t be able to replace the cosmic energy they spend,” Merkovah cautioned.

“No, that’s not right. Sacrifice, remember? So long as there is ANY way to generate cosmic energy, they will use it. No matter how many have to die.”

Merkovah sighed. Truth got the impression that he was sighing less because of what Truth said and more because he wished Truth hadn’t figured it out.

“It’s possible. Unlikely to be practical, though.”

Less practical than just dying? Truth didn’t ask any more about that. The system was already hard at work on modifying the Meditations to give him the same protection.

“So what’s the plan for Harban? I can’t imagine you want me wandering around just… screwing with Starbrite.”

“Mmm. That would be counter-productive, though continuing to foster nationalist sentiment and encouraging the ambitions of the mighty would be useful.”

Truth had to parse out some words there “Making the poors mad at Starbrite and making the rich think they can replace Starbrite would be useful.”

“Yes.” Merkovah’s eye roll was visible from the other side of the planet.

“Alright, easy enough. What else?”

“Since you have done a fairly spectacular job drawing away Starbrite and Jeon security forces both to the north and south, now is a good time to start breaking into offices and secured facilities. Time to start pressing in on the System.”

“Specific instructions to follow?”

“Yes. For now, make your way out of Conjin and head back to Harban. As for the lack of credits… you will have to do a lot more sneaking around. I assume you have been robbing banks and things as you go.”

“Not as much as I thought I would be, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I just sleep where I want. What are they going to do about it?”

Merkovah thought about that one a second and started laughing again. “Same applies to food and supplies, I suppose.”

“I only pay for things when I feel like it.” Truth agreed. “Though it’s going to make eating out at vendors a lot harder.”

“Huh. How many street vendors are actually citizens?”

That stumped Truth. He had no idea. “I guess we will find out soon.”

Truth dragged his mind back to Borges. “Teacher… what exactly was Borges trying to do? I kind of get it, I think, but… how? Or what? I don’t even know the right words at this point.”

“I can’t know for certain, but at a guess? You remember the research station, where we found that higher dimensional droplet of water?”

“Yes. You said the place was distorted because it was in the shadow of some higher dimensional structure.”

“That’s the current best theory. I think Borges was trying for something similar. Based on what you said, I think he wanted to cover the world in those floating flowers and use them, somehow, to trigger a shift in reality around them. Not just rewriting the world that is, but rewriting what was, too. Projecting an artificial world and making it real on the structure of the “old” real world.”

Truth tried to imagine it. He remembered what the bodyguard had said- something about being able to make more books. Were they importing books from this created world of theirs? Trying to seed reality with it, the way he could prime people to accept his “reality” when he used Incisive?

“The sheer scope of it…” Truth murmured.

“As I said. I dearly, dearly wish I could have met him. Spoken with him. However necessary his death was-”

“Say useful instead,” Truth murmured. “I can’t believe it was strictly necessary.”

Merkovah sighed at that. “Defining necessity at the end of days. Anything else I should know?”

“Yes. I am making progress on your assignment. At the very least, I think I’ve found a new way to study the question.”

“Pardon?”

“What is a human? Right now, I have been a slumrat, a mercenary, an armed robber, burglar, murderer, terrorist, bodyguard, boyfriend, rich prick and I am currently investigating being a prince. So far, the prince is the one that has resonated the most strongly, recently.”

Merkovah sounded interested. “I assume you are using Incisive for this?”

“Yes, constantly.”

“Mmm. I will think about that some. When you say it has resonated the most strongly with you-”

“I find myself thinking like a prince. I am not entirely sure what a prince is or does, but this is Jeon. We are all working off some scry drama notion of princely behavior.”

“I won’t spoil the fun by telling you what actual princes are like. Having tutored dozens.” Merkovah’s voice was desert dry. “You have probably picked up on the raw power dynamics, but I bet you are missing a subtle piece of the mindset.”

“Oh?”

“All this is “your” stuff. All the people around you exist to enrich you and protect your stuff. In a feudal mindset, the people in your domain are under your protection, true, in the same sense that you would guard your cattle. It is, purely and entirely, exploitation. Land, cattle, people, buildings, industries, they are all part of your personal income, and despite the fact you, or your family, likely acquired them through violence, they are now yours by God-given right.”

Truth gave the altar a hard look. “Don’t you work directly for the King?”

“Oh yes. I wouldn’t say we are close, but I do have his full trust.”

“A trust you clearly are worthy of.”

“I am. I have never ceased my diligent service to Throne and Temple for centuries. None of this is considered a controversial opinion in Siphios- it’s why the Temple exists as a separate, but co-equal institution. It is only by the ethics imposed by the Temple that the secular powers are restrained. Compelled to do what they would otherwise not- care for the public as their own people.”

Truth stared at the altar. “A long conversation, I suspect.”

“You have no idea. Right, that should wrap things up.”

“No, two more items. I need the address of a company. Actually, someone will need to do a little research to find the name of the parent company of the company I am looking for. An outfit called MegaShroom.”

“May I ask why?”

“You want the experts on exploitation and mental manipulation? They are some of the best in the entire world. I want to see if I can use them. In the alternative, I want to exterminate the top of their pointy pyramid.”

“Ah. Well. I’ll look into it. If it doesn't interfere with the plan, I can include it in your next dead drop. The next thing?”

“How is Etenesh doing?”

“She is doing well. She had a small relapse a while back, but has been showing steady improvement. Although, speaking as a student of theology here, her doctrine is completely incoherent and needs a lot of work.”

“She’s smart. I’m sure she will make a lovely religion for me. Ah, relapse- she attacked someone?”

“A small disagreement escalated. There was some physical contact. Nobody died. No one was permanently injured. Etenesh was unharmed. Impulse control problem, I expect.”

Truth was vividly remembering his dream of Etenesh- the only dream he could remember having. It could have been an impulse control problem. Or someone could have stolen her apple.