Author: Joseph Phelps (fantasy Writer); Damien Hanson
Date: 2023-12-15 05:00:00+00:00
Description: "Arizona Trembles As Goliaths Collide.... A leader dead. A complicated relationship lost. And a conglomerate angered... After unwittingly becoming the CEO of the growing Silken Sands Affiliate, Tyson finds himself in a increasingly dangerous Arizonan desert, the protector of a growing community of Nu-Earth humans faced with the very real possibility of total corporate annihilation. Dearth wants their land and they will not take no for an answer. But behind Tyson stand a growing band of capable administrators and heroes, and a community of people who believe him. He is their leader. And they tr
Publisher: publisher not given

BuyMort: Rise of the Window Puncher

A BuyMort Novel

Joseph Phelps

Damien Hanson

A Sconnie Books Production

Copyright © 2023 Joseph Phelps, Damien Hanson

All rights reserved.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.

For more information, address: damien@damienhansonbooks.com

FIRST EDITION

All rights reserved.

ISBN:

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

We want to thank every arbitrary fee, every overcharge, every fine print item, advertising algorithm, and predatory firm in existence for the production of this story.

We couldn’t have done it without you!

I want to dedicate this book to all of our fans at Royal Road and ScribbleHub. Without you, this story would not be what it is today.

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Epilogue – An Arizona Warlord Arises

AUTHORS’ NOTE

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Prologue

I left everything as it was and just walked outside. It was important in that moment to be away from that house, that room, and that crumpled body. It hurt to look at him, hurt to know that I’d taken him out.

Even if it had been the right thing to do.

Standing in the backyard, I tried to take stock before I summoned BuyMort to help clean up after both myself, and the dream storm.

The small pool robot seemed like it might be useful, and the water in the pool was low enough for me to retrieve it before I turned to leave.

I held the dripping thing under my arm and shook my head, walking back onto my dead boss's driveway. His Tesla still sat there. My Tesla now, according to BuyMort.

Ownership is a funny concept.

I sighed and turned away. “BuyMort, I’d like to sell everything in this lot except the basement hatch, the bicycles, and the car.” Then I glanced at the heap of smoking clay on the other side of the wall and pointed to it. “Along with that golem, and any rubble outside the walls too.”

The drone that had delivered Mr. Sada’s final gift to me turned around in the sky and began its journey back. I walked away as it began zapping out rubble, and the dead body I had left in the kitchen.

In the end, Mr. Sada himself earned the affiliate just over four thousand morties. His former mansion, once the rest of it was warped out from the nearby area, got us another three hundred thousand. The materials were scrapped, but someone would still build something with them. BuyMort bought the clay clone of Mr. Sada’s dead wife back for a neat forty-eight thousand morties, which helped a little.

We had even sold a few spider webs, from inside the house and shed. That reminded me to check in on Drusk when I got a few moments.

At least the fight had been sort of profitable. Nobody needed Mr. Sada’s house anymore, the space had been opened up to build something else on, and the affiliate had refilled its operational fund a little at the same time.

I looked through the information while I walked back to my house.

The action in the campground wasn’t quite finished, but I needed to be away from it all. I needed to be alone.

So of course as I walked up my driveway, I saw Molls and Therrize sitting in Cube’s room with the double doors open, clearly waiting for me.

Therrize was smiling openly, wrapped in Molls’ heated blanket. Molls’ was seated next to her, her coils resting in a wide-mouthed wicker chair. My blood ran cold as I saw the look on her face. She was smiling at me too, softly. Gentle, even when humiliating me.

I very nearly left my helmet on but thought about it as I approached. This was going to be rough, and the helmet was never the way to go with Molls. All it did was hurt her and make it more obvious to me that I was hiding from her.

No point doing that anymore. I removed the helmet and tucked it under one arm, as I stopped just outside the open doors and the snake women in egg-shaped wicker chairs.

Therrize stood, if the movement could be called that, and handed Molls the blanket with a quiet word of thanks. I glanced over my shoulder as a pod zipped up. The Nah’gh woman smiled warmly at Molls, grasped her hand briefly, and turned to point to an area near me, outside.

The pod obediently zipped over and opened its rainbow beam for her, and Therrize slithered up to me, a similarly gentle smile on her features. She reached out a hand and gently stroked my cheek.

“I understand now, sweety. So does she.” The woman leaned in and whispered, “Open minds lead to full hearts.” She winked one of her giant eyes at me and grinned. “And full beds.”

I smiled back, stiffly. “Thank you, I think.”

Therrize chuckled, shook her head, and slithered into the rainbow beam. Her usual fee had deducted itself from my account upon arrival, and a reminder to rate her service popped up when I glanced to check on it.

I hurriedly hit five stars and swiped it shut.

When I turned to face Molls, she was busy covering herself with the blanket. She was already wearing her heated robes, but I saw that she was more invested in covering her tail, which had become a vibrant shade of pink while Therrize and I spoke.

I flushed red, looking away.

“I, ah . . .” Molls blinked rapidly, her huge eyes flitting around the room. “I thought I would know what to say. I’m sorry.”

“I assume Cube was shouting?” I asked.

She looked up and met my gaze for an instant, smiling. “He was, yes. I’m sorry Tyson, I simply heard the commotion, and when I checked out my window I saw a Nah’gh and felt compelled to go and speak with her.”

Molls stopped speaking and swallowed hard. “I apologize for intruding.”

I flopped into the chair Therrize had recently abandoned. It was still warm and smelled good. “I honestly don’t care, Molls,” I sighed.

When she looked at me, eyes wide in confusion or possibly alarm, I waved a hand and continued. “Unintentional intrusion seems to be our dynamic.”

She giggled, her scales flushing pink again as a hand rose to her lips to cover her amusement. “I suppose you’re correct.”

“You were bound to find out,” I muttered. My eyes stuck to the mud-crete floor. I couldn’t focus on Molls, or the fact that she knew I had been dreaming about her, in intimate ways. It just didn’t matter anymore.

That was unimportant entirely compared to the thought that kept racing through my head. Finally, I vocalized it.

“I killed Mr. Sada,” I choked. The words came out ragged. There were tears, but something stopped them. Just as they started to burn my eyes, something in my chest twisted, and the feeling receded, replaced by crushing pressure.

Molls went yellow and stared at me. I could see the color change out of my peripheral vision.

“We’re saying the dream storm killed him, but it was me,” I said. The words just tumbled out.

The pink started flowing back into Molls’ scales. Instead of mixing with the already present, it seemed to push the pigmentation away, altering each scale on her body individually. “In certain, extreme situations . . . killing is actually in service to life and . . . and the exchange of value among equals.” her voice trailed off near the end. I could tell the words didn’t help or comfort her anymore.

She tasted the air and tucked further into her blanket. “I’m not your priest anymore, I’m sorry Tyson. I don’t know if I’m a priest at all.”

I looked up at her, the alarm failing to register. Just one more existential threat to doom us all.

“I am truly sorry. I sent in my rebuttal, with evidence. The priests’ council convened and suspended my robes pending investigation. All church association with Silken Sands will be revoked as soon as the complaint can be put through to the primary affiliate body.” She shrugged as she finished, blinking rapidly.

“They didn’t have to do it this way, and I tried to make it clear that a suspension would have devastating consequences. But it is within the council’s power to suspend your affiliate’s association, and I was informed in very clear language that they do not answer to me.” A large tear formed in one eye and she leaned forward to allow it to splash to the ground.

I grabbed my affiliate page out of thin air and did a quick sweep for the church tag in our associates. It was still present, and I sighed in relief.

“How long does that usually take?” I asked.

Molls shook her head. “No more than a day or two. Longer during busy times, like a new world’s first week.”

She went blank after she spoke, and I stared at her for a moment before whispering, “Not what you were expecting, I know.” I leaned back in the chair. It was really quite comfortable, with a padded cushion woven directly into the thin, but strong lacquered reeds the chair was constructed of.

“Are you heading home, then?” I asked, suddenly. The thought that she might leave had occurred to me, and I was surprised at how fearful the concept made me. Like I was about to lose something. Something important.

She grimaced. “My mother has sent a ship, yes, and insists on my return. I don’t intend to board it, though. I’m making a home here, and I want to stay.” The tall, pale Nah’gh woman looked at me and flushed deeper pink. “I want to stay near you.”

As soon as she said it, she huddled into her blankets and looked away, scales filled with vibrant pink color.

I smiled at her. “There’s something there, isn’t there?”

Molls turned carefully and faced me again, her eyes lidded. When she raised them to my face, she smiled again, faintly. “I have the same dreams,” she whispered. “Don’t be ashamed. I’m not. I’ll never be ashamed of wanting what I want.”

As she spoke, she stayed locked on my eyes, and I stared into hers. “This is a fucked-up morning, Molls.”

“This is a fucked-up world, Tyson,” she answered immediately. “What do you want from it?”

I stared at her for a long moment. A giant, sexy, alien snake woman from another world, possibly another universe. A source of stress, embarrassment, and constant thought. In spite of everything. “You, Molls. I want you.”

She reached a hand from beneath her blanket, and slowly extended it toward me. The scales on her skin were deep, swirling purple. When I took her hand in mine, the color sunk into the edges, where the other hard line of permanent color was.

A line of solid purple formed, creating a blended color between it and the band of red. She smiled at me, and the part of me that had been clenched since I awoke that day finally uncurled. I took my first full breath of the morning, and my mind focused on the future. There were many things to protect at Silken Sands, and that was more important than my feelings about what I had done in the name of protecting them.

With another warm smile, Molls squeezed my hand and let go. “We will talk more, later. Right now, I must return to bed, and you have something important to do, by the look of your Knowle assistant.” She nodded her chin toward the road.

Jada was stomping up the path, her club dangling from her hip and a large handgun gripped in one paw. It looked like the .40 cal from the other day.

More BuyMort bullshit coming my way. I sighed and faced her incoming figure.

Chapter 1

“Have you seen Axle?” she demanded.

I shook my head, standing from the comfortable chair. Axle had made our first sale of Sleem, but after that, I couldn’t track him. The Fumble-Bees sprang to mind, and I made a mental note to get that thing up and running again.

My phone was out and in my hand in an instant. I asked the floating bald head on the plastic screen for Axle, but he shook his head after trying to connect me.

“Not answering,” the psychic deity informed me. Jada grumbled something about having already tried that, but I turned away and focused on the phone.

“Can you tell me why?”

The deity’s voice rang in my head, while his lips remained a thin line. “Due to the language of my contract with BuyMort, I am unable to provide any specific information on incapacitated affiliate members, or the nature of their incapacity, if it derives from capture.”

The deity raised his eyebrows at me and shrugged before he muttered, “Oops.” The phone went blank in my hands, and my blood ran cold.

Jada’s jaw dropped. She was staring at the phone in my hand. He must have been in her head as well as mine.

The implications of what the trapped deity had said were clear. Why he was helping me at all, on the other hand, was unclear. I discarded that line of thought. Axle had been incapacitated, by getting captured.

Who had captured him seemed obvious once I thought for a moment. I had told Taytrinn that Quadrum wanted my people to avoid the underground area. They must have captured him when he went to make the Sleem sale, while the rest of us slept.

I should have made him take hobbs with him. Or remembered the lie I had told Taytrinn.

My hands clenched and unclenched as I thought about the Knowle in the grips of the black widow Taytrinn. How it was my stupid fuck-up that put him in harm’s way, again. I had just killed Mr. Sada for far less, and I started to shake in rage as I stood and thought about it.

“Fuck it,” I said, turning and running upstairs. I pulled my helmet back on, grabbed the rest of my gear, and hopped off the second floor balcony again.

“Molls, I’m sorry to ask, but can you baby-sit Cube for me please?”

She nodded and rearranged her blanket. “Of course. I’ll call for a hobb to relieve me when one is available.”

“Thank you! Oh, uhh, be careful. I think he eats meat. Among other things,” I said. She smiled and nodded.

With Cube seen to, I turned back to Jada.

“The delves have him. You want to come kill ‘em with me?” I asked, one arm extended.

The seven foot tall hyena-woman rumbled deep in her throat. Her eyes dilated, and she gripped my arm with her huge paw.

As soon as I stormed out of my own drive-way, Doofus grunted from Phyllis’s porch, and got up to follow me. He caught up while I was waiting for the gate to be opened.

“No Doof,” I growled. “We’re going to go do something bad.”

The huge dog looked at me intently but stopped at the gate. He sniffed the air behind me, extending his head and peering at me intently.

“You’re a good dog, Doofus.” I jogged away with Jada as the gate opened.

As we jogged down the hallway-road to the mansion’s lot, I texted Rayna. “Never mind the raid. Doing it myself now, they took Axle. Secure the underground and shoot any delves you see.”

She responded almost immediately. “K.”

When Jada shoved the gates to the mansion open, the area looked completely different. The house was gone entirely, down to the bricks in the basement walls. A depression in the ground remained, along with the hatch, and a short section of tunnel that vanished underneath the driveway.

The empty pool was on the other side of the depression, and a line of bicycles were parked to the side. Aside from that, and the Tesla, nothing remained.

Sure was easy to cover up murder when nobody cared about it.

I snarled inside my helmet and pushed aside the thought, stomping toward the metal hatch. Jada followed.

There wasn’t really a plan of action that I was pursuing, just a vague sense of rage and loss. I didn’t know Axle very well yet, but he was part of my affiliate, and had helped me immeasurably already.

There was no way Silken Sands could afford to lose him, and I was pretty sure Jada might kill me if he died.

The thought slowed me before I could smash in the metal hatch.

I reached for the hatch and hesitated again, drawing a confused look from Jada. She was drooling, and had a light foam building up in the corner of her bared fangs. As eager to get to killing as I was, but a thought had stopped me. There wasn’t even any way for me to know how many delves Jada and I were up against.

Afflqwst popped up and saved me again, offering a detailed explanation of my situation.

Quest - Hostile forces have captured your operations manager to use as a hostage in an upcoming attack on your affiliate. Respond.

REQUIREMENTS:

1. Locate operations manager. (incomplete)

2. Rescue operations manager. (incomplete)

3. (Optional) Ensure physical safety of operations manager during rescue. (incomplete)

4. (Optional) Eliminate hostile affiliate. 42/42 alive. (Incomplete)

REWARD – BuyMort credit rating upgrade recommendation. Recommendation based on performance.

I nodded as I read through the quest. These delves were just monsters, to be cleared out of my basement. Nothing I hadn’t done before.

Afflqwst had given me valuable intel, likely gained by linking to Axle’s BuyMort account and eavesdropping. I knew he was alive, and I knew the delves were keeping him that way for the moment. That was enough.

“There’s forty-two of them, Jada. Are you ready for those odds?” I asked.

She growled and gripped her heavy mace. “Is that all?”

“We stay in stealth as long as we can. You on board with that?” I asked, one hand on the hatch.

“Just get me in front of them.”

I nodded, and we carefully and quietly removed the hatch from the basement tunnel. It was significantly easier with my newly enhanced strength, which had increased again during the night.

The heavy metal hatch, which had required two hobbs to lift up and down, was feather light to me. Jada didn’t even help, she just stood guard. I could feel a growing strength in my lower limbs as well, and suspected new colonies were forming on my legs, to enable more power blow abilities from them.

Should make kicking down doors easier.

My helmet lit up the hallways around me as I stalked silently through them, Doofus at my side. At the midpoint intersection, I noticed movement in the ceiling above me and purposefully ignored it. The stealthy elf had hidden himself away in the broken ceiling vent the Sleem had destroyed the other day.

Jada didn’t look up either, but she sniffed the air and emitted a very faint, low growl.

It made sense, really. There was plenty of room for the sneaky elf to peek out and see the room below, the entire area was recessed and hidden from even enhanced vision. My helmet tracked his movement and pointed him out, or I would never have known where he was.

I stopped directly underneath the hole in the ceiling and nodded. “It’s okay, I know,” I said. Then I jumped directly up.

My legs were stronger than I was used to, and my helmet cracked into the concrete ceiling. I grabbed the dark elf by his shock white hair before he could react and dragged him out of the hole in the ceiling with me.

I landed on both feet. He slapped into the concrete in a belly-flop, driving the breath from his lungs.

Before he could recover enough to do more than gasp like a fish dragged from the water, I grabbed him by one foot, took a few quick steps toward the hangar, and hurled his entire body into the dark of the cavernous room.

Jada snarled in surprise. Her eyes glinted in the dark, and she followed the movement away.

A full count of three-Mississippi later, I heard a wet thud as the elf landed, and Jada’s ears twitched. My increased strength impressed me, the sound had come from roughly the same elevation he was at when he took off.

Instead of checking on the body, I just glanced at my quest on the app.

Quest - Hostile forces have captured your operations manager to use as a hostage in an upcoming attack on your affiliate. Respond.

REQUIREMENTS:

1. Locate operations manager. (incomplete)

2. Rescue operations manager. (incomplete)

3. (Optional) Ensure physical safety of operations manager during rescue. (incomplete)

4. (Optional) Eliminate hostile affiliate. 41/42 alive. (Incomplete)

REWARD – BuyMort credit rating upgrade recommendation. Recommendation based on performance.

Very useful indeed. The app let me cheat, giving me access to BuyMort information.

We started jogging, being careful not to make too much noise. But now that one of them was dead, it was only a matter of time before his boss Taytrinn noticed his absence. After descending the stairs into the hangar, I jogged in the direction of the Sleem farm.

Tiny though our Sleem farming operation was, it was a good point of reference for me, as it was set up directly in front of the hidden tunnel’s door. I hoped they didn’t know about it, but even if they did, it would spit me out in the middle of their area, which was better than trying to assault the front.

My hope was that we could find Axle before they killed him. Get in fast, then deal with whatever happens after we save him.

I hadn’t known Taytrinn, the lady of this house of delves, for very long. But I knew enough. She was arrogant. Cruel. Hot tempered. Sure of herself. Used to getting her way in all things, and not at all used to the sensation of loss.

If she’d killed Axle I was going to tear her apart. The same thing was pretty likely to happen to her if she hadn’t, but I still held out hope for my new friend. As we silently stalked down the empty hidden tunnel behind the Sleem farm, I stared hard at the opposite wall.

The hidden door was sealed by a heavy wheel, and when we arrived I stopped to look at the room. Everything was exactly as I had left it, down to the stained concrete that had been beneath the corpses. I guess their blood had been part of the flooring long enough that BuyMort didn’t gather it when it took the mummified bodies.

I spun the wheel easily, wincing at the muted clunk of moving metal parts in the wall. Then I pushed it lightly, sliding open a corner big enough to peer through. All I could see was a patch of piled rags in the corner, next to a small metal bottle and an etched silver bowl.

“It won’t speak yet, but our lady suspects a sizable force of combat hobbs,” a deep voice said in the near distance. Sharp boot-steps sounded, two sets. It sounded like they were in the hallway outside.

Jada hunkered down behind me and growled faintly, her ears flat against her head. The mace was gripped tightly in her paw.

It was about time to act.

Chapter 2

A lighter, feminine voice spoke next. “Pathetic. Combat hobbs are only good for dying. They’ll be no match for us.” Her voice rose in a titter. “Do you think they even have personal shields? Or will they be wearing physical armor, like the serfs they are?”

I glanced over to see Jada at a ready position, lips pulled back in a vicious snarl. With a gentle movement of my hand, I indicated patience and swung the door closed to a crack again, just enough to hear through.

“How would I know that? We aren’t allowed topside until the affiliate is subordinated,” the male voice responded. He sounded almost bored.

“Oh such a spoil-sport. You know I like the blood, talking about it gets me eager for it,” she growled, a wicked grin evident in her voice. “Like sex.”

The boot-clicks passed the room by, and I slid the doorway open a little further. Jada moved silently, shifting the wall further open to allow her barrel chest and broad shoulders to pass through it.

I nearly shouted in alarm when I slid around the door. The giant spider was in the room with us, as was the dark elf in coveralls, and another guard. They were both facing the other direction, staring out the recently cleared doorway, on the far side of the room. The spider was curled into the far corner, tucked away on the ceiling.

The guard had the other elf in a chokehold around his neck, effectively silencing him. They both appeared to be watching the other guards in the hallway as they left. Once they got far enough away, the guard in question raised a finger to his lips and released the dark elf in coveralls.

The second elf twisted away and saw us. He reacted immediately by raising his arms in surrender.

“Get the guard.” I growled, just loud enough for the helmet to broadcast it. The words weren’t loud, but everyone in the room heard.

Jada rushed forward as the guard whirled around, his former victim forgotten. She gripped his face in a massive paw and clamped down, bending the elf over one knee as she muffled his protests and crushed both throat and chest with her massive paws.

She held the position as the dark elf struggled, but he quickly went limp as his bones began breaking. Jada started with his spine but in her anger broke several more as well. The other elf remained perfectly still, hands raised in surrender but standing between us and the giant spider on the wall.

“Please don’t hurt her, is all I ask,” he whispered.

“Watch them,” I growled. Jada nodded, staying crouched in the shadows.

I slipped over to the doorway and peeked out. It was covered by hanging silks and had waist-high stacks of baskets on either side of the doorway. The residential hallway was filled with delves, milling about and congregating.

Orbs of soft white light shined from the corners, and gave the area a shadowy look, when combined with the silk drapes covering everything. Light and shadow danced in the concrete hallways, now festooned with rugs and fine ebony stone furnishings.

Within several of the lounge areas lay even more delves, basking in the glow of large black orbs, which were hung from the ceilings. The orbs appeared to be black pearls of enormous size, suspended from chains bolted into the concrete roofing.

The delves lounged on long couches, love seats, and lumpy sacks of leather filled with gummy liquid. Their eyes were rolled back in their heads, and each elf writhed in gentle ecstasy. The pearls pulsed with soft black light, and the lounge areas were all focused on a large bowl of steaming liquid, suspended from a tall stand in the center.

There were four lounges in total, spread out around the central common area. Closely packed furnishings spiraled around the pearl, placements chosen for the small ridges and sharp grooves that jutted from the orbs' otherwise smooth surface.

The vapor from the liquid rose to the pearl hanging from the ceiling and rebuffed from its surface, creating a light fog in the area covered by the pearl’s light. Droplets of moisture would form and drip from several variant surfaces on each orb, and the lounges seemed to be positioned beneath the imperfect surface to allow the dark elves to catch droplets with their mouths.

Several had their mouths hanging laxly open, waiting for their next droplet, their next dose.

At the far end of the hallway, standing guard by the elevator, were two taller delves in armor. They lightly conversed with one another and ignored the delves luxuriating in whatever their pearls did for them. The other hallway had a single guard, with bigger weaponry, who appeared to be paying attention.

I ducked my head back inside to avoid his roaming gaze.

Jada growled softly behind me. I turned back and addressed the elf in coveralls, ignoring the giant spider huddled in the far corner.

“You need to tell me where my friend is,” I growled, “right now.”

Slender hands rose in front of his face, pointing down the hallway toward the more serious guard. “Down one floor, in Lady Shireen’s private residence. It is the third room from the nearby staircase, you cannot miss it. There will be two guards with plasma lances standing at alert.”

I hesitated, cocking my helmet to the side. Jada glanced at me, then snarled and turned back to the spider as it moved.

It whimpered and drew its body further up into the corner, tucking its large legs as far in as they would go. It still bulged from the corner. Jada cocked her head and stopped growling but stood still and wouldn’t look away from the huge creature.

“What is your name?” I asked.

“Dro’erja, of the House of None,” he said, bowing low. He gesticulated with one hand held to the side as he said House of None, but the motion meant nothing to me.

“Why are you helping us?” I asked. “Against your own, no less.”

Dro’erja blinked repeatedly and sighed. As if he was about to say something he said often but was never able to make truly understood.

“I am afraid I do not care for morties, or the machinations of the great delve houses. My only calling is to Shela, and to the continuation of her life. Swamp-spinners are dying out, and Shela is all I care for in this cruel multi-verse,” he said. The words sounded practiced, and I saw his narrow chest swell with pride.

I pointed to the spider behind him. “That’s Shela?”

He blinked and nodded. “Yes, the last swamp-spinner of House Shireen. It is my duty and life’s greatest honor to care for her.”

Jada rumbled deep in her chest, glaring at the dark elf. I stared at her for a long moment, before turning back to Dro’erja.

“Aid us, and she lives. Understood?”

He nodded immediately. “I have no loyalty toward the House of Shireen.” The dark elf swallowed hard and took a steadying breath. “May I move behind you? My water ration is in that bottle, and I see no reason to save it further.”

Jada stiffened, the wiry hair on her back sticking out as she stared at the dark elf with her teeth bared.

I stepped carefully to the pile of rags and retrieved the banged up metal bottle for him. When I handed it to him, he repeated the same strange bow as before and took it happily. Using both hands to carefully drink without spilling, he emptied the bottle and took a long breath at the end.

“Thank you.” Dro’erja swallowed hard again and nodded at me. “Very much. I would prefer to die without thirst on my tongue.”

“Who says you’re dying?” I asked, casually.

The look in his eyes changed. He blinked, scowled momentarily, and then resumed his former posture. “You have clearly come to kill the interlopers in your basement, which is us. My stated lack of loyalty to the House of Shireen does not appear to matter to your companion.”

I touched the bull’s head ring on my hand and scowled. “I decide if you live or die right now, not her.”

“Unless he was part of taking my Axle,” Jada rumbled from beside me. I frowned and shrugged, with a nod.

“I decide if you live or die, unless you had anything to do with taking our friend.”

Jada glanced at me, but I simply stared at the dark elf in front of us.

He looked between the two of us, before shaking his head and lowering his hands. “I am no threat to you, nor any part of the machinations of House Shireen.” He turned and indicated the spider. “I am web-borne, I care for the great spiders of my home world, long since destroyed.”

“Okay,” I sighed, moving back to check the door again. “This has officially turned into a job interview, and we do not have time for that right now.”

None of the revelers or guards had changed position, but I did see a patrol of three more guards descending the stairs from the first residential level. Walking back to the hidden door, I hauled it open.

“Here’s the deal. You and Shela can leave, right now. Go anywhere on Nu-Earth you like, and take your spider with you,” I started. When he blanched at the concept, I continued, “or, you can wait with her behind this door and become part of this affiliate once I’m done with your old friends.”

His lip twitched in the corner of his mouth, and he immediately shook his head. “They are not my friends, I welcome their slaughter. I will stay where you tell me and join your affiliate, so long as you offer Shela safety.”

Jada moved silently to the doorway. She was shockingly quiet, her bare footpads far more effective at diffusing noise than even my gummy Sleem stomper boots.

I nodded at Dro’erja. “As much as I can offer it. Now get her moving, you need to get behind that wall.”

He shook his head. “A patrol is coming soon. They will look in on me, and Shela, to make sure we are where we are expected to be.”

“They’re coming now,” Jada growled.

Dro’erja blinked and shook his head. “You and your companion should hide behind the wall, I will send them away. If I am missing, they will begin a search and place the entire area in a security lockdown.”

The hackles on Jada’s back rose, and she stepped across the room to grab the elf by his collar.

“Jada!” I hissed.

She turned and I saw claws glint in the low light. “He will betray us!” The huge Knowle hissed at me.

I shook my head. “He won’t.”

The huge, clawed paw loosened, and she narrowed her eyes at me. “And if he does?”

I shrugged as I reached down and grabbed the crumpled elf guard’s shirt to lift him. I felt the tickle of static as I did, his personal shield was still active.

“Then I’ll tear this place apart and kill every single living thing down here except Axle until we get him back. Even the beholder and Sleem if I need to.”

The spider cringed further into her corner, scuffling as she tried to look smaller again. A second later I heard the click of the guards boots and saw Jada’s ears twitch.

She exhaled and let go of the dark elf, before silently running to the hidden door. I hauled it back closed but refrained from turning the lock. Jada rested one hand on the slab of concrete and clutched at her mace with the other. While we waited, I quietly stripped the guard of his loose silk clothing and crammed it into my bag.

I offered the shield to Jada, who accepted it and added the device to her own belt, pushing the blue gem at the center to activate it. A thin blue light erupted from the device, and Jada’s hair stood up on end from the static.

With the door closed, we couldn’t hear what passed between the elves in the other room. It was a quiet conversation, and brief. Within a moment, Dro’erja was at the door, trying to pull it open. Jada held it tight until I nodded at her.

Dro’erja immediately raised his arms in surrender again as the door opened. I glanced out, looking around the room in a quick sweep before I nodded to him. “Take her, hide in here. If you turn the wheel on the other side of the door, it locks. We’ll be back with our friend soon. Stay here, or my hobbs will probably kill you, and Shela.”

He nodded grimly, then turned and made a swift, silent hand motion to the giant spider. She immediately scuttled over, staying on the ceiling, and crept into the hidden room as Dro’erja walked inside. Another hand motion, and she curled into a ball in the far corner of the room.

The elf whispered, “Thus falls the House of Shireen.”

I turned and stared at him as the door closed, then walked to the exit with Jada. My phone got hot in my pocket, and I pulled it out to see Rayna’s grey face. I lifted it to one ear and whispered, “report.”

“We in position. Hangar, medical, and crossroads secured,” she said.

I nodded. “Hold those, kill any delves who come up from residential. I have an agent in the hidden passage behind the Sleem farm, do not harm him or his spider.”

“Got it boss. Leave coms open.” She set her phone down on something, and I could see her putting an earpiece in.

“Yep.” I left my phone on and slid it into my pocket. Her image appeared in my helmet, and I swiped it away to a corner. Our phone bill was going to kill me when it came due.

I turned to Jada. “Let’s go.”

Chapter 3

She held open the drapes over the doorway for me and I slipped out, positioning myself behind a tall stack of empty wicker baskets. From there, I watched until the guard at the far end was scanning the secondary hallway before I slipped across the hallway into a larger room.

It used to be a grocery store, back when this was a secret army base. The delves appeared to be using it for short term storage. More baskets were everywhere in stacks, as were spare bolts of silk cloth and several of the orbs they hung for lighting.

Jada slipped in behind me, sticking to cover instead of relying on the shadows. I figured the same way she must have, that the delves could likely see in the dark well enough to spot us anyway. Staying physically out of sight was our only option.

Slipping down the length of the storage room was simple, but what faced us next would not be. The guard outside the nearby stairs was merely feet away from the far exit, and he was facing our direction.

I produced the other guard’s clothing, which was thankfully clean of blood. Jada had crushed him but had been careful not to cut him anywhere. I appreciated that attention to detail as I slipped into the clothing, removing my helmet, and swapping it for a light silk hood.

Jada blinked at the doorway, her ears flicking back and forth at every sound.

I left my helmet, highwater blaster, and plasma falchion with Jada and stepped out into the hallway, moving with purpose toward the guard.

He saw me coming almost immediately, and I averted my face from his penetrating gaze as I hurriedly approached. I raised a hand, with one finger up, as if trying to get his attention, and saw the confusion flicker across his features for an instant.

It was enough. I lunged, using my leg’s growing strength to hurl myself the remainder of the distance. He reacted, raising a silvery long blade and driving its edge into my leg as I slammed into him. The delve’s head bounced against the wall behind him, and the static from his shield flickered as it partially protected him from the blow.

I snarled and grabbed him under both arms, before squeezing as hard as I could, trying to bring both palms together. His torso crushed and he wheezed in sudden pain. There was no scream as he died, and I immediately began descending the stairs.

Jada followed, watching over her shoulder. She offered my gear back to me when she got close enough.

“The far guards noticed something. They’re coming,” she grunted.

I dropped the guard’s body. “Doesn’t matter. Our only goal is getting to Axle before they realize we’re coming for him.” We began descending the stairs and were greeted by Taytrinn’s door guard. One of them had come closer to inspect the thud of my impact with the upstairs guard, and his red eyes gleamed at me in the dark.

Instead of moving toward me, the guard scrambled backwards, shouting at the top of his lungs.

I nodded. “Yeah, that’s about right.” I slid my helmet in place as I moved to one side.

Jada rushed past me, leaping from the bottom of the staircase to land on the guard as he fled. These ones wore armor over their silk clothing and carried lances that erupted into tips of burning red plasma when activated.

The second door guard rushed forward with his lance, tip pointed at Jada. She tore into the first guard, savaging his throat and chest with her teeth and claws.

I charged, drawing Falcor again. The guard saw me coming and turned his charge to meet me. A quick side-step of my clumsy swing, and he had me, shoving his plasma lance through my midsection in a swift, efficient thrust.

I stopped and gagged as the flames from the lace immolated part of my intestines. The suit activated, and I watched my opponent's eyes widen behind his armor as he saw the tendrils deploy.

With fresh painkiller rushing through my system, I braced my legs and yanked the lance further through myself, staggering the dark elf a step closer. He realized he was in range an instant before I grabbed him by the collar and hurled him into the concrete wall behind us. The elf died instantly, leaving a giant white blood stain behind on the wall.

I reached around behind myself and hauled his lance the rest of the way out, dropping it to the floor as my suit started working to carve great chunks out of my torso and replace them.

Jada stepped away as my turbine spun up, ejecting a spurt of charred gore. I staggered back and leaned against the wall as the suit worked and watched my cartoon starfish.

“This is a lot of damage user, find something to break!” It exclaimed.

I snarled, nodded at Jada, and turned to Taytrinn’s door. This level was just above experimentation and the Sleem pit, and the delves had done some work securing it.

Taytrinn’s door was huge and looked like silvered steel from the outside. It matched a hatch covering the stairwell down, with huge electronic panels set in the center for accessing the locking mechanism.

I didn’t bother turning on the panel. Looking at my hands, I nearly activated both breaker gauntlets, but stopped when I noticed the ring Mr. Sada had willed to me. A vision of what would happen to it if I summoned my gauntlets made me pause and take it off first, slipping the item into a pocket.

Then I brought the gauntlets out, to Jada’s surprise. The thin metal bands across the back of my arms, hands, and fingers all sprang out, and armor sections slid from the glowing portals to cover my arms to the elbow.

With a thought, I activated my breaker and slammed a fist into the door. I held back my power blow ability, as there was no way to know where Axle was, and I didn’t want to crush him by sending a giant chunk of metal flying into the room. The door crumpled in the center, bent inward from its hinges, and shattered into metal dust at the impact crater.

My cartoon starfish danced in glee as my suit’s charge refilled.

Jada’s eyes remained wide as I pushed the remnants of the door aside, but she rushed in as soon as I was out of the way.

I stepped in behind her and stopped in my tracks, atomic breaker gauntlets still humming. Lady Taytrinn Shireen stood beside Axle, who was strapped into a metal frame hung from the wall.

His shirt was off, and his gear was piled beside him. Fresh cuts were visible across his ribs, even through the thick fur, and he was covered in dried blood.

Jada and I both glared directly at Taytrinn. She held a long bladed knife to the side of Axle’s throat, gleaming tip tucked partially under his slumped chin. The Knowle was unconscious and based on how much blood was on the floor at his feet, it wasn’t hard to guess why.

She’d been torturing him.

The dark elf mistress glanced between me and the snarling Knowle at my side.

“Don’t take a step closer!”

The hand she held at Axle’s throat shook.

I took a single step toward her.

Her ivory eyebrows rose in fury, but she froze when I raised a hand.

“Don’t do anything, Taytrinn. So far, nothing you’ve done is permanent,” I said, just loud enough for the helmet to broadcast. “Nothing you’ve done can’t be undone.”

She blinked several times, looking between me and Jada.

Jada snarled but didn’t say anything. She just clutched at her mace.

“The instant you do something permanent, it can’t be undone,” I said, taking another step closer. “And then we won’t be talking anymore. Right now we’re just talking.”

The dark elf across from me suddenly grimaced. I recognized the expression as a precursor to violence. Her face was twisting up in preparation for a sudden and violent act.

I launched myself, pushing off the concrete floor behind me hard.

The knife clattered to the floor as I slammed into Taytrinn, and we both bounced off the wall behind her. I clutched at her throat with one hand as we fell and rammed the tip of Falcor into her slender midsection.

The delves leader exhaled in a gentle moan and stared down at her stomach with wide, shocked eyes. My ‘magic’ sword had gone through her like she was made of paper, and her personal shield was throwing a fit around the edges of the blade. Tiny sparks and arcs of lightning streaked from it to the sharp edge of the blade, which blurred with the activity.

Taytrinn took a breath, then grimaced in pain and coughed out thick, white blood. I left the sword where it was, pinning her to the concrete, and turned back to Jada and Axle.

She had dropped her mace and rushed to him, trying to wake him while she struggled to untie him from the metal rack on the wall.

Movement in the doorway caught my attention, and I moved to block Jada and Axle with my own body.

The other guards had caught up to us and formed a firing squad in the doorway. White hot slag filled the air between us as they opened fire, and I raised both breaker gauntlets to protect my chest and stomach.

I stood, legs braced, as six dark elf guards in the doorway unloaded their rifles into me. Jada threw herself over Axle, to cover him from the onslaught, but I took the brunt of it.

Dozens of slag rounds filled the air, sunk into my stomach, arms, legs, and shoulders. A high pitched squeal of pain from behind me indicated at least one got past, and I turned my head to see Jada’s shield active and protecting them from most of what got through. It was Axle who had screamed in pain, when molten slag from a round had splashed against his exposed bicep.

I roared in anger and pain, whipped my plasma falchion out of its scabbard, and activated the blade. Red plasma rushed into the containment line along the edge and lit up the room as my suit deployed dozens of tendrils to repair the damage to my body.

The room glittered and swayed under the effect of the painkiller, but instinct had taken over anyway. My higher reasoning center was just along for the ride, as I allowed my violent instincts to direct my actions.

Most of the limb damage was superficial, and my suit was in the process of repairing it. The suit seemed to prioritize the return of function, when making choices how to repair me, and closing the distance was easy.

Tendrils swayed and swirled around my form as I stepped into the middle of a group of dark elf warriors. In a row, each of them ignited plasma weapons of their own. Most were lances, but I saw one that curved around the edge of the weapon in a short arc, giving it the appearance of a great, glowing, red ax head.

I lashed out at the nearest elf, on my right. They dodged my swing easily and thrust with their plasma lance, as the other five all lunged in to do the same. My suit saved me again. Any plasma weapon edge that interacted with a tendril spat an explosion of sparks and bounced off.

The elf I had missed with my swing suddenly found himself inside my grabbing range, and his eyes went wide as he realized his mistake. My left arm reached across and lifted him bodily off his feet. I dragged him through my plasma falchion’s blade, shorting out his shield and cutting him in half before I tossed what was left of him at the delves to my left.

I lunged at the next one in their formation on the right, missing as he dodged my grasp. They were fast, and I kept opening myself to counter attack. The suit deployed more tendrils as a lance thrust into my hip and melted the bones supporting my left leg together.

Even through the glowing fog of painkillers, that hurt, and my leg locked in place, sending me crashing to the ground. More tendrils deployed, as more weapons sunk into me. I watched, half aware, as the glowing ax head sought entry through the cloud of starfish suit limbs inadvertently defending my form.

The starfish gyrated behind them, seeking my attention. “Charge dropping fast user! Break something, break something!”

That sounded like a great idea.

Dark elf legs surrounded me, all in a close circle as they shouted and jabbed and swung at me. Almost lazily, I reached out for the nearest limb, grabbed hold of it at the ankle, and squeezed.

The elf screamed in a voice so high pitched that my helmet cut part of it out to protect my higher ranges of hearing. I chuckled at the notification it gave me and grabbed another leg. This time I had them near the knee, and when I squeezed, the limb offered slight resistance before the bone crushed to shards.

Another voice joined the screaming, and the flurried rain of blows stopped. The other elves danced back a step, as I regained my newly repaired legs and lifted my falchion. Two of the remaining three delves exchanged glances and then moved as one to attack.

I watched with mild interest as the plasma lance tip thrust past my tendrils and through my belly. I stepped forward, into the thrust, welcoming the elf into range. The sensation was dulled to the point of an echo, by the heavy flood of painkillers, but the fire caught and burned away the last of my stolen silks. Yet more suit tendrils erupted and went to work repairing the damage and putting out the flames.

The dark elf screamed as he was encased by my tendril cloud. The thin whip arms left him alone, but he knew what it meant to be that close. I wrapped both arms around him and squeezed him into me in a bear hug, crushing his spine and ribs before dropping him to the floor.

I turned to face the ax-wielder, pointing with a metal encased finger. He scrambled back and used the haft of his weapon to shove the other remaining defender in my path.

He stumbled close and I slashed at him with my falchion. The flames guttered on his shield as my charge depleted, so I dropped the weapon and leapt forward onto him instead.

With a scream of panic, the dark elf produced a dagger and shoved it into my throat. I gurgled and choked, but clenched my arms in any way, crushing him against my body.

A tendril grabbed the hilt of the knife and ripped it out, before another began cauterizing the damage with a laser, and yet another began spraying flesh foam in to repair the gaping hole. I turned to the next elf, who screamed and dropped his lance, backing away.

The dark elf with the ax sneered and sprinted off into the darkness.

I gasped and bent to lean on the nearby wall as the suit worked. Great gouts of bloody gore were ejected from the turbine, and what felt like hundreds of tendrils swarmed my body affecting repairs.

The starfish danced and cheered me. “Great work keeping up the charge during heavy periods of repair, user. Now just top off the batteries, and the work will be complete.”

I turned back to the last two living elves, both with broken limbs. The elf with the shattered ankle was up and trying to hobble away, using the wall as support. The other was simply lying on the floor, staring at me with wide, red eyes.

Without hesitation, I stomped on his chest and stepped over him as he died. In a few steps, I caught up to the other elf, and pressed them into the wall with a hard shove. Both died nearly instantly, and the little cartoon starfish who told me what to do assured me that I had done a good job. I didn’t bother thinking about it too much and turned back to help Jada with Axle.

When I entered the room again, I took a quick look at the former owner. She was dead, both hands still clutching the hilt of Falcor, red eyes glazed over. Dro’erja’s words from earlier rang in my ears again, as the painkiller began to work its way out of me.

“Thus falls the House of Shireen.”

Chapter 4

Axle was hurt. I couldn’t see how bad, but Jada was working on him, using something from one of the pouches on her outfit.

I pulled out my phone, swiped Rayna’s call off to one side, and asked the psychic head to call Dr. Miles. He scowled but nodded and connected us.

The doctor was at his desk again, looking at a screen in front of him.

“How can I help you,” he started, pausing to look at the screen. “Oh, Tyson Dawes, of Silken Sands. I was hoping you would call again, I wanted to talk to you about something.” His features lit up in a smile. “Something kind of important, actually.”

“Great, later. Are you Knowle qualified, and if not, do you know someone who is?” I said.

He blinked. “I am, yes.”

“Good, get here. As fast as you possibly can.” I glanced at Axle again, he seemed to be barely conscious. Jada was staring at me.

“Of course, just open a ticket, I’ll be waiting.” He swiped something closed on his screen and reached beside his desk for a large, boxy kit on wheels.

I nodded and disconnected the call, before pulling up BuyMort. Within seconds, I had his page pulled up and was filling in the requisite information. The cost was exorbitant, but I glanced around the opulent room we were in and shrugged. We’d have plenty of morties once the delves were all dead, or in Storage if they didn’t fight.

With a large fee for an extradimensional pod, Dr. Miles was there in seconds, along with two bodyguards. They went to secure the room as Dr. Miles quickly moved into place at Axle’s side.

“Hi there, I’m Dr. Miles and I’ll be treating these wounds today, do I have your permission to treat you?”

Axle croaked something, and Dr. Miles nodded. “Alright, thank you. It looks like you’ve been cut up some, and lost a lot of blood. That’s got you in a state of general shock, which I’m about to help with a quick jab, then get you an infusion while I work on these wounds. Oh that looks like a slag burn on your arm, don’t worry.” He smiled reassuringly. “This is all easy to fix.”

The doctor glanced between myself and Jada. “There’s nothing life-threatening here but the blood loss,” he said, turning back to his work on the Knowle.

I watched as he waved a device that looked like a phone over the Knowle, scanned through it for a few seconds, and then nodded. He produced a syringe. “The scanner says you’re healthy otherwise and have no allergies or expected reactions to any of my drugs or tools. Should have you patched up in no time.”

Jada was still at Axle’s side, gripping his paw. She had done enough anyway, I didn’t need her for what came next. I grabbed my sword Falcor out of Taytrinn’s midsection and returned it to its sheath. The sword gave me a moment of trouble, where the sheath didn’t want to click closed on the haft, but it worked properly after I pulled the blade back out and slipped it in again.

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I frowned down at the magic sword but swept away the ads and turned to leave. There was more work to be done. I’d take a better look at the blade when I had time.

The bodyguards had posted up at the door, and as I approached, one of them nodded his chin at me. The man was Orkreshi and carried an ax along with a large projectile weapon I couldn’t immediately identify.

He pointed at the corpses outside. “This your handiwork?”

I nodded. “They took my friend. Tortured him.”

The orc grinned and shook his head. “Didn’t say you needed a reason. They’re delves. Dangerous pests. I’m just impressed.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re having a good time,” I said, turning down the hall and walking the way the final elf had gone when he fled.

“Rayna.” I swiped the call part of the way back toward the center of my vision, but placed it down and to the side, where it wouldn’t be a hindrance.

“Yeah, boss,” she replied immediately.

“I’m heading back up. We need to clear this place out.” I paused at the staircase I had descended, leaning in to peer up.

“Right, we move down. Yarsps coming soon, boss. We need to get back on the walls.” She grunted in a low voice to her hobbs, and I saw them begin moving in the small image on my helmet.

Within a few seconds, a fire fight erupted on-screen. I pulled up the image to watch more closely. The hobbs were playing it safe, and smart. They had lined up their oversized metal shields at the front of their formation, and when they began taking fire, they simply established their own cover, and returned fire with the expensive plasma rifles stolen from the first wave of Dearth mercenaries.

Each of the delves guarding the facility were wearing personal shields, but a couple of blasts from a plasma rifle took those down quickly. Immediately after a shield would short out, a rifle would bark, and a dark elf would fall down dead.

Even in a fire fight, Rayna had them being careful with the plasma ammunition.

The delves fired molten slag ammunition back, but the huge metal shields caught the worst of it, adding the searing metal to their surfaces. Eventually they might get too heavy to move, but the simple defense was effective against the high tech rifle. The weapon appeared to have been designed with the Sleem and BuyMort bugs in mind, as opposed to the ingenuity of my combat hobbs.

Based on the way the delves talked about hobbs, I had worried about this battle, but BlueCleave proved to be exceptional yet again.

I charged up the stairs, watching the fight in my peripheral as I moved to join it. The dark elf with the bald head and fancy armor was in that fight, leading what was left of his security forces, including the elf with the plasma ax.

My headlong rush was interrupted by over a dozen delves as I crested the stairs.

They were all gathered around the dead guard, staring with wide red eyes, and open mouths. It was the crowd from the pearls. My arrival spooked the drugged up delves, and several of them produced weapons.

“Who wants to live?” I asked, trying to draw Falcor.

The same small hang-up that had occurred when I sheathed it happened again, in reverse. The sword stuck in the scabbard for an instant, before something released, and it drew as normal. “Does magic malfunction?” I thought as I swung the blade at the nearest snarling elf.

This group of delves were visibly intoxicated. Very obviously high. Their movements were lagging, and they swayed unsteadily. They held onto their weapons just fine, though, so I started cutting through them.

The first dark elf fell apart at the midsection, a look of abject shock firmly on his features. The blade sparked and vibrated in my hand as it passed through his shield.

Several of them surrounded me and stabbed me repeatedly. My helmet took a count of the incoming blows, while I sank to my knees and welcomed the suit’s painkillers back into my veins. The hallway took on a glow, and the sounds of the firefight upstairs faded away to the rushing thuds of my own heartbeat.

I raised my head, as a swarm of tendrils erupted from the starfish suit and got to work. The delves noticed, and one of them screamed as they became entangled in the mechanical limbs. The suit was trying to extricate itself, but I used the opportunity for a little charge, grabbing the dark elf female by her shirt.

The elf snarled and stabbed into my forearm, twisting the blade, but I just pushed her into the nearby wall, crushing her sternum. I did it slowly enough to avoid activating her shield.

With a roar, I regained my footing and slashed at another elf woman adorned in silks. Falcor bounced off her shield, and I gaped at the weapon for half a second before trying again, adding a power blow activation to my strike.

The sword was suddenly light as a feather, and when it struck the delve’s shield again, a great burst of sparks and tiny lightning arcs followed it through her midsection. I stepped past, pausing to tap the elf in the temple with the tip of my boot. The look of shock and agony on her features instantly slumped to the vacant gaze of those in the void.

Another party-goer slammed into my cloud of tendrils, reaching past to gash my throat with a serrated blade. I felt faint as my blood fountained onto the delves in range, but an instant later fresh blood and more painkillers rushed into my veins from the factory on my chest.

Falcor sparked and hissed as it thrust through the delves’ shield, and I pinned the still-angry elf to the wall with the blade, before letting go of the vibrating hilt and pressing both palms flat against the wall.

I braced myself, and pushed off from the wall, activating my power blow ability and rocketing into the gathered delves. A chorus of screams and grunts of anger erupted as I slammed into them, sending several to the floor with me.

With a grip on any limb I could find, I started crushing down with all my strength. Each wrist, ankle, knee, shoulder, or hip I could get my hands on crushed into shards and powder, and my cartoon starfish danced happily in the dark hall beyond us.

After a few moments, the screams faded to moans and death rattles, and I rolled out of the melee. Several knife blades had been hilted in my sides, back, and chest again. The starfish suit tendrils yanked out any that remained and began repair work again, diligent as ever.

I hardly even noticed the lasers and flesh-foam anymore. It all became a pattern of pain, heavy doses of painkiller as a reward for pain, and then a pronounced physical and mental numbing while everything else happened. All the cutting, tearing, burning, and crushing was as unimportant to me as the violence I committed, while under the influence of the suit.

My cartoon danced and congratulated me when I turned toward it, but I ignored it, retrieved my sword with another explosion of sparks, and started running for the stairs. A few of the silk-garbed revelers had fled the orgy of violence and looked behind as I stormed toward them. I was considerably faster than they were, with the increased strength in my legs.

Most ducked into rooms, or dark hallways to avoid me. The one who didn’t, I slashed at with Falcor. The blade struck his shield at the lower back and rebounded from the static field with an explosion of sparks. He went down, slammed his head into the concrete floor, and slid to a stop with a streak of white blood.

I hacked at him on the way by, and this time the sword went through the shield, lopping off his head for good measure. With a few more steps, I was climbing the final stairs to the primary conflict zone.

Unfortunately, the stairs spit me out directly between both lines. The bald elf in armor spotted me immediately and roared orders, pointing his own rifle at me. I summoned the breaker gauntlets and slammed them together in front of my torso, an instant before slag rounds began to strike and splatter against me.

Rayna used my distraction to take out another three of their fighters with a coordinated strike of plasma rifles to overpower their shields, and then conventional rounds to kill the delves. I braced and took the slag, using my advanced strength to stay standing as hundreds of globs of barely solid metal struck me, splashing scalding droplets across my entire body.

Steam filled the air around me, and I smelled roasting pork in the hot, wet air. My clothing, already torn to shreds, began falling away in large chunks as molten slag clung to it. As the cloud of steam rose and grew, the delves slowed their fire, before ceasing it entirely. Even my boots were full of holes and worthless, falling off as I raised my horrifically injured feet to walk.

I pulled the remainder of my jeans off and tossed them to the side. The suit covered my junk, but before I stepped out of the steam I deactivated that with a command to the cartoon starfish that haunted my peripheral vision.

My highwater blaster was at my back, and my advanced bag had withstood the damage, so I reached inside and produced a MIRV shell. As soon as I cleared the steam, all of the gathered delves gaped at my nude form, swarming with repair tendrils.

I racked the MIRV shell into place and stopped, facing the dark elf with the shaved head. He blinked, a seemingly permanent scowl on his face. “Fighting nude?”

For an instant, I actually felt bad for him. But I shook my head and raised the highwater blaster, aiming it at his face. “No, I have a helmet.” I squeezed the trigger.

A series of explosions roared in the enclosed space, driving cracks into the walls, and knocking the nearby delves flat. I stormed forward, activating my suit’s cup again as I slid another MIRV round in place.

Suppressed rifle fire from the stairwell zipped past me, sinking into the delves spread out on the concrete. Their shields had shorted out protecting them, and most were dazed or already dead before the hobbs did their work. The only elf left standing after the explosion held a large, plasma laced ax. The hobbs targeted him first.

I grinned coldly as he went down, a small hole in the middle of his forehead, and a comically surprised expression on his face.

Within seconds, none of them were left breathing, and I slung the highwater blaster. Rayna and her hobbs approached in a tight wedge formation, with the shield hobbs at the front and sides.

Ordo was at her left, wire-frame Kalashnikov tucked into his shoulder. He was in the classic operator pose, covering his leader’s flank. I could see him take me in at a glance and turn away as mirth broke out on his features.

Rayna nudged my shoulder. “Good distraction, boss,” she grunted, before moving further down the hall. Her hobbs began a fast, but thorough and careful inspection of the residential area.

I sighed and grabbed some silks from the nearby elf corpses littering my basement. The pants I chose were light and airy, I actually ended up loving them the instant I slid them on. The top was a little less user friendly, and I gave up before I could figure out how to properly wrap myself in it to make a shirt. A pair of simple, but very high quality dark leather sandals finished my outfit.

The hobbs and I stormed through the rest of the facility, all the way down to Axle and Jada. We cleared out each and every single living dark elf remaining. None of them would even listen to us, let alone surrender. Every one of them that we found invariably attacked us, and was put down hard.

The only dark elf who hadn’t been aggressive was Dro’erja, and he was still hiding in the secret tunnel behind the old barbershop.

Rayna and the hobbs had less compunction about killing delves than they did about Sleem, if such a thing was possible. I thought about the situation for a moment as we approached the bottom of the residential complex and decided I couldn’t blame them for it.

As we descended the final staircase, I thought to check my app. The quest was complete.

Quest - Hostile forces have captured your operations manager to use as a hostage in an upcoming attack on your affiliate. Respond.

REQUIREMENTS:

1. Locate operations manager. (complete)

2. Rescue operations manager. (complete)

3. (Optional) Ensure physical safety of operations manager during rescue. (complete)

4. (Optional) Eliminate hostile affiliate. 0/41 alive. (complete)

REWARD – BuyMort credit rating upgrade recommendation. Recommendation based on performance.

I was happy that the number of hostile enemies changed itself to reflect that I had spared one, instead of failing me for not killing them all. That also gave me a great deal of confidence in Dro’erjas stated motivations. I assumed Afflqwst had read his mind the way BuyMort constantly read all of ours.

The affiliate page chimed as my reward went in. I had a credit level rank up available from BuyMort.

Congratulations! You have been approved for an upgrade to your credit rating. After assessment, you are now considered a level 58 Fair Shopper. You now have access to 0% down financing and in-store credit! Seize the power to Buy More with BuyMort Financing!

It was stupid. It was lame. I hated it. It sounded like those credit cards that the online stores always tried to push on you. I was surprised that it didn’t include $50 off on your next purchase when using in-store credit.

But it was a good reward. One that I hoped I’d never ever have to use.

Chapter 5

Rayna jogged over to me at Axle and Jada’s door. “Boss, yarsps at the wall. Need to go!”

I nodded at her. “Go, I’ll join you soon. Grab weapons and shields on your way out, I want BlueCleave to have all the personal shields.”

She nodded at me, grasped my forearm, and turned to run back to the surface. I saw her stop and strip a shield belt off one of the delves I had killed.

With a quick sigh, I went into the room again. Dr. Miles rose from Axle’s side to greet me.

“Ah, Tyson. Excellent,” he began, before pausing to take in my new outfit. “I see you’ve survived your encounter with the delves. Nasty business, glad you came through it.”

I nodded dismissively, looking past him to Axle. “How is he, doc?”

“Your friend will be fine. He was tortured, that’s the worst of it. I suggest a priest of BuyMort if you have one around, they act as therapists for most affiliates,” Dr. Miles said.

I blinked, looking at the wounded Knowle on the floor. He looked weak, with his head leaned against Jada’s breasts. She was holding him close, stroking the fur on his head.

“Tell me about what happened,” I said to Dr. Miles.

He blinked in confusion but shrugged and began. “Well, she used a knife. Clean, no poisons or toxins, no malicious nanites, etc. Just a knife. But she cut him dozens of times. There’s evidence of some limited blunt force trauma, mostly around the head, so I assume she struck him as well, likely with the knife handle.”

The doctor was keeping his voice low, but I could see Jada’s ears twitching as he spoke, so I held up a hand and stopped him. “What can you do for him doc? He’s hurting.”

“That’s primarily a bad shock reaction, he will come out of it on his own.” Dr. Miles raised an eyebrow. “I could give him an advanced injection to aid with the recovery, but it’s quite expensive.”

“Do it,” I said immediately. “We’ll figure out your bill later, I just want him better.”

Dr. Miles nodded, immediately turning to his kit, and rummaging through its compartments. He produced a small ampule, uncovered its needle tip, and leaned down to whisper to Axle and Jada before injecting him in the side of the neck. He scanned the ampule with his phone, and pocketed the empty item.

Within a couple of seconds, Axle was blinking his eyes and looking around the room more. He sighed and pushed himself up, nuzzling Jada. The Knowle looked at me and nodded, a grim expression on his canid features.

“I’m sorry, Axle. This was my fault,” I said, before removing my helmet.

The Knowle sighed and shook his head. “Thank you for taking responsibility, but you did not attempt to extract information from me with a knife.”

I glanced at Taytrinn’s corpse and idly wondered how much dark elf bodies sold for.

Axle followed my gaze and shook his head again, standing with a small groan. Jada moved to help him stand, but he gently pushed her away. “I’m alright now, my love, don’t worry. The doctor does good work.”

Dr. Miles smiled and began cleaning up his kit. The interdimensional pod was still standing by, in a far corner of the darkened room, waiting to return the doctor and his bodyguards to wherever they had come from.

“I will be ready for work again soon,” Axle said. He clutched at one side and still breathed heavily, so I shook my head at him.

“Go home and rest, please. Yes, I need you, but I need you healed first,” I said.

One of the guards at the door jerked to attention, glaring out into the hallway with wide, alarmed eyes. “Boss!” he shouted.

Dr. Miles raised his head and glared at the bodyguard.

“Somethin’ coming!” The orc took a step back and primed his weapon.

I felt it before I saw it, but the sensation of electrical disturbance in the air was familiar enough to make my blood run cold. “Drop your weapons!” I shouted at the door guards.

Both glanced at me, but ignored my words, as Quadrum the beholder hovered into place outside the main door.

Axle and Jada both gasped, and their jaws dropped open.

“BEHOLD!” Quadrum announced. The beholder hovered forward, sparking as they phased through the wall and entered the room with us.

Eyestalks extended from the hardened rings around the beholder’s core and reached out to the stunned guards on either side of Quadrum. “SLEEP!” the beholder roared, and the eyestalks flashed.

Both guards fell as if boneless, landing in crumpled heaps. The beholder touched both men’s foreheads with another tentacle. “FORGET!” A small surge of brilliant crimson energy lanced through the vein structure on either man’s forehead.

Dr. Miles took a shaky breath and a few steps back, coming to a stop against the far wall. “That can’t be real, that’s not real, those aren’t real,” he chattered to himself, as he sank to his backside on the concrete.

Quadrum approached and reached an eyestalk toward the doctor. “SLEEP!” Dr. Miles slumped against the wall in a comfortable pose, chin resting on his chest.

Another tentacle touched his forehead. “FORGET!”

As soon as the beholder let go, the BuyMort pod zipped over, warped away all three of the sleeping people in a cascade of dazzling rainbow light, and then vanished in a fart of burnt ozone.

Quadrum turned toward me, and I braced myself.

“BEHOLD!” the beholder roared.

I nodded. “Hi Quadrum. Nice to see you. Did that thing you asked for.” I retracted my atomic breaker gauntlets, which caused a fine snow-shower of white dried blood flakes.

The great central eye fixated on me, as all of his other eyestalks focused on Axle. “BEHOLD! THE MIND I SEEK!”

I shrugged. “Yeah, no worries. Anytime.”

Axle blinked rapidly, shook his head, and stood up. “You must be Quadrum. I am honored to meet you, and the repository of knowledge that you represent.”

The central eye, collapsing star, or whatever it was in the center of Quadrum suddenly swiveled to fixate fully on Axle. Instead of roaring, the beholder reached a gentle tendril forward. “BE HEALED!”

Axle didn’t hesitate, he reached out a paw and made contact. With a flash of green light, his wounds healed, instantly sealing on themselves and erasing even a hint of scarring. The sutures Dr. Miles had just put into him dropped out, and I grimaced at the thought of the bill.

A crimson thread of light ran through his paw as they maintained contact, and he closed his eyes in concentration. “Yes, of course. I will explain in your absence,” the Knowle muttered.

The beholder blinked, a swirl of flame and energy cascading across the central eye. Then they released Axle, backed away into the hallway, and tore open a rift in space time. Quadrum glanced back at me, and at Axle, and vanished into the twinkling nebula behind the rift’s ragged edges.

Axle turned to face me and raised both paws, as the rift in the hallway sealed itself. “We will uncover great mysteries together, you and I. Suffice to say that in addition to my current work with your affiliate, I will be performing duties as Quadrum’s research assistant for the foreseeable future.” He pointed to Taytrinn’s body.

“Do not sell any delves, or any of their items. There is a great danger in slaughtering a house of delves, even what appears to have been a lesser house. We must carefully dispose of these remains and break down their goods for anonymous sale.” The Knowle waved a hand as he finished. “Refresh your MortBlock now, that will help me categorize everything.”

I blinked and nodded, fishing the device out of my bag. “Okay. Sounds good, you’re in charge of all that then. How are you feeling, Axle?” I pressed the button to scan the area, including everything on and below Silken Sands.

The Knowle sighed, chuckled, and turned away to embrace Jada again. “Grateful. To you both, thank you.” He leaned on Jada, and she smiled, nipping his lower jaw.

“You should get home and get some rest if you can. Or stay down here if you can find a clean room. It’s probably quieter, there’s yarsps up there already,” I said, turning to leave.

Axle shook his head. “No, I feel surprisingly energetic. Whatever Quadrum did for me, it healed my exhaustion as well as my wounds. I want to work, there is much to be done.”

I stopped at the doorway, gripping the concrete. “Alright, up to you. I haven’t checked on our morties for a while, but I assume after the doc they’re low. I kind of just carte-blanche that guy whenever he shows up.”

The Knowle took stock of the room he was in and nodded. “I will begin an assessment at once.”

“Okay. Jada?” I asked.

She had been staring at Axle but shook her head and blinked when she looked over at me. “I must stay, commune with my mate.”

I nodded. “When you guys are done, then.”

Both Knowles nodded at me, and I left.

I had some yarsps to deal with.

Chapter 6

I started running, concerned about the yarsp situation. The joy of running faster than I ever could before combined with the immediacy of a yarsp attack on the compound, and I forgot to collect Dro’erja and Shela.

By the time I remembered them, I was on my way down the final tunnel, and could hear gunfire. They were safer down there for the moment anyway.

As soon as I exited the basement hatch, I froze. Sporadic gunfire filled the air, coming from the northern portion of the wall, where our secondary gate system existed.

But it was Doofus that stopped me dead in my tracks.

He was standing in the shallow where Mr. Sada’s kitchen used to be, staring down at me with his head lowered and teeth bared. A deep, angry growl filled the air around me, and the massive dog took a slow, intentional step forward.

I sighed and turned to face my accuser. The normally sweet, gentle Malamute stalked toward me, growling with his eyes locked on mine.

“I’m sorry, Doof,” I said. My eyes lowered, unable to meet his.

He cocked his head and stopped. The same sensation of burning tears welled up behind my eyes before something tensed and strangled it again. Doofus sniffed the air in my direction and sat down.

The dog was no longer growling, but his ears were still pasted against his head. As if unsure, Doofus walked in a quick circle and began sniffing. He focused on the patch of land Mr. Sada’s house used to be on, and I saw him standing roughly where the stairs had been, sniffing the air.

He sniffed toward me again and sat down, staring directly at me.

Fun fact, dogs have a sense of smell anywhere between ten thousand and one hundred thousand times more powerful than ours, depending on the individual canine. We can’t even imagine what the world would be like if we had twice as strong a sense of smell as we currently have.

Doofus definitely understood that I had killed his former owner and sat challenging me for the first time I had ever known him.

I looked at him and sighed. Then I sat down on the dirt and took my helmet off. “Yes. I killed him, Doof. I’m sorry. I had to.”

His head cocked to the side, and he perked his ears.

“He was going to get us killed, Doof. I didn’t want to, and I’m not happy that I did it. But I didn’t have any choice,” I said to the dog. I suppressed the tears that wanted to come. There was no time, and I didn’t know if Mr. Sada deserved any tears shed over his passing anyway.

Doofus noticed though. He rose from the dirt and plodded over to me. I raised my arm when he nudged at it with his nose, and the giant malamute flopped into the desert sand at my side before he licked my right hand.

Then he zoned out for a few seconds, while I lightly petted his bristling new fur.

Doofus licked my hand again and got up, as a BuyMort pod slipped in over the wall and approached us. It warped in a package, and then hovered a short distance away and turned to wait.

The dog carefully grabbed a strip of flesh-tape with his teeth and pulled back on it to tear the gummy substance free. It looked like his package had tape designed to be pulled free by a dog.

Inside the box was a thin, metal, square frame. Doofus immediately plunged his head into it, and it activated. Tiny robotic arms folded out from the external portions of the frame and attached to Doofus’ collar. When the dog raised his head from the package, the frame came with him, a thin metal box around his head.

He had another item hanging from his mouth, and as I watched, the robotic frame reached an arm down to take it from him. The small item was a hexagonal grid, made from some kind of gold material. It attached to his collar, in one of the spaces left by his shield.

Once the frame was finished installing his new item, Doofus stepped away from the box and lowered his head. The tiny robotic arms let go, folding back into place, and the frame clattered harmlessly to the ground.

The BuyMort pod flew over and warped it away, then whistled its happy tune and fled over the wall, ignoring the sporadic gunfire.

Doofus panted happily, staring into open space before he snapped at the air and turned back to face me.

A range of holographic buttons appeared on the ground in front of me. It looked like a larger version of the tiny hexagonal grid on his collar, but elongated horizontally along the ground. The grid of buttons formed a semi-circle in front of Doofus, and the dog stared intently at them.

Then he reached forward and pressed one with his paw. A male flavored robotic voice with a British accent said, “Pack!”

Doofus growled and his eyes went unfocused again. He began nosing gently at the air in front of himself until he suddenly snapped at nothing and closed his interface.

He stepped on the button again. This time, an American accented male robotic voice said, “Pack!”

I couldn’t help but smile. Doofus was learning how to talk.

The Cow goes Moo. The Duck goes Quack. But what are they really saying? Introducing SPEAK! GOOD BOY by SkyeMan InterSpecies TeleCommunications. Specially fitted for the multiversal variants of canine species across all known space, SPEAK! features not just the means to enact speech — it also enables the ability to send text in real time.

SkyeMan InterSpecies TeleCommunications. The Sky is the Limit. 850,000 morties, 4.9 stars.

I walked over to him, and his array of holographic buttons on the ground vanished.

“Yeah, buddy. We’re pack. And pack comes first.” I crouched, and offered him my fist to bump.

The giant dog immediately lifted his own paw and pressed it into my fist. I leaned forward and rested my head against his shoulder.

Doofus licked the side of my ear, but then sighed and leaned back.

“Thank you Doofus,” I whispered. “Thank you for forgiving me.”

He woofed lightly and I straightened.

“Let's go help with the yarsps, buddy,” I said. He fell in at my side, and we jogged to the gate.

I looked back before we left and saw a major change to the landscape beyond the wall. Buried in deep shadow, behind the national forest in the distance towered a shape. It seemed like a great tree, but extended impossibly high, into the clouds.

With a shake of my head, I ran to keep up with Doofus.

The gate at the far end of the long mud-crete hallway banged and rattled, and the telltale grunt of dying yarsps filled the air. We picked up our speed, running to join in the battle.

Doofus beat me up the steps to a rudimentary guardhouse at the top of the gate wall corner. It was between all three walls and was being used as the coordination center for the hobbs effort against the yarsps.

And boy did we have yarsps, I saw as I reached the top of the steps. I gripped the mud-crete wall and stared out over the usually peaceful Arizona desert. All the way up the forest line, it crawled with activity, yarsps filtering out of the forest and drifting toward us in groups of various sizes.

A smaller group of a dozen had just been dealt with, and the hobbs were all reloading or staring in the distance to determine which group would approach next. Rayna was on her phone at my side, grunting and muttering under her breath.

I stared at the poorly lit desert, the gray pre-dawn light illuminating more and more of our situation as it slowly grew. The towering structure in the distance glinted, great lengths of metal shining in the pre-dawn light, reflecting on our infested front porch.

The desert outside camp was crawling. Hundreds of the land wasps roamed around out there. Maybe thousands, the treeline showed signs of constant movement in the gloom.

The hobbs at the walls had been using suppressed weapons fire and maintaining strict silence to avoid attracting the entire horde, which grew by the moment. Eventually we were in for a hell of a sustained fight, and the group returning from Sundew Valley was about to make everything worse.

“Sundew Valley crew not back. On the way now,” she grunted. Her lips were a tight, gray line as she scanned the road south with her rifle scope. The hobb commander turned to a rifleman at her side. “Get to the armory, bring up everything. Need the flamer fast though, get that first.”

The hobb nodded, saluted her with a fist to his chest, set his own weapon down, and hurriedly descended the stairs.

“What’s the plan here, Rayna?” I asked, keeping my voice down.

She crouched at my side, bending to pet Doofus. The dog reached his head around to give her pebbly hand a cursory lick but went back to staring at the gathering yarps. A small growl issued from his throat.

The hobb took a deep breath, then looked me in the eyes. “We secure the road in front of the gate, allow access at speed, get primary gate closed, and fight the overwhelming rush that follow.”

She pointed back at the strange hallway of mud-crete and blacktop. “This may save us. Yarsps almost certainly break down front gate. Sundew group can exit to Sada’s lot, secure secondary gate, and join the fight.”

The hobb bit her lower lip while she stared at the far gate. “If that gate hold, we have real chance.”

“Anybody down on that road aside from me is dead,” I whispered.

She nodded. “I ask for volunteers. Hobbs are brave. We will secure the road. Make sure Tollya and the others make it home.”

I shook my head and retrieved my helmet from my bag. As I pulled it over my head, I said, “No time, here they come.”

Rayna’s head whipped back to the road, and she saw the glint of headlights. “Gates open!” she hissed. Hobbs scrambled to work, as a large group of yarsps to our direct north noticed the campground.

“No reason for anyone else to get hurt,” I said, gripping Rayna by the shoulder. “Keep Doofus up here, and do not let anyone else go down there with me. I can do this.”

She blinked, and I turned away to drop off the wall. I landed with a crunch in the gravel beside the road, reaching back and hauling my highwater blaster into my hands.

Chapter 7

Yarsps thundered toward me, and the gate at my back swung open. The gate beyond that swung open too, and the nearby roar of engines filled my helmet's sensors. I took a few deep breaths, racked a laser slug into my shotgun, and turned to face the incoming bugs.

A brilliant beam of crimson erupted from my barrel, sweeping across a row of yarsps and searing off their limbs in a series of tiny flame bursts. Homogeneous grunts filled the air, and I racked another slug in.

The ground began to vibrate beneath my feet. I dealt with the rest of the incoming yarsps at a distance, raking them with another concentrated beam of weaponized light. They lay grunting and burning after the laser hit them.

I hurriedly fished two replacement shells from my bag, slipping them into the weapon’s magazine as I turned back to clear the road. Dozens of dead yarsps were piled in various places on the road, blocking the way in.

With a grunt, I heaved against the nearest pile, and got it moving. The yarsps had all tangled together as they died, and chitin scraped against blacktop as the primary bulk of dead carnivorous bugs slid out of the way. I hurriedly grabbed and flung the last few as the first vehicle from Sundew Valley tore up the road behind me.

I cleared the road with seconds to spare, and the pickup truck roared past, chirping their brakes and de-accelerating inside the first gate. Another large truck from the farm roared past, and the first of the yarsps in pursuit came into sight.

A cloud of dust grew in the north, directly over the road. Thousands of yarsps thundered across the desert toward us, trailing behind the end of our convoy. I took another deep breath and turned back to deal with our own rogue groups in the desert above the wall.

Handfuls of them had wandered over to investigate different portions of the wall, and hobbs chased them along the edges, firing down with suppressed weapons. The grunt of yarsps on either side of me filled the air, and I grit my teeth as they thundered closer.

More vehicles swept past, and the horde of insects in the distance loomed. I watched the line of headlights on the road closely, burning another group of aggressive alien wasps that had come too close.

I saw a line of other interested yarsps behind them, and fired another beam of roaring weaponized light. The flames grew, the grunts became louder, and the dull roar of incoming monsters roared in my ears.

My heart thundering in my ears, I calmly reloaded my weapon. The laser slugs were gone part way through, so I pocketed a handful of MIRV shells from the bag. It was about to get loud anyway. The growing crowd to the side of the road had noticed the oncoming rush chasing the convoy, and decided to join in. They were all charging toward me, and the campground.

The final vehicle, an old early 1900’s flatbed containing wildly jiggling fruit trees rushed past me and I sprinted for the gate. As it swung shut behind me, I turned and blasted into the oncoming rush with my remaining laser slugs. I couldn’t see it make any difference, but I took a few seconds to reload my empty weapon before I began jogging down the long hallway.

Yarsps grunted as they slammed into the gate behind me, in a series of metal bangs. The gate dented, bowed in, and screamed as its hinges began to tear. The yarsps flooded up and over the metal gate, as a great press of them from the back arrived. The gate popped and sprang open, flattening instantly as it spun off its hinges.

I turned and fired into the oncoming horde of insects. A MIRV shell sparkled in the dawn's newborn colors, erupting over the sea of chitin and claws. I pumped and fired, blindly stepping backward, and shooting a carpet bomb attack at the incoming threat.

It worked, for a brief moment. The initial rush was stopped, but as the smoke cleared, I saw the primary, seemingly endless bulk of them still rushing forward. I had a few shells left in my pocket, and hurriedly reloaded the shotgun, as the stampede of snapping yarsps flooded over their dead.

I was engulfed. A yarsp hit me, followed by dozens more. I was lifted off my feet, even as sharp mandibles and claws began segmenting me. They crawled over me, around me, and even beneath me as I was carried back to the secondary gate on the sheer tide of their movement.

The yarsps had an almost uncanny ability to use one another’s bodies for mobility, shoving off from thoraxes and hooking limbs together to push forward. Through the flood of painkillers and pure shock of the attack, I felt the metal gate at my back and realized where we were.

My legs were useless, cut to ribbons. I couldn’t even feel them below the hips anymore, there was so much damage. I worried for my crystalline colonies, and the progress they had made enhancing my strength.

Thankfully my suit repaired the limbs back to full strength, replacing my old muscle tissue with synthetic tissue that matched what it repaired at an atomic level. I lost crystalline creatures with each attack, but they existed in the majority of my muscle system and would quickly repopulate.

Before my arms could be cut apart as well, I reached for a weapon.

Falcor hung up on the scabbard on the way out again, and I yanked it free. The blade immediately got tangled in my tendrils, and a bizarre thing happened.

It bounced from each thin whip-arm of metal with an explosion of sparks, until it was torn from my hand and sent spinning out into the crowd of gathered yarsps. The blade cut a swath through the yarsps at my front, vanishing into the growing horde.

The crowd of hostile insects surged forward again, and I was slammed into by several mandibles and grasping claws at the same time. Stingers plunged into the scraps of my legs over and over.

My suit deployed a swarm of tendrils from each limb, but the charge was dropping fast, and I couldn’t move. The yarsps cut, bit, slashed, and stung my body faster than the suit could repair it. Within seconds my torso was in ribbons, and my useless arms and legs merely flopped, critical tendons severed repeatedly, in several places.

My parts all clung to the suit, and functionality was returned anytime a new flesh-foam connection was made, but instantly another mandible or claw would tear into it. Only my head was protected, shielded from the onslaught by my helmet.

I couldn’t even breathe, I just watched as they washed over the top of me, covering my sight. Covering everything.

Then the ground shook, as something heavy landed nearby. Above the scuttling, biting, and clawing sounds, another began to rise. Grunting. The yarsps were being killed by something, and dozens of them were grunting as they fell.

The yarsps directly on top of me crunched, died, and were pulled away. Grey dawn poured in, and I saw Phyllis in her mech, standing over my ruined body, holding three crushed yarsps in one oversized metal hand.

Her other arm spun into the fusion cannon and she pointed it at the oncoming horde of yarsps. “Good morning, dearie,” she said. Her voice was metallic, mechanically enhanced and emanating from inside the faceplate on her mech.

It still felt good to hear. My body began to repair as Phyllis cleared an area around me. The fusion cannon was in a different formation than I was used to, and it roared a stiff jet of hot blue flame instead of the bright orange fireballs it had launched before.

Upgrades, I guessed, as my right leg finally got put back together. I wiggled my toes, a dazed smile on my lips. Phyllis continued fighting the yarsps, who were helpless against her.

Their stingers broke on her armor, their mandibles slid off, and their claws left nothing but faint scratches in the metal. The insects crawled all over her, but she calmly ignored them, or crushed them one at a time with her free hand, while focusing on what her plasma torch was doing.

It crisped any yarsps that got too close, turning them into blackened husks, legs curled in on themselves. The weapon cut through the aggressive insects without slowing, and Phyllis swung it around with abandon.

I summoned my atomic breaker gauntlets and lashed out, moving to engage the areas near the gate not already covered by Phyllis and her mech. A small group of yarsps that broke through her assault blasted away in an explosion of blue light when I struck the lead wasp. They were charging so closely together that the kinetic energy waves hit entire groups instead of individuals.

I couldn’t activate my power blow ability at all, too much damage had occurred to my crystal colonies. Still, I was confident some of them had survived, and the gloves did fine work anyway.

With the gauntlet’s breaker ability, the bugs were blown apart. Their bodies shattered against the mud-crete walls but were instantly replaced by more. They scuttled over each other’s bodies, single mindedly chasing the vehicles and trying to consume any meat in their path.

They parted around Phyllis’ legs like a river to get to me. In spite of how much damage she was handing out to the horde, there were just too many. I took a deep breath and prepared to be consumed again.

Rayna opened up with the flame-thrower in the near distance, and reinforcements on the walls above me shouted as they moved into position. Suppressed rifle fire was everywhere, and the yarsps fell en masse, each grunting in similar voices.

Even Doofus was happily barking from the wall, wagging his tail at the activity as he smashed yarsps against the ground and walls with his weaponised voice.

I stood in front of the gate, repair tendrils swirling around my body as I used my metal encased hands to smash the land wasps. Endless claws, mandibles, and stingers found my flesh, ripping my new silks to rags and keeping the suit working endlessly to repair me enough to stay standing.

Phyllis shot an arm out to stabilize her mech against the mud-crete walls, and I started slipping on the carapaces at my feet. There was so much ichor, so many dead yarsps. When I fell backwards and slammed into the gate, I altered my fall into a sitting position and just leaned there, breathing heavily and looking around.

The walls above me were covered in people.

Not just hobbs, I saw countless human faces up there, weapons tucked into shoulders or held in white-knuckled hands. Lee, Suzanne, and the rest of their people joined in, grim faces looking down from above.

Weapons fire roared into the hallway, and the charge of the yarsp horde was finally broken. The gate to the compound had been held.

I sank to my backside, ichor covered arms resting on my knees. When the gate behind me cracked open, I fell backwards. Rough hands grabbed me under the arms, and I felt my pain and drug addled mind sinking inward as I was dragged away.

The last thing I heard before passing out was Phyllis’ mech-enhanced voice saying, “oh the big baby. He’ll be fine.”

Chapter 8

When I awoke a few minutes later, it was to the ear-splitting sound of the sky tearing open. A massive donut-shaped ship was landing in Prescott. It followed the towering structure from the clouds, wrapping around it and using it as a cable to descend.

As I scrambled to my feet, I realized I was on top of the wall, and pinwheeled an arm out for support, grasping the mud-crete.

The yarsps were still swarming the walls, with thousands more spilling across the open desert toward us. The insects not directly engaged with our walls hesitated, as a massive blocky ship descended to the north. It nearly blocked out the sky on that side of the campground as it landed, shaking the ground beneath our feet.

As one, the ground wasps all turned toward the north and scuttled away, drawn to the massive ship. The attack on our compound ended, with a crowd of confused carnivorous insects scuttling away across the desert, back the way they had come.

“Ah, that makes sense,” Axle said from behind me. I whirled to face him, and he pointed at the towering structure.

“The Dearth Conglomerate built an orbital delivery elevator, which explains why they want full control of this region badly enough to go after an affiliate of this size,” the Knowle said. Jada was behind him, watching her mate closely as he spoke. “Normally they allow natural threats like the yarsps to deal with small time locals.”

Axle’s gentle smile was back in place, and his earrings wobbled as he gestured. “There’ll be even more yarsps tomorrow, though, so that policy might still work. I wonder what they could be eating, to grow so rapidly.”

“Meat,” I said. “A lot of it.”

Axle chuckled and clapped me on the shoulder, offering me a new pair of silk pants and leather sandals from belowground. “Indeed! Which, we now have a plentiful supply of ourselves. I’m ravenous! Shall we go claim some breakfast?”

I happily accepted the pants and footwear, slipping them on over my already present scraps. “Feel free if you want, I need a minute.” The starfish suit’s painkiller was still working its way out of my system, and the beauty of dawn over the Arizona desert was giving everything an enhanced sheen.

Axle nodded and leaned against the nearby wall. As I looked around, I realized more and more just how close the yarsp attack had been.

Hobbs were spread out on the wall, near weapon caches. Most of the weaponry had been tossed down to the ground, empty. I saw slag thrower rifles mixed in with conventional earth armaments, as well as all the plasma rifles our hobbs valued so much. A handful of the Sundew Valley refugees were injured, and a treatment area had been set up on the ground below us.

As I rested, the fog cleared from my mind. I shook my head and stood up, taking a deep breath.

I looked around at all the people I needed to talk to and clapped the Knowle on one shoulder. “Hey, Axle, I have a lot of bases to touch right now. Can you wait for me down below please? We need to talk about the campground.”

He nodded and started moving toward a nearby ladder. “Of course, boss! I’m already working on some plans for the new people. Medical would be perfect to set up their grow houses in!”

“Oh, no way, I was thinking the same thing! I’ll be down there soon, I gotta grab Lee,” I said, motioning behind me.

Axle slid down the ladder, but Jada walked toward me. I pulled off my helmet and tucked it into my bag and nodded at her.

Jada nodded back, then reached her white-encrusted paw toward me. “Thank you, boss. I doubted you before, doubted this affiliate.”

When I grabbed her forearm, she clamped down on mine in return and met my eyes. “I don’t have doubts anymore.”

The Knowle warrior tried to release my hand, but I held on and pointed at the northern forest, where the last of the yarsp horde was vanishing into the tree line.

“Hey, Jada. In your experience, is that a normal amount of yarsps?” I released her paw.

She shook her head, staring into the forest. “No. Massively overpopulated. There must be a major source of meat nearby, to produce so many, so quickly. Largest hive I’ve ever encountered, by a huge margin.”

“Okay, that’s what I thought. We can’t get any normal existential threats. Ours have to be special,” I muttered to myself. To the Knowle, I just shook my head and said, “thank you, Jada.”

“Course, boss,” she said. “See you later for the raid.”

“Ah yes, the raid,” I said with a sigh. “Can’t wait.”

Lee was approaching, with Suzanne in tow. I left Jada’s side and walked down the wall toward them.

“Hell of a thing you did, Tyson,” Lee said. Suzanna merely clasped her hands together and mouthed the words ‘thank you’ at me.

I nodded to her, turned to Lee, and said, “it was nothing.”

Lee cocked his head and frowned at me. “I’ve seen what those critters do to people they overwhelm. Surviving that, and then fighting them with your bare hands is not nothing.”

“I can survive a lot of punishment, Lee. That means I end up where I’m needed, that’s all.” I smiled politely at him, hoping he would get the hint.

His mustaches twitched. “Fair enough. You have my thanks, and the thanks of my people.” The older man leaned over the inner barricade, looking out over the assorted vehicles that were parked below. “Our people.”

Roughly a dozen vehicles, most of them pickup trucks, were parked in various areas around the lot. Each and every vehicle in the lot was crammed full of plants, soil, and growing apparatus. Expensive lights, pumps, and piping were packed in alongside temporary pots made from wicker baskets, and harvested crops.

“We’ve got enough down there to feed the place for a few days if we include plenty of that yarsp meat. A handful of plants that may re-pot. Saved only a few trees. Hurt to burn those, I tell you.” His hands were scorched. Soot covered his arms up to the elbow and was smeared on his face.

“Any seed saved?” I asked.

“Oh plenty. Our seed vault is in the main truck there, got loads of everything. Won’t do us any good any time soon, but if we can get a grow up and running, down the road it’ll be healthy and diverse.” The old man took a deep breath and looked at the dawn colors. “I don’t believe I’ve stayed up all night for over a decade.”

“Invigorating, aint it?” I asked, a wry smile at the corner of my mouth.

Lee chuckled, before he turned to me with a scowl. “Not the word I would use.”

I pointed at Axle, now with Jada again. He was scouring the vehicles, peering inside windows and pushing aside leafy plants to see what had been brought from the neighboring affiliate. Jada was following him, glancing nervously at the gathered people.

“You see those big hyena lookin’ folk?” I asked Lee.

He frowned and nodded. “Been meaning to ask about them.”

“Well, the male is my operations manager. He’s amazing, very knowledgeable. They’re called ‘Knowles’, by the way. Way smarter than me. If you need something, he’s the guy to talk to about it. We’ll all be working to get you guys set up soon, but for now we have tents and plenty of room either above or below ground.”

I paused to take a breath, scanning the other side of the road. Rayna was talking to a group of hobbs, with Tollya at her side. The sight made me grateful she had survived the expedition to Sundew Valley. It would make me feel a lot better once all our security hobbs had personal shields, I was getting attached to them.

After a quick search through my shoulder bag, I produced my psychic phone. When the screen filled with the bald, expressionless face, I hesitated.

“Thank you, for your help,” I said.

“I provide such aid to all in the greater BuyMort system,” he shot back, his lips tighter than usual. “As per my contract.”

For him, helping us meant betraying BuyMort. If I wasn’t careful, I would reveal that betrayal.

After a few seconds of thinking, I opened my mouth again. His ears perked, and one eyebrow raised slightly.

“I need to talk,” I said, allowing my full intention to push to the front of my mind. Instead of the face of anyone I wanted to call, I thought hard about the deity’s own features for a few seconds.

I replaced his face with Rayna’s, and continued, “to Rayna.” The image of her face in my mind translated onto the screen, and the psychic entity in my phone nodded with his eyes narrowed, as he turned to the side and became a tunnel.

Rayna was on the other side, staring at me. I saw her look up, then back down to her phone. “We got trouble, boss,” she said.

“I figured. Stop calling me boss. What’s the story?” I said.

“Ammunition,” she replied. “Everybody calls you boss. Deal with it.”

I blinked and sighed. Made sense. “How much do we have left?”

“No plasma. No explosives. No more five-five-six.” She rattled off a few things and paused. “Tyson, all we have left is sidearms, and four slag rifles with full magazines. Twenty melter-shots each. Not enough for raid.”

I waved a hand to slow her down. “I get it. The folks from Sundew brought some arms and ammunition, I’ll ask about a loan. We also still have Phyllis and Doof, they don’t need ammo, as far as I can tell. Hey, have the ravens made it back?”

Rayna nodded, her lip curling in a sneer. “Yeah, last night. No check in.”

I winced and shook my head. “They’re wild birds, not martially-trained scouts. We’ll work on it.” I added a conversation with Darclau to my morning list and hung up the phone with Rayna.

As he faded from my screen, the bald face fixated on me, making strong eye contact.

An ally that powerful was good, but I didn’t dare tell anyone about it. Not until I could figure out some way to communicate with the creature, under BuyMort’s radar.

I found a ladder and slid down to the ground, walking toward Axle. He was conversing with Lee, smiling, and gesturing. Lee was standing stock still, his hands clasped behind his back, listening intently. As I approached, Axle delivered the finish of his statement

Lee grimaced politely and nodded. He looked uncomfortable talking to a seven-foot-tall humanoid hyena.

Axle turned to me as I approached. “We have work to do, from the look on your face, boss.”

“Yeah, a lot of it,” I said, guiding him away from the group to talk. “Listen, I need a bunch of stuff handled right now, are you up to it?”

“Raring to go, boss. Nothing like a good puzzle to keep the mind active. How are we going to afford getting a grow like this up and running?” he asked. “We’re down to just under a hundred thousand morties.”

“Lee will have some funding, he’ll have to do most of the heavy lifting on that front. We just don’t have the morties.” I said.

Lee nodded from the side, and turned to speak in a low voice with Suzanne. I left them to it and focused on my operations manager. Lee steered Suzanne away from me and the Knowles, with an arm across her shoulders.

“We need to expand the Sleem farm, that will help, while the spider ranch recovers.” Axle offered, one paw raised.

“Speaking of, I need you to work on the ranch again. We got a delves swamp spinner now, does that mean anything to you?” I asked.

His eyes lifted and a smile spread on his features. “That is very good news. Swamp spinners can be highly profitable, if cared for correctly. They are quite rare now, however. How did this acquisition occur?”

“One of the delves gave up your position. Didn’t seem to like the others very much, I’m about to head down and talk to him, he’s in the secret tunnel behind the Sleem farm.” I said. “The spider is his.”

“I’ll join you. There’s some basic wall lighting for the underground I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, would be cheap and easy to get in place, especially if I get a hobb work crew for any length of time today.” Axle said.

“I’ll talk to Rayna about it,” I said with a nod. The idea of Axle having a work crew honestly got me a little excited. I wanted Silken Sands to become something special, and Axle was definitely the Knowle for the job.

He raised a finger on one paw, as if remembering something. “I must go make our next sale of Sleem anyway, would you like to join me below? We can discuss the situation in residential, as well as discuss what should be done with Lee’s people and products.”

“That sounds great, let’s go.” I said.

As we moved to the hatch, I glanced back at the open gate and piles of dead yarsps. A flash of memory tore through me, of being trapped against the gates, helpless while they tore me apart over and over again.

I shook my head and resolved to talk to Molls about it, before following Axle back underground.

Chapter 9

Axle jabbered the entire way, almost excitedly. The conversation ranged from his plans for more Sleem farming equipment, to the items left behind by the delves that would be safe to sell. I mostly grunted as he rambled, but it was an informative conversation nonetheless.

The loose silk articles that adorned the walls in residential we were free to sell under the affiliate for full prices. Most of it would turn up as generic scrap silk in the sales logs, once Axle was done with modifying the items. Any affiliate purchasing it would almost certainly be processing it into something else, which would neatly destroy any evidence. The odds of someone recognizing anything to do with delves was extraordinarily low.

The great, black, glowing pearls were another story. Those would be recognized if sold as is, so we had two options. We could break them down into chips, which sold for a handsome amount and were common enough to slip most notice. It was unlikely to get back to the great dark elf houses, but not impossible. Axle suggested splitting up the sales over longer periods of time, to avoid suspicion.

Or we could roll them into the Sleem pit. The pearls emitted trace radiation and would not dissolve in Sleem envelopment.

I balked. “There’s an awful lot of stuff around here that’s radioactive now, is this place even safe to live in anymore?”

Axle laughed, his barking voice echoing off the walls of the Sleem farm hangar. “Of course, of course. Most forms of life in the BuyMort system are quite well evolved to exist around one another’s radiation. Besides that, Cube is drawing most of the excess radiation in the area and safely converting it. You yourself are even mildly radioactive, from being part of this version of Earth.”

“I am?” It was genuinely hard to know how serious to take Axle sometimes.

“Indeed. The last Earth absorbed by BuyMort had only advanced to the level of basic mass industrialization. Around the early eighteen hundreds, by your timeline. They had not learned to split the atom before BuyMort absorbed them, so they entered the greater system with dramatically less radiation in their bodies and planet than Nu-Earth humans,” the Knowle said. He shook his head.

“It is quite sad, really. Much of the early scientific reports show dramatically less to offer the market, in regard to natural resources and biodiversity.” He trailed off as we approached the Sleem freezer. “I wonder what else is different about your particular Earth.”

“I hear we’re aggressive,” I replied.

Axle turned and stared at his own reflection in my helmet before he burst out laughing. “The House of Shireen might agree, though I believe it a safe assumption to say that they thought themselves the aggressors in this exchange.”

“Yeah, everyone always does. Wonder when that’ll change.” I said.

Axle nodded. “Soon, I have no doubt.” He waved at the air, manipulating his BuyMort account, then he closed it and launched into more detail about the situation in residential.

The bodies were the biggest, most dangerous part of our clean-up task. We absolutely could not, under any circumstances, sell the bodies of delves on any account. That kind of sales information was a direct link to the great houses, and from what Axle told me, those would not hesitate to expend a great amount of resources upholding the concept of revenge.

Apparently it was important in dark elf culture.

On the plus side, they would be easy to get rid of, as the Sleem would happily eat any corpse we provided them, or any chunk of organic material at all. It would be an excellent way to feed our growing Sleem pool, and encourage faster breeding.

Axle went on a whole tangent about how he intended to hook our eventual sewer lines up to feed the Sleem. Short of a matter recycler, Axle assured me it was the best mortie ratio we could acquire from the fledgling village’s sewage asset.

A BuyMort ad popped up, showing me the mostly convoluted escheresque machine I’d ever seen in my life.

It grinds them, it binds them, it makes everything exactly what you want it to be. Presenting the newest line of matter recyclers from Wahbasah Infinity, the goto place for changing water into wine (or anything else for that matter!)

A cartoon animation played before me showed atoms changing from hydrogen to helium, helium to carbon, a whole litany of changes. It looked brilliant — all except for the billion-mortie price tag dancing underneath.

It made a perverse sense. We had to manage biological waste anyway unless individuals simply continued selling their own waste. Axle told me that was always possible, but typically a comfortable toilet allowed us to discreetly gather their waste for our own purposes, and most would happily oblige, so long as they had to contribute nothing but the waste.

I gave him the go-ahead on the pearls, the bodies, and his sewer pipe Sleem feeder idea. It would take an expensive, name brand Sleem-proof pipe end, just for safety's sake, but aside from that the cost to construct it would be quite low.

There had been the question of weapons and personal shields, but I quickly resolved the issue. It would have been difficult to sell the shields, as those items were quite expensive, and generally denoted an affiliate of great wealth. Selling them could attract unwanted attention.

Rayna’s troops had already collected most of the weapons. Axle agreed with me that they should have whatever was left stashed below ground as well.

I told Axle that BlueCleave would be using the shields, and he grimaced. “That may attract unwanted attention too. Likely much slower though. Perhaps the Sleem farm here can be up and running to provide cover for the expense by the time anyone of import notices.”

Not many small affiliates had such extravagant security measures, but a tremendous income source like what our Sleem farm could become would provide more than enough cover.

After discussing the situation at length, we decided to bundle the various silk rugs, bedding, tapestries, and clothing into storage, and sell it piecemeal, along with our own silk product in order to avoid suspicion. Axle assured me part of the protocol would be to cut the various objects down into sizes and configurations that would assure it was categorized as scrap in BuyMort.

Scrap was the best place to hide your illicit sales, if you didn’t want prying eyes on your affiliate. I trusted that Axle knew what he was talking about on that specific BuyMort detail.

The bodies would go to the Sleem, as quickly as they could be gathered. The same would happen to the giant black pearls the delves had used to get intoxicated.

Axle assured me that he could arrange a visit to Quadrum's chamber, so we could simply open the door the entity had installed there and drop everything inside.

There was a small handful of wood, silver, gold, and platinum objects the delves had left behind as well, but those would have to be dealt with piecemeal. There were even small gems in some of them. Some of the luxury goods could be sold as-is, some would have to be altered first, and some would need to be smelted down to basic components before sale could be attempted.

It was complicated, and would take time, but Axle estimated a tidy profit for the affiliate of between sixty and ninety million morties for everything the Delves had left us.

We had walked while Axle went on about his survey of the delves’ remains but stopped at the Sleem farm to finish. Once he had my consent and affiliate permissions to deal with the delves belongings, we switched tracks to the Sleem farm.

A single freezer unit could attract and freeze just under a thousand morties worth of Sleem product per hour if the pipes were totally full. Axle explained that full pipes meant Sleem were being produced faster than they were being frozen, and that it was financially safe to invest in the farm further.

And our pipes were full. There was a small device that read negative space in the piping system, and it told us our entire system was crammed full of Sleem. Axle pointed at the device and explained what we needed to do in order to turn the Sleem farm into a major source of income.

Unfortunately, in order to pay for his desired upgrades, it would cost us almost a million morties worth of brand new equipment. The more freezers we could support, the faster the farm would make us money, so those became the immediate priority. Each freezer cost roughly ten thousand morties, but the more of them we had running, the faster they would pay for themselves.

I had to transfer all of my personal morties into the affiliate account to get Axle even a handful more freezers, as I had spent almost all our morties on Dr. Miles.

It turned out I could have just waited for Quadrum to come and heal Axle, but that was crying over spilt milk as I had no way to know that was going to happen. The beholder’s motivations were arcane, and difficult to predict.

The important element about morties was what you could do with them anyway, not how many you could hoard. That much was smart shopper 101, as far as I could tell.

At the end of our enervating conversation, Axle got all the lights he had wanted, along with another ten freezers.  He assured me our power generation through Cube was more than enough to handle that much, as well as power all the homes we had already built.

I left the Knowle happily opening BuyMort boxes, while the pod that had delivered our new inventory zipped back out the way it had come. Axle mentioned installing a pod portal in the ceiling, to make it easier and faster to sell our Sleem product when it was ready.

We were also going to need to complete the elevator shaft in residential, dig it out to the surface and make the area more accessible. If people were going to be living down there, we would need to make sure they had easy access to the surface.

Rayna’s hobbs had murmured about perhaps gaining ownership over the area, before the delves had shown up. While the hobbs were excellent at living with other species, they did prefer to have their own space if possible.

Residential had room for at least three hundred people, according to the scans from my MortBlock. If the hobbs didn’t mind being neighbors with a beholder, I was happy to give Rayna and BlueCleave the area for themselves.

Before that could be taken care of, I had to go welcome our affiliate’s newest member.

Chapter 10

I opened the door from the hangar and started walking down the long, concrete hallway. As I approached the far end, a loud scuttling from behind me stopped me dead in my tracks. Shela was behind me.

Her limbs scuffed and whisked against the concrete walls, as the huge, hairy tarantula charged me at full speed. I tensed, my eyes wide, but the spider lifted its bulk onto the wall, and then ceiling as she ran past me into the room at the end of the hall.

Dro’erja was there, sitting down with his narrow back against the far wall. Shela huddled into the corner behind him,

“Welcome back, Tyson Dawes. I grew concerned in your absence,” the dark elf crooned.

“For me? Or for your own well-being?” I asked.

“For Shela, of course. She requires regular feeding, and immersion in water at least once per day,” he said, with a casual wave of his hand. “I would enjoy eating as well, but do not expect such indulgence yet.”

“Yet,” I repeated. “Funny qualifier. We have breakfast being prepared upstairs right now, I’ll be happy to get you some. You could likely even join in, it’s a hobb barbeque, if it’s anything like yesterday.”

Dro’erja blinked rapidly, looking between me and Shela. “We would be welcomed?”

“Perhaps not, but I’m in charge. If I tell BlueCleave not to hurt you, they won’t hurt you. The hobbs here are honorable.” I said.

His eyes raised at my last word. “Odd. That trait is thought of as a weakness in my people, yet you mention it as praise.”

“And I described a situation where their honor directly benefits you. If you don’t want to eat breakfast with the hobbs, I can bring you something. You like yarsp steaks? I’m betting we’re going to have a lot of yarsp steak to go around.”

I sighed at the end, leaning against the wall. I wasn’t quite comfortable enough around the giant spider to sit down, but I was getting more and more used to her presence.

Dro’erja shook his head slowly, lowering his eyes. “I apologize, I meant no offense. It is simply strange to be among new people. All I have known is the delves way of life, and the House of None. We do not affiliate with anyone.”

I scowled. “Wait, affiliate as in associate? Or officially, like in BuyMort?”

“Within BuyMort, of course. I am affiliating myself with you, as I affiliated myself with Lady Shireen, and her family,” he said. “I may simply not affiliate officially, by Great House ruling. No member of the House of None may be part of any BuyMort affiliation. The other houses will kill any who disobey this covenant.”

“Which means that anyone not directly affiliated with a great house becomes a slave for them,” I said.

“In all but name, yes,” Dro’erja said.

I stared at him for a long moment. When I shoved off the wall, Shela whimpered. Dro’erja reached a hand back to her and emitted a low whistle. The great spider scuttled closer to him, reaching a limb out to gently touch his own.

“Here’s the deal, Dro’erja. If you don’t do anything to hurt my affiliate, or my people, you can be part of our life here,” I raised a hand when he began to object, cutting him off. “Without officially affiliating with us. You can if you ever want to, but obviously I won’t force you to in order to simply live and work here.”

The dark elf nodded in understanding, lowering his hand. “I understand. I will produce Shela’s silk for your affiliate, the same I did for Lady Shireens.”

My eyes narrowed. “I don’t think you do, Dro.” The dark elf scowled at me from his position on the floor. “You’re free. If you make any morties because of my facility or affiliate, I would think it reasonable to provide me a slice, but I’m not going to control you the way Taytrinn did.”

“Free?” he instantly asked.

“Yeah, free. You can live here and take care of Shela here if you want to, without any expectations from me aside from basic civil conduct.” I said.

“But you said you needed a portion if I were to make any morties? I don’t understand.” Dro’erja said.

“Shela isn’t mine, she’s yours. If you make morties because I’m giving her a good, safe home, I have a legitimate claim to some of those morties. Say half? But I don’t own you. I won’t be limiting your water, or denying you food and clothing, the way she clearly did,” I said.

When I paused to take a breath, I saw him staring at me.

“You can live and work here if you don’t hurt anyone and make yourself useful in some way. That’s all.”

Dro’erja slowly rose and straightened his rail-thin back with a series of loud pops. He approached slowly and extended a slender hand to me. “I accept your terms with gratitude. Half of the morties from her silk is a fortune, from my perspective.”

“That’s good news. There’s a lot of new arrivals right now, but we should be able to get you a place to stay easily enough. How would you feel about sharing a spider ranch with one of our other affiliate members?”

“I am amenable, and this is your affiliate. I will fit in where you desire me.” The elf made one of his overly formal bows again.

I shook my head. “No, that’s not how it works here. What kind of living conditions do you need?”

Dro’erja stared at his own feet for a long moment before answering. “This room would suffice if you had nothing else. Shela has more room than she is used to and has found a bolt hole she seems to enjoy, near the door at the far end.”

That explained why she had been behind me when I approached. The elevated tunnel I never bothered to explore. A thought occurred to me, and I pulled up my Fumble-Bee operating system.

The bees were all long dead, of course. We’d lost the charge to the hive when Quadrum had arrived and hadn’t repaired it since. There was just so much to do every day. So many fires to put out.

Thankfully, the mapping footage was accessible. I moved the map with my fingers, until it clearly showed the tunnel. It extended in the distance a decent amount and raised to the surface somewhere under the campground.

Next I pulled up video footage. The Fumble-Bees went at their own pace while mapping, so I had to pause the video and scroll back to see certain details, but I became convinced it was a hidden back-up escape tunnel. There were even old, rusted ladder rungs at the far end of the tunnel.

The hatch must have been buried, and then forgotten about. I played with the map to see where the hidden tunnel emerged and smiled when I saw the new walled-in spider ranch directly above it.

I saved the map footage to show Axle and turned back to Dro’erja.

“Good news. Shela’s new bolt hole leads directly to our spider ranch. We’ll have to do some minor construction before it’s something you can use, but that won’t take long.” I looked around the emptied room, replete with its ancient blood-stains.

“I think you should use this room, as well as something we’ll build above ground for you. I’ll coordinate with my head of security and my operations manager to be sure, but I dislike the idea of keeping Shela out in the open, if she’s as endangered as you suggest,” I said.

He immediately bowed again, flourishing with one hand. “My deepest thanks. This change in her life will bring great profit to your affiliate.”

“Right, I hope so. Let me go talk to my people, we’ll get you comfortable,” I said, before turning to leave.

Dro’erja simply nodded and sat back down against the wall, as I walked out to the hangar.

When I arrived, Axle was happily at work, getting each new freezer’s disassembled parts into position. He had found chalk from somewhere, possibly his own kit, and scrawled markers on the concrete for each new refrigeration unit, as well as planned accessories.

On the other side of the hangar sat a massive coil of something, wrapped in super thin, stretchy flesh-wrap. As I gazed at it, the company's ad entered my space, giving me some insight into what it might be.

You have THE POWER - Now think of the POSSIBILITIES! Introducing Coria, the revolutionary biological light production organism. Flexible and self-charging, Coria can even produce mobile light fluid for expeditions and travel! 25000 morties, 4.1 stars.

It was filled with something bulbous on thick cabling, but the flesh-wrap prevented me from seeing specifics. So this was his much talked about lighting.

“Axle!” I said, stepping out of the secret door.

The Knowle looked up from his current project, a small smile on his features. His ears perked.

“I’ve got another spider rancher in this tunnel, the only survivor of the delves. Could you get him set up with Drusk, if Drusk’s okay with that? I’ve also gotta talk to you about the construction on the spider ranch.” He nodded as I approached, and I got to work helping him with the refrigerators.

As we worked, we discussed what to do with the entire affiliate. Specifically, more upgrades to the campground.

Axle assured me it would be no trouble at all to upgrade things further, using goblin construction again. He told me we likely needed to hire them to upgrade the housing situation already anyway, so bundling in another project would save us some morties.

With the rate we were gathering affiliate members and interdimensional refugees, we were going to need even more housing. He assured me it would be easier to get the plumbing, sewage, and electricity fully installed at the same time as some capacity upgrades.

The underground residential area needed very little work aside from cleanup. We expected the hobbs to renovate and make the place their own upon moving in, so Axle focused on getting the elevator up and running again.

For the immediate future, he told me his plans were extremely simple. We would dig out the top of it, which Axle said rose out of the ground toward the rear of the campground’s top-side residential area.

Once that was done, we would be installing a hand crank elevator platform that could be operated from below or above. The elevator would consist of a metal floor, with secure wiring from each corner to meet the main elevator cable. With a few simple pulleys and cranks, we could have a working elevator by the end of the day.

Without warning, an ad screamed into my ear. What a hunk of junk! It blared, the words typing themselves across my vision. A picture of the most dangerous and janky-looking elevator to ever exist appeared dead center. Are you really going to do-it-yourself . . . and let your people die?

I growled. This was getting super fucking insulting. It would not look like that.

Why not visit Elevators Plus? The Multiversal One-Stop number one is elevator design and safety!

I dismissed it. Maybe later, with a different affiliate. Not these assholes. I regained my train of thought.

When we finished getting the refrigeration units in place, we moved on to the giant coil. Axle cut the flesh-wrap with a claw, and it slapped to the floor in a disgusting heap.

The coil turned out to store a form of organic lighting. Even though the product name was Coria, Axle insisted on calling it ‘cave-kelp,’ and sung its praises while we worked. Wrapped around a central core of thick, gummy flesh in the shape of a thread bobbin, were several strands of blue lichen. Bulbs along the strands of lichen emitted a faint glow in the gloom of the hangar.

The light was nowhere near enough to see with, but Axle assured me the system would work once all in place. As we unwound massive amounts of kelp together, he explained that the kelp was a form of specialized moss that grew underground in specific environments. The moss required both sunlight, and geothermal heat from deep below the ground.

So the lichen grew great lengths of itself, to stretch as far as it needed to acquire both sunlight and the heat from deep below ground. The plant started out in sunlight, spending its primary growth cycle reaching the required depths. Once it had heat, it could grow bulbs that slowly filled with a light producing liquid over time.

Axle told me we could easily mimic the heat required with a simple device that converts electricity from Cube into heat. It would wrap around the end of the kelp thick root strands, tricking the plant into producing light. The affiliate could even regularly sell the bioluminescent fluid, once enough of it had been grown.

We would also need a place to put the primary sunlight patch, Axle informed me that the lichen formed into a thick, low mat of tightly woven plant fibers to gather sunlight and needed open space to thrive. It was stored in the hollow core of the giant flesh-thimble and looked eerily similar to artificial turf.

Before we began working with the lights more directly, we took a break and called Rayna. She was busy with the cleanup and breakfast prep, directing troops of hobbs and human volunteers to gather yarsp bodies. I could see a few of the new pickup trucks in the background, leaving with full beds already, trailing dripping ichor.

“Hey Rayna, I’m glad to see more humans helping out,” I started.

She shrugged. “Everybody useful in some way. I remind them of that, they help more. One who not helping though, got to talk to you about her.”

“Right now?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Not important. What you need?”

I grimaced, not that she could see it. “Sorry to ask, but we could use a hobb work crew in the basement. The Sleem farm needs expansion, and Axle needs help getting it all in place.”

“Yeah, that no problem,” she said. Tollya leaned in and waved with a smile, and I immediately waved back. She grinned and walked away, happily chewing on a piece of raw yarsp meat.

“Tyson, we need talk,” Rayna said.

I nodded. “It sounds important, what’s up?”

The hobb hesitated. “Well. BlueCleave signed on for cut of spider ranch profits.”

I nodded again, cutting her off with a raised hand. “And there haven’t been any since Mr. Sada crushed the place. Did you guys get your cut from that, at least?”

Rayna nodded once, a simple lift and lower of her chin. “Yeah, boss. That part of what I mean. I could use some of that for ammo, even with prices this bad. Can afford. But wanted to talk about it first.”

“Don’t waste the morties. We need more hobbs and you’re going to need to recruit them,” I said. I turned to Axle and included him in the frame of the call.

“I want to meet with everyone soon, we need to renegotiate the affiliate funding. BlueCleave deserves a cut of everything we do, since they run security for us entirely.”

Axle nodded. “Wise. These hobbs are numerous and competent. Hobb forces can be very powerful if enough of them unite under one affiliate banner.”

I turned to him. “I wanted to include you and Jada in that negotiation if you guys are now considering this a permanent situation. Percentages would be more appropriate for your affiliate, based on your position and importance.”

“I’m ready for a full merger, being straightforward with you. I’ll need to talk to Jada about that, though an offer of percentage is likely to be appealing. Thank you, Tyson. I look forward to our partnership.” Axle beamed, offering me his paw as he finished.

I grasped it and nodded, then turned back to Rayna. “Oh, can you have your hobbs bring us some breakfast, please? It’s a crazy work day already.”

Axles eyes lit up at that, and Rayna nodded. “Yeah boss, no problem.” She hung up.

A short while later, while Axle and I were still moving the great lengths of lichen upstairs to the central hub, our hobb work crew arrived with breakfast.

The Knowle and I happily took a break, and I removed my helmet to eat in the faint glow of the cave-kelp bulbs. It was unsettling, to be in a darkened room full of aliens, eating hash browns and bok choy, while a giant hyena-man across from me tore into his wasp meat with fervor.

Unsettling. But in a lot of ways, it all finally was starting to feel like home.

Chapter 11

I was becoming vegetarian under BuyMort, but not by choice. The hobbs had brought a hearty amount of the yarsp steaks from the morning’s breakfast feast, clearly intending them for lunch as well. The way Axle tore into them, slobbering and moaning with pleasure finally got to me.

Rayna’s words about my revulsion toward eating bugs being all in my head rang clearly, and I asked for a small yarsp steak. One of the hobbs who knew me laughed and happily shared one of his extras.

It was a small chunk of seared white flesh, and when he plopped it on my empty plate, my nostrils filled with the smell of fresh cooked bacon. It wasn’t exactly right, but it was so close it couldn’t be compared to any other smell.

The meat even looked appetizing, like fresh caught, pan cooked fish. I lifted it gently with my fingers, sniffing closer. A droplet of grease fell back to the plate, and everything in my brain screamed bacon from the close-up smell. Slightly wrong bacon.

I took a bite. A nibble really, just a little flake to taste. The flavor was simple, but strong and familiar. Space bacon. It wasn’t exactly like bacon, to be fair, that was just the first thing that popped in my head. The flavor was much more akin to a salt pork steak, with the full robust smoke of the sear burnt in perfectly.

My head filled with thoughts of the angry insects charging me at the gate, tearing parts out of me and swallowing them in front of my eyes, and I grimaced, taking a bigger bite and chewing. Dammit, these violent bugs were delicious.

With a shake of my head, I had to admit that I had been wrong about bugs. My stomach still wasn’t thrilled when I swallowed the flakey treat, but it didn’t come back up, and I genuinely wanted more.

The entire steak went down the hatch, and I nodded at the hobb who had given it to me. He grinned wide and gave me a double thumbs up.

Axle and I finished our meal and the whole crew got to work, after I slipped away to provide Dro’erja some food. He gratefully accepted, and shared a portion of the yarsp meat I gave him with Shela before I left.

Stringing our new lights was easier than I had expected. If you held the cave-kelp just right to the wall, it would attach itself. Most of our work went by quickly, and by the time we were finished, we had lighting in the entirety of the medical wing.

Each strand of lichen clung to a corner of the ceiling, running down both sides of the halls from the entrance of the facility all the way through medical and down the hallway to residential. I was happy to leave the soft lighting that the delves had left behind in residential. However it was charged, Axle would figure it out.

Not like we could sell that stuff anyway. May as well use it.

The only area left in the dark was our Sleem farm, which Axle and the work crew went to get started as I left to go meet with Lee. By the time I stepped back out into the sunshine, it was eight AM.

The lot was mostly empty, with a few loaded vehicles still in place. Most of the plants and growing gear had been unloaded and staked down beneath tarps to protect them from too much direct sunlight. Lee and Suzanne were seated on a pile of overturned pots, eating breakfast silently.

“Hi guys,” I said as I approached. I stopped and took my helmet off, tucking it into my satchel. “Glad you made it.”

Lee nodded, without looking up at me.

Suzanne squinted in the morning light, shielding her eyes. “Thanks to you and yours, Tyson. I sure am glad we met.”

Lee blinked, and his mustache twitched as he sniffed and looked up at me finally. “Yes, thank you for your charity.”

I chuckled and pulled out a stack of pots for myself to sit on. “Yeah, about that.”

Lee looked up at me, the early stages of a scowl forming on his forehead.

“It’s not charity. We’ve got a space set up for you to get some stuff growing, underground.”

I looked around again.

“We can also rally some volunteers to get all this down there, get it protected.”

Lee sighed, rubbing at one knee with a hand. “That’s appreciated. Any place for us to sleep?”

I grimaced. “Yeah, that part should be available by nightfall, but there’s a bunch of construction about to happen all day to make it possible. I suggest a nap down below, it’s much cooler down there. Just, don’t go in the residential section just yet please. It’s still a mess from this morning, and my ops manager is going to be working down there a lot today.”

They both nodded in understanding.

“There’s some tents, air mattresses, and basic bedding in the main storage barn, I can get some of those brought over if you want,” I offered.

Lee straightened and took in a long breath. “No, thank you, Tyson, I believe we shall be alright on our own. We still have a considerable stash of morties, and I want to set up an office down below anyway, for the grow.”

Suzanne clapped her hands. “Oh that reminds me.” She began playing with the air in front of her, before poking repeatedly at the upper right corner. When she finished what she was doing, she turned back to me and smiled.

I glanced at my affiliate screen to see a transfer of two million morties from Sundew Valley, our newest associated affiliate. “Oh, wow! Thank you!” I said, happily swiping half of it into Axle’s build fund. That would buy us a lot of goblin construction.

“Least we can do, you taking us in,” Lee grumbled.

I shook my head. “Wasn’t an option to leave you out there to die, Lee. For more reasons than one.”

His mustache raised in a smile. “Ah yep, I get your meaning.”

“The grow you set up in our basement is going to be critical for this place, we have so many mouths to feed already. But I was hoping you would sit in on a quick meeting with our scouts before you go get some rest, would you be up for that?” I asked.

Lee nodded and pressed hard on one knee as he stood. “If it's right now, I’ll be happy to attend.”

I stood and indicated the gate with one hand. “Right this way.”

Lee set a slower pace, which helped me take in the carnage of our hallway. The hobbs had been hard at work already, using smaller pickup trucks to haul away the dead yarsps.

I noticed one of the vehicles was being hand pushed by a team of hobbs and realized we would need to acquire fuel soon as well as everything else on my list of very important things we couldn’t do without.

The yarsps had been piled and crushed into corners, clearing a path in the center for free movement. There were hundreds of them in the hallway alone, and I could see beyond the destroyed gate that there was even more outside.

An area had been cleared around the gate, and a large group of hobbs was working on repairing it. Part of the metal slab had been hung already, and I saw welding tools at work in large gray hands.

As we walked, the sun gleamed against something shiny. The blade of Falcor, my supposedly magic sword, was jutting part way out of the mud-crete wall, beneath a mostly cleared away pile of dead yarsps.

I hauled it out of the wall and inspected the blade. Portions of it were different. Dull.

The sword looked like plain dull iron across part of the edge in bands, and blurred into its magic level of sharpness across the rest of it. The areas affected seemed mostly close to the handle, but dull patches were visible along the entire length of the blade. I shook my head and fought the weapon back into its sheath, struggling with each portion of visibly dull iron.

A flurry of ads swarmed my vision. I sighed. Of course my trusty friend BuyMort was right here to help, living alongside me in my noggin.

The tiny boxes jostled each other for position and I chose the first one I could.

A video popped up. An orc with a receding hairline wearing a business suit faced me.

Are you struggling to make money in the new BuyMort Multiverse? I've got three words for you. Advanced Affiliate Marketing.

Oh fuck off I thought, throwing away the ad and selecting another one.

This one was all texts and pictures, unlike the rest of the lot. Those video and audio ones would probably get me killed someday.

When the stars were blue and giant, Xurthak was there. From before the first black hole, at the inception of life itself, Xurthak was there.

Xurthak has seen all. Xurthak has lived all. Xurthak, the all-wise, prophet of his people, keeper of the knowledge.

And now, Xurthak is using his uncountable eons of existence to help you!

Need advice? Ask Xurthak! Need something forged? Ask Xurthak! Repair, assembly, disassembly, the meaning of life . . . nothing is unknown to Xurthak, for he has seen all.

Check out Xurthak's Affiliate page for more details!

I gaped. About the only honest response anybody could have to this ad. Especially since it was backed by pictures of a being that looked almost exactly like Cthulhu. Really just missing an eye or two.

Now was not the time to be looking at another new hire, unfortunately. But still, it was something else to ask Axle about later. I’d hate to lose the weapon, but I still had the highwater blaster, the plasma falchion, and my fists. And let's face it. That ad was fire! Fucking Xurthak. I'd have to ask about him as well.

We entered the main campground through a carefully controlled gate and headed toward the raven’s nest. The triangular plot of land had been built up on again, with the addition of long canes covered in berry vines. The birds had filled every inch of unused space inside their fencing with the vines, and plump, vibrant colored berries grew on each.

Yellow berries were most prominent, fat, and bulbous on their vines. But bright greens and purples accompanied the more standard colors of raspberries and blackberries. Several of the canes near the back supported webbing that crawled with unusual looking insects.

They scuttled along the tall poles and buzzed between them with short, fat wings that barely covered their bulbous red bodies. In several places I could see the insects eating from mechanical feeders on the canes, and they extruded webbing from their hind ends as they crawled or flew.

As I watched, one of the ravens emerged from their miniature structure and hopped along the tops of the canes, until arriving near me and snapping up two of the plump, red flies. It wasn’t Darclau, but I had seen this raven before, and the bird seemed to be in a good mood.

The raven hung upside down, grasping the tops of the canes with their feet as they snapped at more of the insects. The red flies had the good sense to flee the bird’s beak, but they were so numerous that another four were devoured before I turned back to Lee.

Lee was staring, hands behind his back. “This is our scout?”

“Ahh, yeah. One of em, I think,” I said.

“And how do we get the information from them?” Lee asked.

I bit my lower lip, nodding as I stared at the playful raven. The bird had decided it was full enough for the time being and hopped from cane-top to cane-top, scaring the insects and cackling as they scrambled between nests in fluttering clouds.

“Good question. There’s this translator we can call. Dunno how much she costs, Darclau paid for her last time. I cannot for the life of me find a good, affordable universal translation device, gotta ask Axle about that,” I said.

For the next few minutes, I dug around in my bag for her card. There was no way I was going to remember the bird lady’s name, let alone what her face looked like. When I tried, I just got a mildly sexy, scary dinosaur lady, in a black feather theme.

Thankfully, I still had it, tucked away in the bottom corner of the bag. I pulled the wrinkled item out and read it over.

“Sheena Rapatore, multidimensional translator. Fluent in most forms of avian communication.”

I pulled up my psychic phone and gave her a call. The screen filled with her face, and she blinked at me.

“How is Darclau?” Sheena immediately asked.

“I haven’t seen him this morning, but I was hoping to have you come for a visit, help me talk to him a little bit,” I offered.

The woman’s beak clicked, and her feathers ruffled. “Of course.” She began swiping at a device in her lap before she looked back up to me. “I have sent you my page. Choose your services, and I’ll be there via pod in no time.”

I nodded and pulled up my BuyMort screens again. This time, the services were listed, and affordable. She would only charge ten thousand morties an hour for the translation services, which included her bodyguard escort.

The transport charge was enormous, however. Four-hundred-and seventy three thousand morties for BuyMort to beam her to me.

“Woah! That’s expensive,” I exclaimed. When she narrowed her eyes and cocked her head sideways at me, I shook my head. “Oh, not you, the transport fee. It’s ridiculous.”

“Ah, yes. That is because my ship has left the orbit of your planet. My services are not exactly in demand on Nu-Earth, most of the intelligent avian species have already been killed,” she said, with a sad shrug. “We must seek morties for our services elsewhere and are en-route to the Sol gate now.”

“They’ve been killed? What do you mean?” I asked.

“Your ravens are some of the last corvids on Nu-Earth, Tyson. Most of them immediately went to war with their neighboring humans, and the new arrivals, and met with predictable fates,” she said, clucking her tongue as she finished.

“It is strange. Corvids fared so much better in BuyMort the last time an Earth was absorbed. Of course, there were so many more of them at that time.”

I scowled and nodded. “I’m sorry. I’ll protect my flock if I can, but they fly free in the area.”

Sheena thrust her neck forward and back quickly, chattering her beak. Then she sighed. “Bright lives can be more meaningful than long lives.”

“Oh that reminds me!” I said, snapping my fingers. “I made suet cake.”

Sheena cocked her head sideways and peered at me with one eye in the phone, before she pulled away and shrugged. “I will see you soon.”

I nodded, disconnected my phone, and paid the exorbitant fee for her to come translate for us.

Everything was coming together.

Chapter 12

While we waited for her pod to arrive, I ran to the house to grab the suet cake. Molls had been replaced by the young woman with a sketch pad I had seen around the campground. The girl appeared to be about fifteen or sixteen.

When I arrived in the doorway, she jumped to her feet and clapped her pad closed. She had been in one of the wicker chairs Molls had got for me, but quickly moved to the door as if to leave.

“Woah, hang on,” I said.

She stopped and turned, clutching her pad to her chest with both arms. Her lips were a tight white line.

I winced. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. You the new babysitter? Took over for Molls?”

She nodded. “They said I had to do something to help.”

“Oh, yeah sorry. That’s kind of my rule. Getting taken a little out of context, I think. I’ll talk to the hobbs,” I offered.

She nodded once, a tight movement of her chin. I could see that her jaw was still clenched.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Melanie Capris,” she said. “Or just Mel.”

“Mel, I’m sorry to do this to you, but I actually do still need a babysitter for Cube. Are you okay with staying a little longer? I just have this quick meeting with some birds.”

I paused there, narrowing my eyes in thought.

“Shouldn’t be more than an hour, I’d be surprised if it took that long. Would you mind staying until I’m done? Please?”

The girl’s arms loosened somewhat, and she nodded. “Yeah, that’s okay. Hey, what is Cube?”

I sighed and chuckled. “I honestly don’t know. Right now, he’s our power supply. He’s also a baby, I’m pretty sure.” I turned to leave, as the girl sat back down, staring at Cube. “He does eat meat, so he might bite. Just be careful if you try to touch him.”

“What do I do if he gets hungry?” she asked.

“Oh he’ll yell if he wants something, don’t worry about missing that,” I said with a laugh. “Just call for a hobb, they’ll bring what you need.”

When I glanced back, the girl was staring at Cube nervously. I sighed and turned around, walking back the few steps to the doorway.

“Look, I don’t think he’s dangerous, not at this point. He might grow into something dangerous, but right now he’s just a baby. I doubt he’ll hurt you, unless it's by accident, which is why I warned you about touching him. Are you okay with watching him for me?” I asked, waiting for her answer.

She stared at the little metal box on his stand for a long moment before she turned back and nodded at me, opening her sketch pad.

“Awesome, thank you Mel, this really helps me out,” I said, as I turned to jog away.

When I glanced back at the exit of my driveway, she was contentedly sketching Cube, glancing between him and her sketch pad.

I took a deep breath and turned back to meet with Darclau and Sheena. The translator's pod was arriving as I did, and the unkindness of ravens was all out on their perches to watch.

Darclau was there, perched happily at the front of his gang, on the comfortable section of fencing he’d had installed. I lifted the pan of suet cake as I walked up to him and smiled.

The bird immediately cocked his head to one side and peered into the dish, before retracting his neck and cackling happily. The other ravens all hopped over to stare at the dish and I set it down for them, perching the platter between the fence and their newly installed food-canes.

As the birds happily pigged out on pumpkin seeds in yarsp fat, I watched Sheena and four bodyguards step out of a dazzling beam of rainbow light. They were all the same species, as far as I could tell, the same advanced corvids that had taken the campground once before.

The birdmen held slag rifles and moved to secure Darclau’s little fiefdom, one standing in place at each wall, with the final bodyguard following Sheena directly.

She nodded at me, her long beak bobbing as she stepped forward. Her bodyguards all wore the same type of black armor I kept seeing on mercenaries and soldiers in BuyMort, but Sheena herself wore another business suit.

Her long, double jointed legs were partially covered by a pleated black skirt, complemented by a matching suit jacket, and a white blouse. She spread her wings, and her feathers extended through a slit in the underside of her sleeves. Sheena crooned at Darclau, and the raven looked up from his suet cake feast to squawk in happiness.

Darclau hopped over the cane-tops to Sheena and thrust out his beak to nuzzle against her claw. She blinked and sighed at him, before turning to me.

“It is good to see you again, Tyson Dawes of Silken Sands. I had hoped to say my goodbyes to Darclau and his friends, but with my affiliate’s sudden departure from this system, I feared it would not happen,” she said, lightly stroking Darclau’s head.

The smaller bird leaned into the affection with closed eyes, his beak hanging slightly open.

Sheena chuckled in the back of her throat and turned to me. “What would you like translated?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” I started. “We need his report, I sent him scouting yesterday.”

The bird woman nodded in understanding. She started warbling, clicking, burbling, and ‘gwaw’ing at Darclau, and soon the raven was doing it back. At one point, Darclau hopped back inside his small structure and returned wearing his odd little techy-looking helmet. It had a bank of small lights on the front, but he fiddled with a setting and turned them off, before removing the helmet with a claw and handing it over to Sheena.

Sheena played with the tiny helmet for a moment, and a red light projection emanated from it, bathing Darclau’s house in lines of red light. The bird hopped over to the helmet and helped Sheena manipulate it, changing the red lines on the house into a different array.

The projection meant nothing to my eyes, but Sheena seemed to suddenly recognize something in it, burbling at Darclau, who cawed happily, before going back to his rapid pace jabbering at the woman. They talked at length, while I waited, and Lee yawned into one hand.

After a little while of their back and forth, Sheena produced a note-pad from one of her pockets and began drawing on it while talking to the raven. Darclau often looked at the picture when she offered it to him, and they went back and forth over particulars.

It was odd, watching an entire conversation unfold without any ability to understand what was being said. So much of their communication was through body language. They bobbed and flapped their arms at each other, and their faces were filled with strange expressions during the exchange.

Then, just as quickly as it had started, she stroked Darclau’s head one more time and turned away from him to face me. Sheen handed over her sketchpad, and I blinked in amazement at what she had produced.

A small, but incredibly detailed picture was on the undersized sheet of paper. It featured labels in exquisite handwriting, and featured both the militia headquarters, and the orbital elevator in the background. The picture resembled a birds-eye view of the area surrounding Prescott, but with our critical areas of operation focused upon and enlarged.

“This is . . . I, uh,” I started, bringing the picture closer to my face in an attempt to see more detail.

“Oh I apologize. I forget that human eyes are so different,” Sheena said, rummaging through her suit jacket’s pockets again. She produced a magnifying glass.

Lee grumbled something under his breath as we both gathered close to see. With Sheena’s help, we got the general message.

The Arms Keepers militia, Sheena explained, was camped out at a mine on the very outskirts of Prescott valley. This was not news, I had known that part already. However, Darclau got us not only a location, but a thorough description of the area.

It might just be too much TV as a kid, but anytime I hear the word ‘mine,’ I think of a Wild West style mine. Replete with old rusty minecarts and wooden support beams. This mine was nothing like that.

Primarily, the mine was a series of metal sided buildings tucked into a massive dirt lot surrounded by heavy fencing, with large mechanical ore feeder ramps extending back and forth across the property. A great dig scar in the land behind the facility was visible, but not focused on in the drawing. There were towers across the property as well, and several underground entrances, notable by the heavy metal double doors across each.

Darclau turned out to be a good scout, not just for the detailed information he was able to gather about the surroundings, but because he had paid close attention to everything. As Sheena was giving us all of the information Darclau had given her, she said something that stuck out.

“He also said they seemed hungry, he watched a fight break out amongst children, over an item of food,” Sheena said offhandedly.

Lee’s eyes finally opened wide, and he looked to me for my reaction. I smiled and nodded at him.

“Tell me more about that, please,” I said.

Sheena blinked at me a few times, ruffled her feathers, and nodded. “Darclau waited and watched, sitting on a nearby fence. He says the people there paid him no attention, as long as he stayed far enough away and stayed quiet.”

She took a breath and swallowed, looking at the raven. He had rejoined his friends, and they were making a greasy, fatty mess out of the suet cake I made them.

“He said a small fight broke out among a group of children. One of them had run from an underground entrance, followed by several others. They knocked down the runner, before beating and kicking them while trying to pry something out of their hands. Before long, an adult arrived and broke up the fighting, sending all the children back underground,” she said.

“Darclau says the fight was over a piece of food, a candy bar. He knows them because they had colorful wrappers and he liked to eat the chocolate remains from them before BuyMort.” Sheena finished and glanced between me and Lee, while I was treated to an assortment candy ads and images.

NEW - from the best-selling confectionaries in the Multiverse . . . Soul Chocolate.

The image of a human male coughing appeared before me, a brightly incandescent cloud streaming from out his mouth and into the sky.

30 seconds. The average human brain experiences powerful aphrodisiacal dream recall for 30 seconds during and after a known death event. And we here at Destinyzz capture that phenomenon and bring it to you. Without the Death and Dismemberment!

A giggling cherub swung through the sky, capturing the apparent soul into a sack and flying off to an obvious factory churning wispy-black smoke into the skies.

Each bite a memory. Each bar a lifetime. Soul Chocolate. The candy that gives you your life back. Literally. 250 morties ea. 4.7 stars.

Behind the ad, Lee shrugged, and his mustache twitched as he prepared to speak. “Well, hunger in their camp changes things.”

I dismissed the ad, then nodded. “It does. They’ve got kids there, which means families. We can’t just roll over them and take their weapons, knowing that. I’m supposed to be trying to help people like them.”

Lee frowned and shrugged. “I was referencing their hunger situation, but yeah sure.”

With another nod to Lee, I turned back to Sheena. “This is very helpful Sheena, thank you.”

“Wait, I’m not done,” she said, pointing to the notepad.

In the background of her drawing loomed the space elevator. It consisted of a series of interwoven cables, but light and air could be seen through the gaps.

I glanced at it in the distance, shielding my eyes from the bright morning light. From my distance, I couldn’t see the smaller details, it just looked like a giant, towering cable of metal.

The tip of Sheena’s claw was pointing at the base of the tower, where an alien building stood. It was constructed from what looked like black plastic blocks that interlocked, and hundreds of great panes of glass.

“This is where the green man went, whatever that means. Darclau says it’s a very bad place, and he doesn’t like talking about what happened there. I suspect they shot at him, and very nearly killed him. He’s very scared of this place and tells you not to go there. Says they’ll kill you if you do,” Sheena said, her expression full of serious gloom.

I glanced at Darclau, and smiled at how happy he looked, with several small gobs of fat stuck to his beak. All the other ravens were still pigging out, but he looked full, sitting on the fence and squinting contentedly in the morning sunlight. I smiled and chuckled at the bird, and Sheena clicked her tongue.

She prodded me with a fingertip in the shoulder. “That bird loves you, Tyson Dawes. He thinks of you as a sort of big brother.”

“I won’t send him anywhere that I know he’ll be in harm’s way, Sheena. I promise you that; he’s part of my affiliate,” I said. “I want him here and safe, especially after hearing what you said about them. About how rare they’ve become.”

She held my gaze for a long moment, before nodding her long beak.

“I believe you mean that, and I hope he and you make it. A fight with The Dearth Conglomerate is not something I would wish on anyone,” she said.

I smirked at her. “Yeah, but neither is a fight with me, so we’ll see how it all shakes out.”

Sheena shook her head sadly. “Thank you, Tyson, for allowing me to say goodbye. Darclau is a special person.” She hesitated, but then looked me in the eye and continued, “and so are you. I hope to see you both again someday.”

I nodded and extended my hand to her.

Darclau suddenly burbled something from the fence. Sheena opened her beak and stared at him, but he repeated it and she shrugged. As I held my hand extended toward her, Sheena pecked the center of my palm.

The gathered ravens burst into caws and ‘gwa’ sounds, fluttering to find a nearby place on the fence and enjoy their leader’s joke. I sighed and glared at Darclau, but he was on his back in the leather perch, kicking his feet up and raucously cawing at the sky.

Sheena reached for my hand again and took it in her own claws. She gently shook my hand, being careful not to cut me with the tips of her talons. “I apologize, he told me you like it when we peck your hands.”

I laughed. “You know, I kind of do. It’s a joke he plays on me, makes me feel like his big brother.”

Sheena the bird woman blinked in surprise but nodded and turned away. As she was leaving, she whistled, and her bodyguards fell in beside her. The pod had remained and laid out a projection of where to stand. She turned back and stared at me for a long moment before she walked into the beam.

Chapter 13

Lee took a deep breath and sighed. “Quite the place you got here, Tyson.”

“Yeah. It really is,” I said with a smile. “Hey, Lee, why don’t you go get some rest? You’ve got a ton of work to do when you’re up to it.”

He frowned. “I thought you wanted to talk about the raid on the militia?”

I shrugged. “Not gonna be a raid. Not anymore. Now that I know they’re hungry, it’s gonna be a trade instead.”

“You think that’ll work?” he asked, a skeptical bend to one eyebrow. “Was going to suggest it myself, especially as the offer will get their people talking, if it’s loud enough.”

“Maybe. It probably won’t work, given who’s in charge over there, and how much they value their guns, but we’ll be ready to defend ourselves if so,” I said, finishing my statement by pointing at Phyllis.

She was lounging on the deck beside her mech’s dry-dock station, smoking a joint and drinking tea, as usual. The nonagenarian didn’t notice our attention, and happily slurped from her tea-cup, one massive mechanical hand daintily clutching the porcelain.

Lee nodded, frowning, and narrowing his eyes as he looked toward Phyllis. “Aye, I gather you’ll be alright.” He clapped his hands together and rubbed them. “Well, that was an easy work-day for me. I’ll be underground if you need me.”

I shook his hand before he left, nodding. “Thank you Lee. Sorry to drag you out for this, the solution turned out to be obvious.”

“If you have the time, a drawn out trade campaign for food could work wonders, even if they resist at first,” he said. Then he shrugged. “But if we had time as a resource, I’d be looking at setting our new grow up before trying to get what’s left of our old one up and running.”

“I’m sorry, Lee. I hope it’s safer here, but I honestly don’t know anymore. The kind of enemies we have arrayed against us . . .” I let the sentence hang.

Lee nodded, scowling at the dirt in front of him. “Yeah we’re all in the shit now, aren’t we?”

I nodded, slowly. “We’ll come out of it. Somehow.”

His eyebrows raised and his mustache swung as he smiled. “Somehow. Agreed.” Lee raised a hand as he walked away, back toward the gate. “See you around.”

I watched him go until the gate closed behind him, thinking about what he said. If we had the time, we might be able to reach some of the people in the Arms Keepers’ compound.

Some of the last people from my Earth left in existence.

My original plan had been a little murder-happy, I have to admit. Zach and his blundering assassination attempts had gotten under my skin. As had his bad attitude. I had no expectation that they would greet me peacefully, but if I could organize a trade between our camps, it might open the door to diplomacy.

Trade is a wonderful way to make peace out of war. I understood Molls’ strange religion a little better as I thought about it. Everybody needs stuff, after all. Equal exchange of value among sapients.

I chuckled and turned back to my place. It was time to rescue poor Melanie from her Cube babysitting responsibilities.

When I approached, she did the same thing she had done the first time; got up and left as quickly as possible.

I shouted a ‘thank you’ after her, but otherwise ignored the girl. A teenage artist in the shopocalypse and I wouldn’t have much to say to each other anyway. I just made a mental note to talk to Rayna about taking it easy on the kids when putting together a volunteer workforce.

The hobbs were running things well, for the most part. Melanie’s complaint about their treatment had been the first one I had heard, and it shook me a little bit. I was confident that the hobbs were honorable and competent. But they had a culture that made even the American work ethic of the early 21rst century look lazy by comparison, and I could easily see how that might clash with some of our guests.

Nobody was going to be able to use our camp to simply lay low and avoid the chaos and death all around us. I at least needed some of them to clean up the yarsp bodies after I was done creating them, but I also didn’t want to make life worse for anyone. Or exploit them for labor, the way Mr. Sada had done with me.

I sighed, fished the bull’s head ring out of my bag, and slipped it back on my hand. If nothing else, the ring would remind me to be purposeful and intentional when summoning my breaker gauntlets.

If I wasn’t careful, I’d cut my own finger off.

Seemed like a good way to remind myself to take it easy, and not resort to violence too quickly.

Cube seemed content, rumbling away on his little pedestal. I got close to inspect him, to see if anything had changed, but the little box turned its mouth toward me and stopped purring, so I backed off.

I frowned and made a note to bring the strange creature something to eat. Maybe that would encourage him to like me better.

While I was considering a nap before the inevitable trip to Prescott Valley, Molls exited her car and caught my attention. The rear door opened, and she backed out, long tail extending and unfurling from the floor of the car. I smiled at her as she straightened and looked over to my house.

A reciprocal smile spread on her features, and she turned a little pink. Molls ducked back in the car to grab a small bag and slung it over her shoulder before closing the car door. She was dressed in her full priest robes, with the heater turned up. I could see the glowing coils at the back of her raised hood.

Still, it flattered her. I blinked hard as I caught myself staring, assessing, and appreciating the various parts of her body that the robes accentuated or emphasized. She seemed to also notice, and her shade of pink darkened for a few seconds, before it began to flush purple.

Molls smiled openly at me as she approached, golden scales glittering in the morning sun. “Good morning, Tyson!” she said. “I trust your work went well earlier this morning?”

I smiled back at her and shrugged. “Yeah, nobody died.” I grimaced and looked away. “Except Mr. Sada.”

Molls reached a slow, gentle hand out to me, her scales a deep purple color. “You’ve saved all our lives many times over already, Tyson.”

I looked up at her beautiful face and took her hand in my own. Her scales were warm and smooth to the touch, and even holding her hand lifted my spirits.

“I know, it is not an exchange,” she whispered. “I just wish you could forgive yourself.”

I nodded, looking down again.

“Perhaps a long term goal?” Molls asked, a hopeful uplift at the end of her question.

I met her eyes and couldn’t help but smile. They were so unlike human eyes, with a vertical pupil, and bands of green and gold. “Sure Molls. I trust your process.”

Her eyes widened and she scowled, pouting. “Hey, that wasn’t work. I just have a different opinion of you than you seem to have of yourself.”

“Are you sure that’s not work? It sounds a little like work.” I smiled as I asked and offered her my other hand.

She took it immediately, and grinned. Her usual small and prim smile broke slightly wider, and her real mouth opened as she exhaled a snort of amusement. “It does sound a little like work, doesn’t it?”

The tall Nah’gh woman let go of my hands, clasping her own together. “Hey, I was going to the hobb barbeque for some breakfast. Would you maybe want to join me?”

I smiled and nodded. “I’d love to.” I offered her my hand again, and she took it with a deep, full-mouthed smile as we turned to walk and slither down my driveway together.

Her mouth was honestly a little scary. Anytime she smiled too wide, it revealed her hidden ability to unhinge her jaws. I couldn’t help but remember the suckling pig I had walked in on her eating, a few days prior.

But fear didn’t feel the same anymore, and what I felt when I looked at Molls was not truly fear anyway. Titillation, perhaps fit the description better. I got a small rush of fear, but all it did was further excite me, drive me closer to Molls to feel more of it.

Phyllis noticed us the moment we turned out of my lot. The old woman had been refilling her tea kettle from a metal bottle but set both items down the moment she saw us.

Molls happily waved, and I joined in. Phyllis smiled widely and waved an oversized metal hand at us. The instant Molls turned away, Phyllis’ expression changed. She scowled at me and raised two fingers to touch just below her eyes, before turning them to point at me.

I chuckled and nodded, but my old friend stayed stern. Guess I knew who she liked better.

Molls squeezed my hand lightly before letting go, as we began to see more people out and about. When I looked back at her, she nodded toward the main parking lot.

The campground was alive. Dozens of people walked around the residential blocks, hobbs and humans alike. A truck beeped its horn from behind us, and we split to get out of its way.

A crew of mixed hobbs and humans were on board with another truck-load of yarsp carcasses. Molls looked down at the light trail of ichor they left and grimaced, slithering off to the side of the road.

The reactions from the gathered crowd to Molls were mixed. Nobody jumped up or ran away, but there were quite a few expressions of surprise, and more than a little murmuring. There was a solid crowd of people in the parking lot and nearby field, so they noticed Molls one at a time, or in small groups.

For her part, Molls ignored them with regal dignity, and I realized with a wince that it was because she’d had plenty of practice being stared at. Even the hobbs found her unusual and interesting, though likely for different reasons than our human population.

Most of the activity was surrounding the fire-pits. Our hobbs had been busy and dug three large fire pits in the field of dead grass between our parking lot and the residential blocks. They had dozens of freshly butchered yarsp steaks on large, rough looking iron grills, little more than huge grates over the fires.

Multiple hobbs in aprons worked at butchery, making short work of each carcass as it was brought over. I had to watch, impressed as they worked. There were five of them, each with a specific role, a specific area of butchery to work. They improvised well, when damaged yarsps were brought over, and a small pile of random parts grew on the side until one of them had time to address it.

The butchers even removed any projectiles left in the bodies as they worked. Bullets were carved around and lopped out, gathered in a small pouch hung from the side of their table, next to their carving tools.

The pile of empty chitin grew, as hobbs and humans dragged shells away from the butcher’s station, while more dragged fresh carcasses over. Already we had pallets of the stuff, sitting at the edge of the parking lot, waiting for use or cold storage.

Most of the gathered people seemed to feel free to approach and take what they wanted, for their own meals prepared at home.

Even the ravens were hanging out, eating scraps of yarsp and watching for any litter they could steal. Sadly for them, people idly dropping things had gone out of style when BuyMort arrived. You never knew what that candy wrapper was worth on the open market, after all.

All our crummy plastic and wood tables were full of people, eating and conversing in the morning sun. Several more bits of unused furniture had been hauled out of our barn, and those were all totally full as well. People drifted in and out casually, and the hobbs happily cooked for everyone. The smell of fresh seared bacon was over everything, saturating the area, and drawing more people from the residential blocks.

As I stood and watched the gathering of people. My people.

What a week it had been.

Chapter 14

Molls went and got a plate of food. Within a few moments, she was back at my side and smiling at me.

“Find a good place to sit?” Molls asked.

I blinked and took a deep breath. “Sorry no, I was just people-watching. The last time there were this many people at the campground, I was miserable.”

She started scanning over the crowd, before pointing at a nearby card table that had been dragged out of storage. “There, that one is about to clear up. We can take it.”

I nodded and we began moving. As she predicted, the people eating there were nearly finished, and started getting up to return home, carrying their own dirty dishes with them. The hobbs didn’t hand out or clean dishes, merely filled them with food.

Molls moved a small plastic chair out of the way and placed her body so that she was equal height to the table, setting her own small red plate down in front of herself. “And are you miserable now too?”

I smiled and shook my head. “You know, it’s funny. I’m not. I should be, after what happened this morning. But I’m just not. I survived the morning, my people are thriving, and a beautiful Nah’gh woman wanted to have breakfast with me.”

Her scales flushed pink, but it was only temporary again, as purple followed close after. She looked at me with lidded eyes and smiled. “Flatterer. Speaking of breakfast, where is yours?”

“Oh I had some earlier, with Axle. We were working in the underground area, getting some lights hung for our new people. They’re going to be setting up a growing operation down there.” I shrugged and continued, “I just wanted to spend some time with you.”

Molls smiled at me, her scales a vibrant purple color. “Stop it, you’ll give us away in front of your affiliate.”

“I don’t care who knows,” I said, reaching across the table for her hand. “Or what anyone thinks.”

The look in her eyes suddenly changed, and a flicker of yellow entered her scales. She reached out and squeezed my hand, before letting it go again and focusing on her plate, full of cubed fried yarsp.

“If our relationship were to veer,” she paused and took a breath, rolling her eyes before continuing, “overtly romantic or sexual, it could cause unrest and discomfiture among the affiliate’s general populace. So says the church, general priesthood introductory manual.”

I scowled. “Why?”

“Because of privacy concerns, of course. Any affiliate member who speaks with me for guidance and support in any matter knows I can report those conversations to you, as a matter of regular affiliate operation.”

Molls paused to pluck a cube of yarsp meat off her plate with two sharp finger claws and swallow it whole.

“If it was public knowledge that you and I were sharing a more intimate relationship, the general affiliate may hesitate to be open with me in session.”

“Ahh. Pillow talk,” I said, nodding.

“Pillow talk?” Molls asked, blinking, and tilting her head.

I chuckled. “Yeah, talk that happens over a pillow.”

She flushed pink and looked at her plate, but I could see a smile spreading across her entire mouth. “Yes, exactly. The expectation is that more of what they share with me will be shared directly with their affiliate head, and that creates a chilling effect on those who seek my aid.”

Molls looked up at me, still smiling widely.

I returned the smile, as she continued eating her yarsp cubes. She flicked her tongue out over each cube before she ingested it, seeming to delight in the scent as much as the flavor. Space bacon was pretty good, I had to admit.

“Hey, hold on, why are you allowed to share their therapy sessions with me? Shouldn’t those be totally confidential?” I asked.

Molls swallowed her plate’s final cube and wiped at her lips with a cloth napkin. “An affiliate must be run, or all life within it would cease. There are strict confidentiality rules, I was trained in them. For example, I obviously won’t be sharing any of the things you tell me in confidence with anyone. Nor would I share any of your affiliate’s or associate’s sessions with anyone but you, and any managers you deem necessary. Standard church operation, and by now, most of BuyMort has adopted their practices.”

“So the smooth operation of the business is more important than a patient's right to confidentiality,” I said.

Molls hesitated, meeting my eyes with a small scowl. “That is not . . . Tyson, you fluster me when you misinterpret the will of BuyMort in this way. The smooth operation of your affiliate means that nobody here dies because of the yarsps, instead feasting on them all around us, in a communal meal. If something were to threaten it from within, and I were to hear about it during therapy, I would be well within my ethical bounds to inform someone who could intervene.”

I nodded, slowly and carefully. “Of course, Molls, I apologize. It’s not my intention to accuse you, I just have a lot of mistrust toward BuyMort.”

“Toward everything but your friends, so far as I can tell,” Molls said. She glanced at the barbeque pits before turning back to me. “I’m glad to be counted among them.”

“You’re more than just a friend to me, Molls. No point in trying to pretend on that front, I’m not a good liar,” I said, with a soft smile.

She returned the smile, her scales nearly glowing purple. “I feel the same, Tyson,” she whispered. “But I would appreciate discretion around the general affiliate.” Molls glanced at the stacks of cooked yarsp behind the cooks and swallowed.

“Are you still hungry? There’s plenty,” I said.

She blinked and straightened, lifting from her place. “Thank you, I rather am. Yarsp is delicious, and I would very much like some more.”

I watched her get in line again, holding onto her little red plate. When she returned, it was heaped. Two small steaks were underneath several more cubes, all seared to perfection.

She began eating again, and I watched the people around us. Our resident young artist, Mel, was there, with a group of people who looked like they could be her family, as was Jada. The Knowle stood out, being taller than anyone else, but she quietly formed up in line and got a heaping bowl of food, mostly yarsp.

My community ate a lot of meat, but the pallets full of yarsp steaks just kept growing. Before we were finished and chatting happily, there were nearly a dozen pallets completely full of freshly butchered meat.

Hobbs were already beginning to drag it into the barn, to try and protect it from the day’s heat, but I knew cold storage was already full of Sundew’s products and plants. More plans for the affiliate sunk into my head, as I shared an enjoyable hour chatting and laughing with Molls. She ate another three plates of yarsp.

After a little while, I noticed more and more tremors under her scales, and she kept rubbing her hands together idly.

“You’re freezing cold right now, aren’t you?” I asked with a smile.

“Yes!” She exclaimed. “I’m having fun with you though, and it’s nice to be around so many people again.” Molls sighed, before continuing, “I should get back though, I need to spend some time today preparing for my inquisition. Oh, and I have a client today!”

She was beaming at that last part.

“Oh? Good! I thought you were giving up on being our priest, you had me worried,” I said.

Molls straightened from the small table again, and I stood with her. “I was upset last night, that’s all. When someone approached me at Phyllis’ place, I just couldn’t say no. Helping people is what I do, it’s who I am.”

I smiled at her. “Part of why I like you so much, Molls.” I extended a hand toward my privacy mounds in the near distance. “Can I walk you home?”

She glanced at the crowd of people behind me and gently shook her head, with a smile and another flush of purple to her scales. “No thank you, Tyson,” she started. “But I would like to see you again sometime soon if that’s alright. I rather enjoy spending time with you, now that I’ve gotten to know you a bit better.”

“I’m not a leering ruffian anymore?” I asked, grinning.

She laughed, accidentally opening her real mouth a little. “You most assuredly are, but I find myself liking that about you more and more. You’re a handsome leering ruffian at the least.”

I grinned and snorted in response, looking up into her giant, green eyes.

Molls smiled at me, meeting my gaze for a long moment before she turned and slithered toward home.

I sighed and stared at my pallets of yarsp meat. Seeing Molls had been seriously uplifting, but I needed to get back to work.

Chapter 15

The hobbs were still busily breaking down more yarsps, but most of the people who had gathered for breakfast were already drifting away and moving on with the rest of their day.

The work of preparing the meat would be a few hours more, based on the pile of corpses. There was also a ton of the yarsp’s chitin left, stacked in great piles against the side of our barn.

Jada was there, scanning the piles for sale to BuyMort. I approached her to get going again with my own work day.

“Hey Jada!” I said, raising my arm in greeting.

She glanced over and continued with her work, scanning another husk for the nearby BuyMort pod to beam away. It kept leaving and coming back, darting over the spider farm with each transaction.

“Hello Tyson,” Jada grumbled.

“How’s Axle?” I asked.

She scowled and frowned. “Fine, I think. The more work he has, the better, keeps his mind busy.”

“Well that’s good news, cause I have a ton of work for you guys today,” I said.

“One moment,” Jada said, holding up a claw. She continued her work with the yarsp husks, and I stepped away to pull up the affiliate page.

Our morties were rising steadily. Darclau’s gang had another rockstar night, netting us a cool four-hundred-thousand morties for our slice. I wondered what those ravens were stealing all night to keep bringing us such a great round of morties for our percentage. Those birds were rich.

Axle had managed to get all of our freezers up and running and had our first sale of Sleem for the day already posted. It wasn’t much compared to the raven’s contributions, but eleven thousand morties an hour was nothing to scoff at, if the farm kept up production.

Even Jada’s yarsp husks were worthy contributions, bringing in another hundred thousand morties through sheer volume. I was starting to look forward to the yarsp nest hunt. But first things first.

I swiped more morties into the build fund, bringing the total up to two million, before Jada waved to get my attention.

“What do you need, boss?” she asked. Her tone with me was gentler since we had fought the delves together. Still stiff though.

“I was hoping you could pass some instructions and general desires along to Axle, for the build,” I said.

“Of course,” she responded, pulling her tablet device from its pocket. She glanced at it and blinked in surprise. “Two million morties will get a lot built, what are you looking for?”

Jada and I spent the next half hour going over specifics, in the growing sunlight.

A size upgrade for our huts was already planned and would bring our capacity for residents up quite a bit. It would be a single story apartment complex by the time it was complete, with roughly twice the number of total units to live in. People had stopped trailing into the camp for the most part, but I was expecting that to change soon, and we needed space for all the hobbs that would be coming to live with us anyway.

The spider ranch needed another apartment built onto it, and Jada sketched out an easy solution. We had built an oversized apartment and barn, for Drusk the Mordren to use. Jada showed me how it would be easy to place another apartment on the opposite side of the barn, with dimensions more suitable to an elven body type.

She also walked me through some of Axle’s current plans for the ranch. He was going to be tearing out a good chunk of the paved walkway, as the underground hatch was beneath a section of it. The Knowle had also already sketched out and shared plans for an installed pond, something Shela could use to bathe daily.

A scrawled note on the side of his sketch said it would also serve to attract more local flying insects for the rest of the spiders. Axle had also included a very simple camouflage netting system that could be extended or retracted to cover Shela and Dro’erja from view. It would lift from several places in the nearby mud-crete wall, and store inside hollowed out tubes, with the netting bunched up against the wall.

Axle wanted to use a good chunk of the construction money to get water, power, and sewage hooked up to everything, which I agreed with. It was good to be making some morties, but we needed the creature comforts as quickly as possible for our residents.

I walked Jada through a special upgrade I wanted for my own place, a greenhouse deck. I wanted more space, so Cube wouldn’t be living in the entryway anymore, so we planned to extend my bungalow by another single room. On top of that room, using the space left over from the original construction, I wanted a tall room comprised of windows.

Jada warned me of how swelteringly hot it would get in that room during the day, and I merely smiled in response. I needed someplace Molls could be comfortable, so we could spend more time together. The heat had never really bothered me anyway.

Once all of the construction for the day was squared away, I left Jada and went to go see Drusk, my mordren spider rancher.

The ranch gate was solid wood, but it swung easily open for me. The area looked so different from what I had been used to, surrounded by tall mud-crete walls. Drusk’s barn and apartment loomed huge, facing the trees and pathway.

As I approached, I could hear shuffling sounds coming from within, and see motion in the empty windows. Drusk was up and moving around.

I knocked on the door, and the sounds all stopped. “Good morning, Drusk!” I shouted.

The sliding door on the barn opened, rolling sideways as Drusk shoved it. Sunlight poured in and reflected against his armored skin, as the towering, muscular reptilian stepped out toward me.

His arms were in normal positions again, and muscle rippled beneath the plating as he moved the large door. One hand ended in a capped hook, but the other looked like it had the night he used it to gut me. His jawline was filled with rough, pockmarked scarring, and he wore a white, bandaged eyepatch.

“Morning,” he growled.

“Missed you at breakfast, are you gettin’ enough to eat?” I asked.

Drusk glared at me, before narrowing his reptilian eyes to stare at the gate behind me. “Do you truly think I would be welcomed at a hobb barbeque? At your hobb barbeque?”

“Why does everybody keep asking that? The BlueCleave hobbs are pretty easy-going, Drusk. You should try next time, you might be surprised,” I said. “At least make sure and grab some yarsp, that stuff is delicious.”

He continued squinting at the gate and slowly nodded, so I changed the subject.

“How’s spider ranching suit you so far?” I asked.

The mordren shrugged, staring down at me. “No work to speak of. I was just moving supplies around. Optimizing storage space. Spiders need time to recover their population, there won’t be much work for me for a while.”

“Yeah, about that,” I started. “I’ve got another rancher coming on board.”

When Drusk whipped around to glare at me, I raised my hands and continued, “he’s a specialist, don’t look at me like that.”

“I already have no work. No work means no pay, means no prosthetics, means I never leave this place!” Drusk was nearly shouting by the end.

“No, just hold on,” I said. “Dro’erja is a member of the House of None, and he’s here as a specialist only. He won’t be helping with your spiders unless you ask him to.”

“Delves here?” Drusk scowled. “Odd.”

“Yeah, I’ll let him tell you how he managed to land here, I just came to let you know I’ll expect you to at least get along with him, if not work together.” I had my hands on my hips as I finished.

“Of course, boss,” Drusk growled. He grasped his truncated hand, rubbing the stump underneath his hook’s placement. “I’m not a fighter anymore.”

“Look, Drusk,” I started. “The spiders will recover, and so will you. I’ll look into some BuyMort shit that can help, and you can help out around the affiliate wherever you see fit until there’s work for you here. I’ll make sure you get paid for it. Or just sit on your tail if you want.”

His expression changed at that, a hint of mirth appearing at the corner of his mouth. “Is that a Nu-Earth phrase?” He asked.

“Yeah.” I nodded.

“But you have no tails,” he openly laughed. His missing teeth were evident as his long jaw opened.

I paused, scowled in thought for a moment, and started laughing myself. “To be fair, we used to have tails. Recently enough that some of us are still born with vestigial tails.”

Drusk was still chuckling, but paused to ask, “does the phrase come from the time your people had tails?”

I burst out in fresh laughter. “No. No, it does not.”

Drusk looked rather intimidating when he laughed, his crocodilian mouth hanging open, teeth glinting in the sunlight.

“Humans are strange, that is not in question. Nu-Earth humans might be the strangest yet,” the hulking mordren said.

After a long moment had passed and the laughter faded, he looked up at me again. “There will be work?”

“Drusk, if there’s not something for you to do here by the end of the day, I’ll find you a new assignment. We’ll earn you those morties,” I replied. “Besides, if you help Dro’erja with his work, you’ll get a cut of that too, from our end. Say, five percent?”

Drusk scowled again, leaning with his good arm against the doorframe. “What is this work, anyway?”

“He has a special spider he cares for, you’ll meet her soon. Swamp Spinner, very large.” I waved a hand at the sidewalk behind us. “Hell, she’s probably down there now, the tunnel comes up right beneath us. Oh hey, that reminds me,” I said, snapping my fingers. “We’ve got a bunch of goblin construction coming in today to install a pond and dig out the tunnel. Let Axle and the crew know if there’s any additions you want.”

The mordren nodded. “I’ll help out, the faster we get this area earning, the faster I can leave.”

I nodded and turned to go. “I love your attitude Drusk!”

I opened the gates and headed through. Rayna was on the other side with a small gathering of armed hobbs.

“Oh, is it that time already?” I asked.

“You said as early as we can boss, this all our remaining arsenal,” Rayna indicated the group with a wave of her pebbled hand. “Time to raid the militia.”

A dozen hobbs stood before me, with Jada hulking at the back. Ordo and Tollya were there, as were a few more of the veteran squad we’d had since first hiring them. Most of them had handguns. Tollya had her shotgun, and Rayna was wearing her bolt action. Two other hobbs had a rifle, but all the rest were armed with only handguns.

“No other weapons?” I asked.

“None with ammunition,” Rayna immediately replied.

“Well, good news then, the raid is not a raid anymore. I gotta talk to you Rayna,” I said, gesturing for her to move aside with me.

Rayna motioned to her troops, and they retreated across the dead grass field to the parking lot, where they began leaning on cars and trucks, and conversing, I assumed about us.

“We’re not attacking them, Rayna. Not anymore. I have scouting information to share,” I said. “They’re hungry, they have a food problem.”

Rayna’s eyes widened and she nodded. “Try to trade then? We have so much yarsp.”

I nodded. “Exactly. There’s no way I’m risking a stand up fight when we’re this low on munitions anyway. What I need is everyone that comes with us wearing a personal shield. Phyllis and I will be fine, but the rest of you absolutely need to be wearing one that works.”

She scowled. “Still expecting trouble?”

“You don’t know these guys like I do, Rayna. Always expect trouble from them, they don’t understand the path of least resistance,” I said.

“Does this path lead to their base?” Rayna asked, confusion evident on her face.

“No, just a saying. They don’t do things the easy way, that’s all. These guys resort to violence at the drop of a hat, I doubt we’ll get out of there without getting shot at.”

Rayna blinked and tilted her head. “Why we trying trade if you think it not work?”

“I think it won’t work at first. Once they realize they can’t shoot us and take our food, they may trade for it,” I said.

“And if they don’t?” she asked.

I raised my eyebrows and took a deep breath. “Well, we still have a few guns. And Phyllis. It’s not like these guys’ll have shields.”

Rayna nodded, but her brow was still furrowed. “Boss, something else,” she said. “Change plans with delves. Now with militia.”

“No, Rayna, not really. The plan with the militia was to get their guns. The only part I’m changing is how. Besides, if it all falls apart, you might get your raid after all. I’m just trying to avoid killing any more of my own people,” I said.

I shook my head and sighed.

“And I changed plans with the delves to avoid putting your people at risk, as much as I could. It got urgent, I couldn’t wait for or risk a full mobilization.”

She raised her hands. “Sorry boss. I just mean hobbs question plan changes. Last minute plan changes usually mean dead hobbs.”

“I dunno what to tell you Rayna, you’re the one who believes in me,” I said, chuckling with my hands on my hips. “Sell it as improvements to the plan, instead of changes. This way there’s less chances of getting shot at, for most of us. Maybe that’ll help.”

“Yeah boss, that help,” she said.

“Really wish you would just call me Tyson,” I sighed back.

“Call you boss now. Maybe Tyson someday.” Rayna stopped and turned back to me. “You don’t understand, but it important new hobbs see you as boss first, Tyson second.”

I nodded slowly, trying to take in what she had said, and remembering what had happened to Mr. Sada. He had screwed up his leadership role badly enough to get himself killed. Admittedly, it had been by my hand, but if I screwed up badly enough, I had to wonder if they would try to kill me too.

Rayna moved to address her troops. After talking to them for a few moments, the group split up and moved to the vehicles. I called Phyllis and got yelled at for bothering her but reassured that she was on her way.

Our next step was to load a few pallets of butchered yarsp meat onto trucks. I settled on six, of our fourteen total pallets. We still needed to feed our own people, and I wasn’t sure how long the yarsps would keep presenting themselves for us to feast on, after I went and raided their nest.

Within half an hour, all the trucks were loaded with food, hobbs, and Phyllis. She rode in the lead truck bed, causing the entire pickup to sag dramatically. The rest of our vehicles had pallets of yarsp meat surrounded by greens or bread products, and hobbs crammed anywhere they could sit. We had more food than we had storage for, which was another problem.

I dumped a request for more storage into Axle’s texts as we headed out the gates. The Arizona sun was high, and the day was still cold as we headed the long way around the national forest. The hobbs kept an eye out for any kind of movement from the trees, as well as the road ahead, but we had a peaceful drive.

The world was mostly empty. Only the great metal cable in the sky served to remind me of BuyMort, and everything it had done.

Chapter 16

Our truck slid to a stop near the entryway to the mine, still hundreds of feet away from their primary fences, in empty dirt lots full of desert scrub. Bullets rattled against our hood and pinged off from Phyllis’ armor in the back.

I jumped out as soon as the truck stopped and started waving my arms. Bullets whined and snapped past me, and I flinched but held my position, still waving both arms frantically. All of the hobbs jumped out and took cover behind the vehicles, but everyone had their shields on already anyway, and I wasn’t really worried about anyone other than me getting shot.

Phyllis stepped up beside me, shaking the earth with each foot fall. “They seem friendly.” Bullets pinged and sparked off her armor as she spoke, her words mechanically enhanced from inside her helmet.

“Yeah, I figured this might happen,” I said. I stepped away from the vehicles, raised my arms over head, and started walking slowly toward their gates.

Another shooter joined the first, and I took a few rounds. People appeared in windows and doorways all over the compound. I winced and grunted in pain at the first bullet to blast through me, but my suit’s painkiller had kicked in by the time the second round hit, and it just didn’t have the same impact.

My starfish suit started work, deploying tendrils and repairing the damage. As I walked, more rounds sunk into me, sparked off the suit, and sent up clouds of dust from the desert around me. Everything was tinted with rosy light, and the pain barely registered.

“You can stop wasting bullets now!” I shouted as I walked. “We’re not here to fight!”

The shooting stopped, and I could almost feel the confusion on the other side of the fence. After a long moment of watching the huddled figures converse, one of them moved forward.

“Stay where you are, or you will be fired upon!”

I rolled my eyes and muttered, “yeah that’s an effective threat.” With my arms still above my head, I shouted back, “We brought food for trade!”

They froze. One of them broke from the others and ran further into the facility, eventually vanishing into a distant metal-roofed building.

Rayna called me, and I took a moment to open a com channel and place it out of the way inside my helmet.

“Front two trucks took fire, both damaged,” she grunted.

I glanced back to see one of the forward pickup trucks smoking. Steam was rising from the radiator, and I sighed again. The other one had a few bullet holes in the windshield, but seemed otherwise fine, but the first truck was toast. It’d never make it back to camp, and one of the civilians had loaned it to us.

Great, lost a truck on this run. If this didn’t work, and we came away empty handed, I was sure I would have a hobb revolt to deal with. Maybe Rayna would just order them to attack regardless.

“We’ll get the guns, Rayna, don’t worry,” I said.

“One way or the other, right boss?” She asked.

I shut my eyes, grit my teeth, and nodded. “Right. Just let me squeeze them a little first, and only kill anyone who attacks us directly, if we have to kill any of them at all.”

Phyllis thundered up behind me.

“What’s happening?” she asked. The helmet’s faceplate was lifted, and she was smoking a joint, as usual. Her gun arm was rotating gently, heat shimmers wafting out of the barrel in small puffs.

“Nothing, Phill. Just making contact,” I said. Jada stepped up silently behind Phyllis, claws gripping her heavy mace. I nodded at her, and she glared at the militia in the distance.

At the distant building, a small crowd formed outside of the doors and part of it began moving toward us.

They traveled in an inverted wedge formation, with a large, bearded man at the center of it. I sighed and shook my head. The inverted wedge left their VIP open to attack from the front, where we were.

Were they worried about their own civilian population, flexing their perceived combat superiority, or just incompetent idiots who didn’t understand the point of their own formations? I guessed the latter, none of them were walking backwards or even watching behind them. At least they looked cool, I guess.

They approached the gate and broke formation, spreading out and pointing rifles at us.

Phyllis giggled and closed her faceplate.

I stood and gently raised my arms again, watching in silence as they approached. Each of them was heavily armed, with rifles and handguns in abundance. Several of them stared at Jada with obvious hatred. For her part, Jada was in a combat ready position, partially crouched and snarling.

The big man at their lead was wearing a plate carrier over a black ‘tactical’ top and black ‘tactical’ pants. Each of his followers wore an identical outfit. The only thing tactical about their clothing was the uniform nature. It ensured they had a slightly lower chance of shooting one another if a conflict arose.

By contrast, I wore a pair of loose fitting silk pants, a set of leather strapped sandals, and a mirror surfaced helmet. The starfish suit counted too, I guess, but it was so much less obvious since the upgrade that I hardly noticed it when looking at myself.

Phyllis towered at my side in her mech, marijuana smoke leaking from the helmet. Behind us, a small army of alien hobgoblins stood, each staring and waiting for my word to attack.

Rayna and I had discussed the entire situation at length on the way over. Each hobb was wearing a personal shield that would stop or turn aside any physical object traveling at a high enough rate of velocity. Energy weapons or explosives were needed to overwhelm the shields, and none of the militia carried anything but conventional Nu-Earth firearms.

The lead man with the beard stepped forward, one hand on the rifle hung at his midsection. The man was middle aged, with grey streaks running down his cheeks, and some heavy lines on his face. His beard was large, but immaculately trimmed, jutting down to just above his plate carrier.

“What are you doin’ here?” he barked. “This is private property.”

I smiled, but quickly realized he couldn’t see my expression, so I cocked my head to the side instead. “Yours? Or The Dearth Conglomerate’s? I wonder who holds the MortBlock.”

His jaw muscles tightened, and his index finger curled out to extend across the trigger guard of his rifle.

I waved a hand, cutting off any incoming angry responses. “To answer your question directly, we came to trade. Brought plenty of meat, six pallets straight from the butchers table. Tyson Dawes, of Silken Sands,” I said, reaching a hand out for him to shake.

The tall man stepped forward and grabbed my hand, before trying to yank me toward himself. I recognized the move, a classic strongman attempt at domination. I’m sure this guy thought of himself as an alpha male.

When I didn’t stumble forward as he had intended, something popped in his elbow, and a strained look appeared behind his beard. I squeezed his hand lightly and stopped when I felt his bones rubbing together beneath my palm. Strength based intimidation techniques don’t work when you have artificially enhanced strength yourself.

“Cole,” he wheezed, gripping his hand. He stared up at my reflective helmet. “Cole Middler, captain of the Arms Keepers.”

“Who’s the general, then?” I asked.

Cole narrowed his eyes at me, and I heard some grumbles from the men at his back. “Tops out at captain these days,” he said.

“Ah, good. Just making sure I have someone with the authority to trade,” I said.

“I’m as high up as they get here. What is this meat you have for trade?” He gestured behind us, to the trucks.

“Oh you’ll love it. This stuff is yarsp meat, from those crazy swarming land wasp things. Tastes like salt pork, or bacon,” I said. I moved out of the way so they could more easily see the trucks. “Well, you may want to run a metal detector over the pallets in the first couple trucks, but other than the bullets your guys shot into it, it’s a solid food product. Had some for breakfast myself.”

The men behind Cole began grumbling again, but he raised a closed fist at them to silence the dissent. In the distance behind them, a man on crutches furiously moved toward the gate from the bowels of their facility.

Cole pointed. “My men did that to your truck?”

“Yeah,” I sighed and nodded. “Understandable, I guess, given all the recent events on our lovely little planet.”

“Is it your planet?” Cole asked. I turned to face him, expecting a taunt, but the question seemed genuine.

“Yes, Cole. I’m from the same planet as you,” I said, looking his group up and down. “Just adapting better than you guys, I guess.”

He stared at me for a long moment, while Zach approached on his crutches. As soon as the man was in range, he began shouting.

“That’s him!” Zach’s voice faintly called out to us. “That’s the guy! That’s the fucking guy!”

Cole turned and sighed, staring at Zach. “What is he trying to say?”

“He’s trying to tell you that ‘I’m the guy.’ He’s probably trying to bring to your attention the fact that I’m the man you sent him to kill, likely on the orders of Dearth,” I said, casually.

Cole turned and stared at me, eyes wide and jaw clenched.

“How am I doing? Pretty good guesses?” I asked.

Zach made it then, interrupting us. “Cole! Cole, captain! That’s him, that’s the guy! He’s a freak, be careful.”

“Dammit, Zach, I know who he is. Get back inside where you’re covered, you’re a target out here,” Cole barked.

“But captain!” Zach protested. “This man is our enemy! He killed Arms Keepers soldiers!”

“Get him out of here!” Cole roared. One of the men in his escort turned and grabbed Zach by the elbow.

“Yeah, he’s really weakening your bargaining position, huh?” I asked. When Cole turned to glare at me again, I raised my hands. “Hey, I don’t take any of it personally, let’s call it bygones and look to the future, right? Only men I killed were men trying to kill me. Natural right of any man to self-defense, isn’t it?”

Cole’s jaw muscles clenched again. I was glad for the helmet, it offered me a significant advantage in negotiations.

“Look, we have a small shopping list. If you make our list happy, you get all the meat here, plus we can do regular shipments for more trade in the future. We have our food production up and running,” I lied.

“And what’s on your shopping list, exactly?” Cole asked, eyes narrowed.

“Three things. Arms, ammunition, and fuel. Hell, I’ll even throw in the truck your boys here shot up on the way in. You guys can fix it up and it can replace the truck I kept from your assassins earlier this week,” I said.

“Arms and ammunition?” Cole asked. His right eyebrow raised to a peak.

“And fuel, if you can manage it.” I said. “Arms and ammo are the important ones on the list for the moment though. Gotta keeps the yarsps at bay.”

More men began emerging from the various buildings across the compound, each wearing a plate carrier and holding various weaponry. They began walking casually toward the fence line. Zach fought back against his escort, trying to pull the crutches away from the other man.

“This is fucked! Fucked, man! I gotta talk to the captain, he doesn’t know this guy!” Zach shouted. He engaged in a verbal back and forth with his escort, which I watched with interest until Cole shifted his stance to block my view.

“Fuel is no problem, we can trade for that,” he said.

I nodded my helmet and said nothing.

“How much iron are you looking for?” Cole finally asked.

I nodded again, and raised a hand to rub my chin, rubbing the bottom of the helmet instead. “Yeah, about that. Half.”

“Excuse me?” Cole said. It wasn’t a question, not the way he asked it.

“Half of your guns and ammunition, plus two hundred gallons of unleaded, if you can spare that much. Don’t want to put you guys in the dark or anything,” I said.

Cole’s jawline had hardened as soon as I started speaking, and his eyes quickly followed. A handful of the men at Cole’s back had openly scoffed when I asked for half of their weaponry, and a few were smiling,  conversing with one another in low voices and looking at my hobbs.

Cole took a breath and opened his mouth to speak, but I raised a hand and cut him off.

“Before you tell me to go fuck myself Cole, I want you to think about your situation good and hard,” I said. I lowered my voice and my volume, so the men at his back would not easily over-hear us.

“I know you need this food, I know your people are fighting each other over candy bars,” I said, watching his reaction closely. His eyes widened slightly, before he got the expression under control and changed it from surprise back to anger.

“And I know you probably have fifteen weapons for every man on that fence behind you, stashed in an armory somewhere on this property. My request is reasonable. I want your guns, I want your bullets. But you need my food,” I growled. “After what happened between our camps, I think I’m being generous with my prices. You can always try your luck selling guns on BuyMort, Dearth is buying 'em all up right now. You like the sounds of your guns going to them?”

Cole scowled further. “No food in the world is worth that much in iron. Even if I could give away that many of our tools, we’d be massively over-paying. I don’t fuck on the first date, son.”

My teeth clenched, and I fingered the bull’s head ring on my finger. “No, Cole. Everything is worth exactly as much as people are willing to pay for it. And you’re going to pay me half of your guns and ammo, plus two hundred gallons of fuel, if you want this food. That’s the price.”

He shook his head and set his jaw. His hands hung casually from his plate carrier. “No.”

“Okay,” I said. I nodded and turned back to Rayna. “Never-mind. Pack everyone up, we’re rolling out!”

Rayna blinked in confusion at me, but angry voices from behind Cole grabbed our attention. The militia members in the compound had spread out, taking up defensive positions and gathering near concrete emplacements.

When the smaller group near us began shouting, all of the group behind us moved quickly into cover and pointed their weapons our way. I faced Cole to see him hunched up behind his rifle, trained at my bare chest. His men formed up behind him and did the same.

“You’re right. We need that food, but I really don’t see any good reason to be paying for it,” he said.

I shook my head and raised a hand to stop violence from my hobbs. “Don’t do this, Cole. You’re about to get your friends killed.”

“Alpha target, strike!” Cole shouted into his shoulder.

Chapter 17

Something hit Phyllis with a heavy ‘ping’ sound, and she toppled with a grunt. An instant later, the unmistakable sound of an anti-tank rifle rolled overhead, echoing across the valley. Jada snarled and leapt forward, raising her mace.

She sent one man flying after striking him in the chest, before slamming the mace down onto another’s head. The Knowle whipped around in the formation of militia, killing or maiming with each strike, moving deceptively fast for her size.

Cole opened fire on me, at nearly point blank range.

“No!” I screamed, as I lunged for Cole and got shot several times in the center mass.

I gripped his rifle, ignoring the bullets it pumped through me, and yanked it out of his hands into the dirt. Cole’s eyes went wide, and he backpedaled, hauling his sidearm out of its holster.

Before he could raise it, I slapped the gun out of his hands and took another step closer. The man fumbled at a knife, but his eyes went wide and he froze as he fixated on my wounds. Rifle fire filled the air around us, and I took several more rounds to my back and side with a grunt.

I staggered, and Cole raised his knife. The tendrils on my suit whipped back and forth, repairing damage and blocking any potential route to me. I stood tall while the painkiller flooded through me again and fuzzed all sensation.

Then I grabbed Cole by the shirt collar and shoved him down to the ground. I kicked his knife away and stopped to glance at the battle, standing over the top of him.

My hobbs were impervious to any damage, and were carefully returning fire, using only single rounds. The hobbs with handguns bunched up in front of the hobbs with rifles, to allow them steadier aim. Rayna shouted orders and guided their movements. By comparison, the militia numbers were dwindling rapidly at the fence, each of them scrambling into cover.

Jada turned back to watch me with Cole, having wiped out his squad single handedly.

Phyllis roared up onto one knee, her mech tearing the air as she fired her cannon. Two men in tacti-cool gear at the fence vanished in gouts of red flame, blackened bones, and scorched clothing scraps.

Another heavy round smacked into her mech, and Phyllis grunted again as she rolled to the side. She started firing at the fence-line, from her belly. The now familiar sound of the heavy sniper rolled across the encampment, chased after by the hard metallic ‘ping’ of the round bouncing off her armor.

“Oh where are you, you little fascist,” she muttered. The oversized mech was flat on its stomach, gun arm resting on a small hill. “Oh, guck-guck, there you are!”

She fired, and a man blasted away in flames on a rooftop in the compound.

“Tell them to stop, Cole, or there’ll be nobody left,” I said.

My hobbs moved past, forming a line in front of us. Their shields flared blue when struck, in small, localized patches, and none of them was injured, or even sought cover.

“Tell them to stand down, captain!” I shouted.

“Cease fire! Cease fire!” he finally shouted into his com unit. It was strapped to his shoulder, and he leaned to speak into it. “Stop shooting dammit, they’re all shielded!”

I nodded and swept over the battle again. Rayna and her hobbs were standing in a line in front of us, weapons at the ready. Phyllis gathered herself, standing up out of the dirt and aiming her gun at the fence line. A scattering of dead bodies littered the immediate area, surrounding Jada and her dripping mace. Cole was the only survivor of his group.

Zach’s escort had turned to fight and been put down. Zach himself was still hobbling toward the fence as quickly as his crutches and injuries would let him.

“Dammit Cole, I didn’t want anyone else to die today,” I said with a sigh. “You ready to talk yet?”

“Yes, yes! Stop killing my people!” Cole shouted, hands in front of his face.

I reached a hand down to help him up, and he just stared at it. “My people aren’t shooting anymore. Your people killed themselves, every single time they attacked me and mine without cause. Get that through your thick skull if you want to eat tonight!”

When he still didn’t take my hand, I clenched my fist and pointed at him. “Look asshole, you caused all of this, being the dirty-job errand boys for an alien mega-corp, against your own people. You know how few of us are left?” I swept an arm at his fence, now filled with smoldering holes from Phyllis and her cannon.

“Even fewer now. I came here to feed your people, Cole! Why’d you shoot at us?” I yelled, leaning over the downed man.

“You can have the guns!” he shouted. His hands quivered in front of his face.

I stopped, blinking rapidly, and standing up straight. “What?” I asked.

“We’ll make the trade!” Cole yelled.

I stepped away, letting him scramble back and recover to a sitting position.

“You can have the guns,” he said again, defeated.

My head tilted to the side, and I stared at the man. “This is an uncharacteristically wise decision, Cole. Makes me suspicious.”

“You were right. About everything you said, you were right. We did those aliens' dirty work for them. They said we’d become part of the affiliate, have protection and supplies, independence, back-up when we needed it. But you wouldn’t die!” Cole glared up at me from the ground.

“They wouldn’t pay, even took some of our people when we complained. Called it an exchange program, but we stopped hearing from our people a day after they were taken. Now they won’t give us the food they promised, and we can barely afford to keep our people fed, selling our guns to them,” Cole shook his head and grunted as he got to his feet. “Guess I’d rather you have them than Dearth is all.”

I stared at the man for a long moment, letting him see his own reflection in my helmet. “Alright, Cole. I believe you. Let’s go get your people fed.” To Rayna, I shouted, “We’re good! Let’s move in!”

Thankfully, the truck they had shot and killed was the one we used to carry Phyllis, so we left it and got the other trucks moving forward. Most of the hobbs stayed on foot, walking escort in case of more violence.

Cole moved ahead of us, speaking into his shoulder and relaying instructions. I listened to all of them, making sure he wasn’t trying to set us up for an ambush. Fortunately, he seemed to be acting in good faith since his failed attack.

We arrived at the gates and were led inside by a very sullen group of armed militia members. None of the militia pointed their guns at us, and we were allowed inside the fencing without any more trouble.

His people were visibly dirty, soot and mining dust coating their clothing and faces. Most of them looked like they had been underground working. Women and children were mixed in with the men, and most males in the compound were armed. Plenty of the women were too, but the standing force was primarily men. All human too, every single person in the compound.

Any boy that looked to be over the age of twelve years carried a rifle across their backs. Several had handguns as well. Cole’s people emerged from the various buildings on the lot, fearful and cautious.

As we approached, there was a commotion, as several family members realized their men were dead. The militia members themselves had to hold back the families, and I saw one take a rifle away from a young man who stared at us with unmitigated fury and hatred.

“Well Cole, we are just off to a great start. Can you control your people?” I asked.

Ads cycled out, secret police agencies and murderous-looking “control” bots. I shut them down immediately.

“Easier when fewer of us are dead on the ground, but yes,” he retorted.

Cole stepped out in front of us and raised his arms for his group's attention, as the hobbs slowly wheeled in through the gate behind us. “Everyone stand down!”

The growing crowd responded. Uncertainty seemed to fill the air, but most of the rifles lowered. I wasn’t concerned for us, but Cole was in the line of fire. If they took him down, I had no doubt we would have to kill our way to the armory and back.

“I said stand the hell down!” Cole roared. This time, they did. Rifles lowered and so did the defiant gazes. Family members of the fallen still wailed against those restraining them, but I suppose that was to be expected.

I turned to Rayna. “Leave the meat in the trucks for the moment but allow any who approach to have some. Cole and I are going to go get my new guns.”

Rayna nodded, and her hobbs immediately spread out to form a perimeter.

“Hey Phill?” I asked.

Her mech leaned over to look at me. “Yes, dearie?”

“Can I trust you alone with these folks?” I asked.

“Oh absolutely not. You know how I deal with fascists, Tyson, sweetie.” Her altered voice rolled across the open area.

“Okay, but they’re not fascists, Phill. You get that, right?” I replied.

The mech stood and placed its hands on its hips. Well, one hand, the other was a slowly rotating plasma gun barrel. “I don’t think so, dearie. Haven’t you seen the kind of flags they fly?”

Cole went red, and purposefully looked away.

“Phyllis,” I said. “Bygones. Flags aren’t important anymore. Not really sure they ever were. Can I trust you to be the bigger person?”

“Oh, I am now, dearie. I’m very big now. That’s why I’ll deal with them however I see fit,” she said, before taking a long, audible drag on her joint. “You’re not my boss, in case you weren’t aware.”

I turned to face Cole. “Well, that’s as much assurance as we get. I suggest you tell your people not to do anything stupid, like attempt large explosives against her. It might work, I’ll be honest and tell you I haven’t seen that attempted yet.”

He scowled at me, so I continued.

“But the consequences . . .” I left the end of my statement hang, looking up at Phyllis. She was hulking directly in front of the trucks, slowly scanning the lot, smoke leaking from the faceplate. Jada stood at her side, snarling, and clutching her bloody mace.

Cole nodded, blinking rapidly, and looking hard at his own boots. “Follow me.”

I nodded and fell in behind him.

Chapter 18

We walked at a brisk pace, toward the largest building on the lot. It housed several of the ore ramps that littered the area, and as I expected, when we entered the place was filthy.

Cole stepped aside to talk to his men, within range of me. I could overhear their conversation, but it was clearly just him telling them to be as careful as they could not to upset the hulking mech in their lot, so I took a moment to look around instead of listening too closely.

None of the mining equipment was in use, but dust and grime covered every surface. Near the center of the wide, open building sat a huge vat that trembled with vibrations of internal rhythmic movement.

The ore belts all fed into the huge vat, either through alteration of their original structure, or with add-on portions, likely purchased from BuyMort. None of the machinery was operating aside from the vat, which hummed and vibrated through the floor. Ore dust hung on everything in the room though.

Several thick pipes were fitted to the bottom of the vat, and they lead to different places around the building. One in particular caught my interest, as it was being manned. A young man stood at the end of the pipe, wearing a respirator and heavy gloves as he moved an oil barrel under the spigot at the end.

A smell close to that of fresh gasoline filled the room as he opened the pipe, allowing a rapid flood of brownish yellow liquid to rapidly fill the barrel. He stopped the spigot, capped the barrel, and began the arduous process of leaning it back to roll it out of the way on the lip of the bottom ring.

Looked like the militia had some sort of fuel production device, and the means to feed it.

“What is that stuff?” I asked, my curiosity peaked.

Cole looked at me from over his shoulder, and glowered. ”Fuel.”

I nodded and turned away. He was not going to give me any information. I glanced around the room again, noting how dirty it was. How stained and torn the non-’tactical’ clothing on all of the people was. It was very clear that this was not a wealthy affiliate, so whatever they were selling, I felt confident I could afford a barrel of it.

I pointed at the barrel and said, “I'd like to buy a barrel of that, BuyMort. Use the Silken Sands affiliate page, please, and deliver to Silken Sands.”

The app sprang to life and offered me an affiliate sale page.

Low Quality Mineral-Based Fuel, Mo-Gas, Impure. Rarity, common. Quality, average. This item currently averages 6 morties per liter on BuyMort and Affiliate Sales. One barrel sold at 999 morties, delivery set for Silken Sands.

I grimaced and looked up at Cole. “This is what we’re trading for?”

“Hey!” Cole shouted. “The stuff burns as well as gasoline. We’re working on our refinery, it’ll be worth a lot more soon,” he pouted.

Cole returned to my side, and I fell into step behind him again with a nod. I had eavesdropped while he spoke to his minions, paying half attention. The man sounded scared to me, all he told them to do was be careful not to make any aggressive moves around my people.

I followed Cole deeper into the bowels of the primary mining building. It was clear the place had been shut down for a while before the Arms Keepers took up residence, and they hadn’t done much to beautify. Rust adorned the metal walls, with gaping holes allowing mid-morning sunshine in some places. There were a handful of left-behind mining equipment and machines, but most of it was pure scrap, and would have cost the company more to move and refit, than to simply abandon.

I wondered briefly why they hadn’t sold it for scrap.

We traveled down a long flight of stairs at the back of the building, behind a locked steel door. Another locked door at the bottom of the staircase, this one significantly thicker, opened onto the armory proper.

The basement was a cavernous room, all concrete walls, and low ceilings. It was also slathered in firearms. Pegboards hung from every available surface, and most of the pegs had rifles in them.

Most of what I saw was AR-15s, unsurprisingly, but there was some variety to the arsenal as well. Some of the pegboard had Barrett model 95 rifles, some had Benelli M1014 shotguns, each in their own sections. Further down was an entire wall of pistol models, with additional crates spread out across the center of the room.

“I’m going to need my head of security down here. Can you arrange an escort?” I asked Cole. Before he could respond, I turned away and pulled up Rayna on my psychic phone. While I let her know we needed to do some counting and organizing, Cole muttered into his shoulder about an escort to the armory for a ‘gray-skin,’ as he called her.

I wandered into the center of the large room, browsing the arsenal, and imagining all the things my hobbs were going to do with the weapons. Toward the far wall, things started to get interesting.

One of the pegboards had grenade launchers hanging from it. Russian RG6 launchers, with bandoliers of forty millimeter grenades. Six of them, in total. Beyond that were two heavy emplacements, covered by garishly blue tarps.

I peeked beneath one, before hauling the tarp off from it entirely. An AGS-30, a Russian grenade machine gun, sat on its tripod on the concrete, with several crates of ammunition tucked in around it. I whistled and moved to the next tarp.

Cole caught up with me and grabbed my wrist. I stopped and turned my helmet to stare at him, before moving my arm forward and pulling the tarp aside anyway. He tried to stop me but was physically overpowered by even my casual movements. Another AGS-30 was seated on the concrete, with more ammunition crates stored beneath its tarp.

“Don’t grab at me, Cole. It’s upsetting,” I said calmly.

“These ain’t part of our deal,” he replied.

“Oh yes they are. You have two. I get one,” I said. “Don’t worry Cole, I’m a man of my word. I’m only taking half.”

“That’s not a gun! It’s a launcher!” he grumbled, indignant.

“Technically, it’s a forty millimeter platform. But that’s a grenade machine gun, which makes it a gun, and I get half your guns Cole,” I said with a small smile. The weapon was so exciting, I couldn’t wait for Rayna’s hobbs to smoke the next Dearth convoy that tried to roll up on our gates.

“We are low on ordinance already, you’ll leave us defenseless,” Cole whined.

I turned and stared at the cavernous room we were in, walls slathered in firearms, with crates more in the center. The open spaces where they had sold weaponry already were obvious, but the armory was by no means empty.

“How many rifles you got left, Cole?” I asked. “Just keep it simple, let’s say ARs, how many AR-15s you got left?”

“Five-hundred,” he answered immediately.

“And how many men can you field at any given time?” I asked.

“Fuck off,” Cole grumbled.

“I’m not trying to get tactical information against you Cole, I can walk over the top of you by myself anytime I choose to. But I didn’t see anywhere near five hundred men up there, you’ll be just fine with two-fifty instead.” I spoke dismissively, looking around the room more. Each new place I looked seemed to have more treasure for me to appreciate.

“Not the point,” he grumbled, his eyes narrowed and low.

“Yes it is, Cole. You’re planning for a future you don’t have the food to reach with this stockpile. You should sell what you don’t immediately need and provide a better life for your people with the funding,” I said. “Or . . . you could just join my affiliate.”

“Cold day in hell,” he said plainly. Cole had checked out of the conversation around the time I physically overpowered him. Everything since then had been sulking.

“Might makes right, isn’t that the way, captain?” I asked. “I’m the strongest game in town, and I’m the only one going after your real enemies. You saw us out there. Compared to you, we’re practically gods. No one here can harm me permanently and that’s a fact. Aid me or get the hell out of my way and we’ll be fine but stand between me and what my people need with force again and I will put you down. Is that unclear in any way?” I spoke casually but faced him directly and stared into his face with my reflective helmet.

Cole blinked several times, studied his own face in my helmet’s surface, and finally shook his head and grumbled, “I understand.” He did not speak further until Rayna arrived, at which point he moved aside with her escort.

Rayna nodded appreciatively as she moved through the room. When she arrived she nodded at me and gestured to the walls around us. “This must be their church.”

Cole and her escort glared at the alien woman, but I nodded and laughed. “Closest thing they got, I’m sure. We need to do an inventory.”

Rayna nodded. “I have the numbers for what they have up top, will get started down here now.”

“Hey, woah! Personal arms too?” Cole shouted.

“No, Cole, calm down. I don’t want your cursed guns anyway, those things are only useful to the idiot that over-customized them,” I said, waving dismissively at him. To Rayna, I said, “exclude their personal arms Rayna, just what you see down here please.”

She nodded and went back to work. The hobb opened crates, walked the pegboards, and checked every box of ammunition before she came back to me. “Good haul boss. Two-hundred-and-fifty rifles, twenty snipers, three launchers, fifty-five shotguns, three-hundred-and-nineteen handguns, and whatever that is behind you.”

“Sounds good to me, let's get it loaded and leave these people to bury their dead,” I said. Cole and his companion glared at me, but I ignored them. I had meant it, I didn’t want to be there anymore than they wanted me there, and I could still hear the grief and pain in the voices above.

It didn’t matter if these guys were dumb, or aggressive, even if they were kind of monsters. They were people, with families who had loved them, and would now have to deal with a horrible world without the people that had made it better for them. I was glad we didn’t have to kill as many as we had originally planned, especially after learning more about their situation.

It really shouldn’t have surprised me that they ran their affiliate incompetently. I worked with Rayna, her hobbs, and Jada to get everything loaded. Phyllis didn’t bother helping, she was on guard duty against fascist attack, as she said.

I also tried to help them move the pallets of yarsp meat, as my enhanced strength gave me the ability to move each pallet by myself, but they rejected my help pretty hard. There was a lot of shouting and pointed weapons when I got too close to a building, so I backed off and let them do their own heavy lifting.

Once the meat was unloaded, the guns and ammunition in the truck beds in its place, we turned to the issue of fuel. Cole’s men were rolling out four oil barrels, which sloshed heavily with liquid.

“So you make this stuff on-site? We’re not putting your people out, taking this much at once, are we?” I asked.

The bearded man narrowed his eyes and glared at me for a long moment before he blinked, shook his head, and said “no, we’re fine.”

“Imagine it must be tough to figure me out, from your position,” I sighed. “But look, Cole. We’re both humans from this planet, which is now mostly dead. There’s less than a billion of us left, in under a week. We need to rally together, not be killing each other over space bacon and metal.”

He didn’t respond, merely stared directly ahead.

“Look,” I continued. “I’ll make you a deal. Very simple deal. You don’t kill my people, I won’t kill yours.”

“I never killed any of your people!” He grunted.

I shrugged. “Yeah, well. Nobody expects competence from you guys, but the attempts still count. It ends here. I’m feeding your people from here on out, so you make sure they don’t keep trying to kill us. That’s your job, here, now.” I finished by offering him my outstretched hand. “Peace between us. Or death. Those are the only options, and I know which one I prefer.”

Cole stared at my outstretched hand, before he shook it once, and let it drop. “Understood.”

“Good enough. How long will the meat last you?” I asked.

“Few days,” he grumbled.

“I’m not fishing for intel, you fuckin’ goon. I’m trying to make sure your people don’t starve.” I turned to one of the trucks, as it was getting ready to leave. “Fuck you for making me kill your men, Cole. Seriously, fuck you for that. That blood is on your hands for being a moron as much as it’s on mine for being a monster. Blame me all you want, but know it makes you a coward to avoid your own responsibility. Face up to your shit and join the rest of the world in the fight to survive.”

The trucks were all loaded, and Rayna had them beginning to move out, with escorts watching the nearby militia members. None of them looked particularly happy, but I did see more than one eyeing the pallets of yarsp meat, and I could smell that it was already being cooked somewhere nearby.

“Be back with more in three days, captain!” I shouted, before grabbing the side-view mirror of a truck and stepping onto the running board.

I thought over the whole interaction and hoped it had been enough. Because if they attacked me again, I’d crush them into the dirt.

Literally.

Chapter 19

One hobb drove each truck, while the rest walked escort, guarding the precious cargo, and watching the militia closely. Phyllis and Jada stood guard at the gates, following behind after all our people were out.

The militia immediately began securing their property again, pointing rifles and watching us leave. We did a slow roll at first, but then our troops all piled into the trucks, and we started moving faster.

Phyllis trotted alongside us, her mech jogging to keep up.

Our convoy made it as far as the main road out of Prescott before the Dearth Conglomerate troops caught up to us.

They had a convoy of their own, with a hovering air escort, that swooped toward us across the desert as soon as they were in view.

There were six primary vehicles, unlike anything we had seen from them before. They were low to the ground, ran on four globe-like wheels, and each had a gunnery station on the roof. The vehicles reminded me of armored personnel carriers, but much smaller and lighter, in solid black with blue trim, Dearth’s colors.

A seventh, aerial vehicle hovered overhead. It was kite-shaped, with large side wings that could pivot near the conical center. Two large, multi-barrelled guns hung from the wings, with a thick, green glowing cable attached to each.

I was still hanging off the side mirror and running board and changed grips to haul my highwater blaster around my shoulder. I still had six MIRV shells loaded in the magazine.

“Phyllis!” I shouted.

She looked up and noticed the convoy. The mech whined as it picked up speed, giant steel feet clanking across the desert. Phyllis veered into the desert toward the convoy and raised her gun arm to point at the flying escort.

The vehicle swung in low and flared its wings, targeting Phyllis beneath it. The dirt beneath it swirled and gusted as it came in low, and vibrant green pulses of energy lanced from its undercarriage guns toward Phyllis.

Rayna shouted orders in the truck cabin beside me, and the Hobb drivers all picked up speed. One of them ripped the tarp off our new grenade machine gun and got to work getting a box of ammunition loaded onto it.

I swiped up my still active com channel with my security chief. “Rayna! No! Get the convoy out of here!” I pointed to the road ahead.

Both roads joined in the nearby distance, and the Dearth convoy had timed their approach to fall in behind us. I clung to the rear view mirror as our convoys both picked up speed again and struggled to take off my bull ring. Once it was tucked safely in my bag again, I summoned the breaker gauntlets and leapt from the doorway at the road’s convergence.

Hitting the blacktop on my feet at that speed seemed like it might be too much for my sandals, so I flopped onto the road and grabbed at it with my metal covered hands. Sparks and chunks of blacktop flew as I gouged a pit across the road and ricocheted into the ditch on the other side.

I stood, suit tendrils whipping in a cloud around my body, as the first Dearth vehicle hit my freshly dug gouge at seventy miles an hour. It flipped, tumbling away in the distance, and I stepped into the hood of the next one, slamming my fist into it and activating the atomic breaker ability.

The vehicle’s front end caved in, in a series of waves, as blue light erupted all around us. I was sent flying again, tossed down the road in front of the convoy. As I tumbled to a stop, using the gloves to brake against the blacktop, I saw our hobbs escaping into the distance, toward camp.

I got up again, painkiller dulling my senses as the suit worked on me frantically. The cartoon starfish appeared again, dancing on the hood of the destroyed vehicle that had hit me. The rest of the strange, armored cars in the convoy braked hard, and drove to encircle me.

Orcs, Nah’gh, and hobbs all emerged from within, manning the gunnery stations atop their armored vehicles. I whipped my head between them, and they opened fire as one. Explosive shrapnel fired out of the four weapons, shredding, and burning my exposed body, and ripping through my clothing yet again.

I roared in pain as my torso and major internal organs were blasted away, fragment by fragment. Then I choked, as blood replaced air in my lungs, and I went to a knee, desperately trying to hold the breaker gauntlets in front of me. Several fragments struck my helmet, causing red warning flares to erupt from all sides.

A shard hit my advanced helmet perfectly, sinking in through the translucent metals and webbing thin cracks across my vision. The vehicles slowly circled, keeping up their concentrated fire. My suit deployed at maximum, hundreds of tiny tendrils whirling around me in a storm of activity.

I slumped, falling to my hands and knees, rocked by endless shrapnel fire. The mid-day sun glowed in all the cracks in my vision, and the red warning flares pulsed regularly through my entire being. I realized I hadn’t taken a breath for too long, when my vision started to go black around the edges.

As my vision was failing, I realized the cartoon starfish would likely be the last thing I saw before I died, begging me for more charge, and scolding me for not being careful enough.

Phyllis and her mech arrived in the melee, ramming a truck from the back, and lifting it violently. It tumbled away, slamming into the ditch, and she fired her plasma cannon at the next.

“What would you do without me, Tyson dearie?” she crooned, as the Dearth APC slagged in a heap of burning metal. “You’re essentially helpless on your own, you know.”

New lung portions were installed, and I took a deep, rasping breath. “Shut up and kill ‘em Phill.” I garbled around a mouthful of blood. The turbine ejected gore and shards of metal as the suit worked in a frenzy, patching up my many wounds, and drawing shrapnel from my body.

The flying craft was in the near distance, smoking in its own crater. I’d been so busy getting shot that I hadn’t even heard it go down, but it had also damaged Phyllis.

Her mech was covered in scorch marks, melted armor plating, and holes in the structure. Phyllis had her helmet open to see, it was partially melted from the plasma bombardment. Her gun arm seemed to be working fine, though it too had badly damaged armor plating. The other arm hung limp at her side, melted through on top of the shoulder. Her back was also covered in slagged portions and holes in the armor.

Life coursed back into me as artificial blood filled my veins and flesh foam was slathered in place where it was needed. I stood from behind my ninety-three year old friend and roared, clanking my gauntlets together before I started running toward the nearest vehicle.

Phyllis ducked down in her mech, giggling, as flak filled the air again. She carefully aimed, spun up her plasma cannon, and destroyed the vehicles one at a time.

Gunfire erupted from behind us, and I took a few more rounds through the chest, staggering in my charge. Coughing and choking in annoyance at my brand new lungs being ripped apart again, I raised the highwater blaster.

Four Dearth mercenaries had survived the crash after Phyllis hit them, and they used the ditch and wreck for cover. More rounds splashed through me and pinged off the parts they couldn’t, and I collapsed as my knees were shot out.

From the pavement, I roared in anger and fired the blaster. My MIRV shell sparkled in the air as it flew, before erupting in fire and death. The explosions set off the Dearth vehicle, and the entire ditch went up in a gout of concussive force and oily flames.

Phyllis grunted behind me, and I turned to watch her cut into the other overturned vehicle, the first one I had stopped with my hastily created furrow. Nobody was shooting at us from it, as the entire front end and roof had partially caved in when it crashed, but there was a persistent voice calling for backup and emergency medical services. The voice sounded human, and female.

It cut off abruptly when Phyllis sawed through a portion of the overturned vehicle with her plasma torch. I collapsed in the road while tendrils swarmed across my body. Painkiller, pain, and dulled sensation took me, and my mind detached, seeking comfort in Molls.

Her soft, warm skin and scary, exciting smile. I found myself smiling more around her just in the hope that she would smile back. In the distant sunlight overhead, I could nearly see her beautiful, reptilian face, until Phyllis stomped into view and stared down at me.

“What’re you doing?” she asked, as ash from her joint tumbled down onto my cracked helmet.

I sighed and sat up, the moment lost. My tendrils finished their work, and I looked down at my brand new knees. Hairless and miscolored, awesome. I was also mostly nude again, the attack had shredded my clothing.

“Feeling sorry for myself,” I mumbled.

“Yeah, you should. Really got your ass kicked back there,” Phyllis said with a laugh. She spit out her joint stub, after drawing one more large breath from it. I had to wonder at her lungs, and what the machine had been doing to them to allow her this much use. “Plus, now you look ridiculous, dearie.”

I frowned at her. We stood in the epicenter of a battlefield, the ruins of bodies and vehicles alike littering our immediate vicinity, and my sandals were shot to pieces. It felt like most of my lower legs were brand new. My crystalline colonies felt weaker than ever down there, but they had a massive, strong population centered in my forearms. The rest would come and go with injury, but I made a point of protecting my forearms, after what the yarsps had done.

“Been in a lot of fights already today, Phill. Don’t pick another, please.” I grumped, picking at my silk shorts.

“Oh very well, your highness. Don’t mind my observations and suggestions. I’m only your bodyguard, for some odd reason,” she huffed. Her face receded inside the mech, and returned a moment later, holding up a small, clear bag full of joints. She produced one with a purple tip, nodded to herself, and then reached a large metal hand in to carefully grasp it, before offering it to me.

“No thank you Phill,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “But if your mech is still working, I’d love a ride home.”

Phyllis pushed up to peer out of her compartment, looking over the mech. Her arms and upper body were much stronger than before. She also had somewhat fewer wrinkles and was no longer wearing her glasses.

“Huh,” she exclaimed. “Explains why the other arm ain’t working. I suppose I need some time in the shop, then. Sure, climb on board.” Her mech turned and knelt down, so I used the recently formed holes in her armor as hand and footholds, gripping it securely as she stood back up.

“On board good and snug, dearie?” Phyllis asked.

I worked my feet into the slagged holes in her armor I had chosen, making sure I had a good, but loose and comfortable grip. “Yeah, Phill. Hold on.” I turned, took in all the smoking wreckage and bodies behind us and said, “BuyMort, I’d like to sell all the battlefield salvage, and any bodies. Through the affiliate, directly to The Dearth Conglomerate, Arizona branch.”

A positive reply pinged from my app, which I swiped closed as I focused on Phyllis again.

“Thanks for the save, by the way Phill. Didn’t mean to stop you from giving me good advice, before. Just,” I paused. “It’s a lot today.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen. We need better armor. You more-so, but I could do some further upgrades myself. I get half the morties from that salvage,” she said.

The mech picked up speed, moving from a walk to a jog, up to a trot before it leveled out. I was alright if I kept tense, at that speed. And Phyllis deserved a cut of the scrap sale, I had no problem with that when it came in.

She continued talking, redirecting my attention again.

“You’re vulnerable Tyson, and they know it now. You shouldn’t have told the hobbs to leave, they were going to help us.” Phyllis said, yelling back into the wind.

I scowled at the back of her mech and said nothing.

“You can’t do everything on your own, dearie. Your suit may make you hard to kill, but I can think of a few ways to manage the task, so I’m sure your enemies can too,” she continued.

“I can’t let the hobbs get killed,” I shouted back.

“Not up to you, they will at some point or another. Trust me on matters of death, Tyson. I ran with a resistance cell when I was fourteen. You’re going to lose some soldiers, fighting a war like this. Save those you can, but you nearly bought it here because you sent them away,” the old lady shouted.

Her voice was significantly stronger than it had been a few days ago, I was sure of it.

“What should I do about it then?” I yelled back.

“Keep doing what you’ve been doing, dearie, it's been working so far. Just bear in mind you may have casualties you alone may not be enough to prevent. Not only does Dearth know how to incapacitate you, but they also know you’ll throw yourself on a grenade for your people too. They will use that against you.”

I zoned out, thinking about what she had said. Perhaps I could use that against Dearth. If Garthrust had survived, which I assumed he had since I hadn’t been billed a billion morties, he was doubtless talking.

What did Dearth know about me?

The longer I wasn’t crushed, the worse their response was going to get. Especially with the space elevator in place.

They didn’t want riffraff in the area.

“Thanks Phill! You gave me a good, bad idea!” I shouted, patting her mech.

She ignored me and continued trotting toward home.

Chapter 20

The salvage came in, and I used my eyes to navigate the app.

Purchase: Vehicle scrap, Dearth APC D1A. Rarity, common. Quality, poor. 402,963 morties dispensed.

Purchase: Vehicle scrap, Dearth APC D1A. Rarity, common. Quality, fair. 921,112 morties dispensed.

Purchase: Vehicle scrap, Dearth APC D1A. Rarity, common. Quality, bad. 72,341 morties dispensed.

The personnel carriers ran the gambit in price, based on how damaged they were. The highest quality was the first, which had merely crashed at high speed. The rest we had pretty severely destroyed in the battle.

A handful of bodies were present in the sales sheets, mostly Orkreshi. A few hobbs and humans were mixed in, as were two Nah’gh. The prices on them were variable as well, but each was worth a few hundred morties at least. Surprisingly, the Nah’gh were significantly higher priced than the rest, netting our affiliate a cool forty thousand by themselves.

The only item that really caught my eye was the last one on the list.

Purchase: Vehicle scrap, Dearth in-atmo Glider D4C. Rarity, common. Quality, poor. 6,874,004 morties dispensed.

Damn, the glider had been even more profitable than the hover tank. We made just over twelve million morties total. I swiped a healthy portion of that over to Phyllis, giving her five million. Having her upgraded and combat capable was definitely in my best interests, as well as the interests of my affiliate.

Selling Dearth their own dead back anytime they attacked me felt dirty. But it also felt good, until I noticed there were no weapons listed in the sales sheet.

Dearth was sending out their guys without their best weaponry, specifically to avoid me getting the money from selling them at their over-inflated prices. They knew I was selling them back their own men and equipment, and didn’t care at all, even adjusting their strategy to limit my benefit from the sales. Dearth knew exactly how to fight me.

Thinking about that brought my mind back to the most recent battle. Those APCs had known exactly what to do once they encountered me, exactly how to overwhelm the suit and stop me from being able to fight back.

Twice in one day, I had been incapacitated by overwhelming, repeated damage. Another suit upgrade became an important item on my ever-growing mental to-do list. I needed to keep Dearth guessing, because next time we fought, I suspected they would have a counter for Phyllis too.

As she pounded down the blacktop with me stuck to her back, wearing rags, my mind festered on our enemies, and how we could survive them.

When we arrived at Silken Sands, it was to a series of heavily armed hobbs on the walls, with a mounted grenade machine gun at the top of the main gates. I raised an arm as I rode Phyllis’ mech inside. “Hi everyone! Hey, drop me off at the barn, Phill. I gotta find some clothes.”

She nodded and turned to the storage area, slowing to let me drop off. My tender new feet stung a bit at the landing, but I ignored it and waved. “Thanks!”

I headed straight into the barn, looking for the stash of clothing we had bought from Leachim along with all the furniture. It was tucked away behind a massive amount of food, primarily bushels of wheat and baskets of mixed vegetables.

Rayna and Tollya followed me inside.

“Boss! Boss, you okay?” Rayna shouted.

“Yeah, Rayna, back here!” I yelled back. “Just looking for some pants.”

I found a pair that fit after some rummaging in the general piles. Brown tweed, but I was past caring. Genital coverage was genital coverage, and it came with its own belt. I moved to the shoes next, searching for a size twelve anything.

“What happened, we clear?” Rayna asked, pushing her way past a wall of wheat.

“Oh, sorry, yeah nobody followed us home. Phyllis and I took care of that convoy but be ready for another one.” I looked up, holding a pair of dull, olive colored boating shoes. “Oh yeah, what can we do about air protection? That little glider would kill a lot of people if they sent more of ‘em at us.”

“They will. Can shield buildings, if have enough morties,” Rayna said. “New hobbs coming. Many want to join BlueCleave. Word getting out about this place in Storage. About fighting Dearth.”

I blinked. “Wait, we’re famous in Storage?”

“Yes,” Tollya said, stepping in front of Rayna. “Boss that fights for soldiers. Use morties to make homes. Bring water, food. Good food. Life in sunshine! Boss that care. Boss that not like Sada.”

I winced, staring at my shoes. “Well. You guys can have the residential block underground. All yours.”

Rayna paused, as Tollya’s eyes widened. “MortBlock have?” Tollya asked.

Rayna shushed her and moved past, pushing at the other woman lightly. “He no understand. Not MortBlock have.”

I shook my head. “I do not understand but would like to know what that means.”

Rayna stared down at me, and I became self-conscious about sitting on the floor. “Some affiliates, usually big, rich affiliates, allow MortBlock ownership of areas within greater MortBlock.”

“So what? Like, you would own the apartment, within the grounds that I already own?” I asked. I finished tying my shoes and stood up.

“Yes, some allow a locker, or a shelf. Most lower level affiliates do not offer any, though. It is a risk. Not knowing everything in every home, can create security breach,” Rayna answered.

I thought about it for a quick moment. “I approve of that for any hobbs you clear, at an apartment level. Shelves and lockers for everybody else, as long as you think we can trust the camp.”

Rayna blinked her huge eyes rapidly. “Yes. Yes, I think we can. The people here tired and scared, but good people. This bring many more hobbs.”

“Good. We need a literal army. As fast as we can get them.” I started walking to the exit, but Rayna stopped me.

“Wait boss, need to change settings on MortBlock,” she said.

Rayna flipped her hand up into the air, and a moment later we were in a very familiar place. The darkness of Clippy’s multidimensional internet space was all around us, the eternally happy avatar’s mouth smiling as wide as I’d ever seen it.

“You came back! I mean, there are so few of you all now, it's just so good to see your face! Can I be useful? Can I?”

I grimaced. Rayna prodded my shoulder roughly. I knew this was a mental projection, but I felt the pain of it anyway.

“Do MortBlock, Tyson,” she said.

“I see that you are changing the settings on your MortBlock!” Clippy moaned gratefully. “May I be of assistance?”

“Yeah, sorry Clippy. Just been busy.” I chided. “All about the timing. Anyways, I need to change my MortBlock. I want to allow Mortblocks within my Mortblock.”

Clippy did a flip and soared through the air. “For a processing fee of 1000 morties, as well as an overlay fee of another 1000 morties, I can start the process!”

A map of all of my territory appeared before us. It was a little hazy in places and not as detailed as I would have liked, but it was definitely usable. I almost asked for better definition, then realized that would cost extra morties. Everything always did. I had the morties after that huge salvage haul, but this was good enough.

I reached out to the map. “I want all shelves and lockers within living spaces made available for independently owned mortblocks. I want people to have their own personal space.”

I choked up a bit, realizing the import of the task. It seemed like such a simple thing, but what I was really doing was emancipating my people. Giving them their own freedom to sell and buy, store and just actually own their own stuff. Molls would be proud.

My eyes shot to Rayna’s large orbs and I saw it in her eyes too. She knew very well what was happening here.

“You good leader, Tyson. Good person. Thank you,” she said, stepping forward to the map to help guide me through the interface, while Clippy zipped and zoomed about us.

It looks like you are creating new MortBlocks within your MortBlock. Is this correct Y / N?

Together we clicked yes.

For the next few minutes, she walked me through how, and I manipulated the menus attached to my MortBlock. They popped up in my usual BuyMort interface, and the block itself seemed to just be a chunk of stylized polymer. A very important paperweight.

As I was leaving the barn a few minutes later, Axle pulled up in the golf cart, waving at me. Behind him, in the background, goblins swarmed the former sites, building up the huts into a proper single story apartment complex.

Axle saw me staring and nodded with a grin. “Nice, huh? I’m having central air run into it as well, it’s a little hot here for most species most of the year. Come, come with! I’ll give you a tour! I think you will be pleased.”

Chapter 21

I shrugged and walked around the golf cart, getting in on the passenger side.

“Ooo, that looks nasty,” Axle said, pointing at my cracked helmet. “I can help you with repairs or replacements if you like.”

An ad screen rose in protest, perfectly blocking his face from my vision while the words PREMIUM REPAIR AND PROTECTION — OUR SERVICE IS GUARANTEED boomed into my ears. I winced and waved it away.

Axle looked at me and grinned. “Yep, BuyMort will do that to you. It doesn’t brook any competition. Anyways, I don’t plan on charging you so BuyMort can go eat trash. You want me to give it a look over and see what I can do?”

I snapped my fingers and reached for my magic sword, Falcor. “Yeah, actually. My sword has been acting weird since the delves,” I said, drawing the blade. It slid easily from the scabbard and showed no signs of any dull patches. The entire blade appeared fuzzy at the edge, just as it had been when it was brand new.

“Huh,” I said, staring at it. I didn’t dare try its edge on anything in the golf cart, so I stuck the tip of the sword into the dirt at our side. It dug a tidy furrow, with almost no drag or resistance translating through the grip.

“Well never mind, I guess,” I said with a shrug. “Working perfectly now.” I sheathed the sword and grumpily sat back.

Axle glanced over at me, as we entered the still-under-construction residential portion of the camp. Goblins swarmed all over the twin structures, slathering and stacking mud-crete.

“Is that a ‘magic’ sword?” The Knowles' voice dripped with sarcasm as he said the word magic, and I looked over at him.

“Yes?” I said, uncertain. “At least, that’s what it said it was when I bought it. Don’t think I particularly believe in magic, but it does act magic. It’ll cut anything, except my starfish suit.”

“Ah, yes, I’ve heard of those weapons. I can take a closer look at it later, but my initial assumption is that it’s plain iron, with installed atomic projectors to sharpen the last few micrometers of the blade to a molecularly fine edge, and aid in the destruction of whatever is being cut,” Axle said. “The delves had personal shields, which would disrupt and misalign the atomic projectors on your sword. Keeping it sheathed should self-repair the projectors, and the sword should work fine again in a short period of time.”

The Knowle shrugged. “It’s not magic, because there’s no such thing. But it is effective marketing, there exists an entire subsection of the BuyMort populace who openly believe in magic because of products like that.” Axle shook his head. “Disgraceful lack of product knowledge.”

I looked out over Happy Trails pointedly and he grinned, his canine teeth baring out from under his lip. “Yeah, well, point taken. But they should learn all they can if they want to continue to survive.”

I nodded, though I didn't necessarily agree. Asking every individual to know every single aspect of space and science seemed a bit much. Better to work together and have experts help advise us on the ins and outs of this BuyMort multiverse and its goods.

Plus, honestly, I was just happy to have the mystery of my broken sword behind me. As long as I was more careful with it, it seemed like it would continue being useful. And now I knew to avoid shields with Falcor.

“So there’s just plain no magic at all?” I asked, mildly disappointed.

Axle scoffed and smiled. “There’s no evidence for magic being anything but marketing tricks combined with advanced technology.”

I nodded, frowning in my broken helmet.

As the golf cart cruised into the apartment blocks, I noticed a new structure, tall and spindly, with a bulbous top. Just behind the residential block stood a new water tower made of mud-crete.

“What’s that?” I asked as we drove past it.

Axle glanced over and nodded. “Oh that’s our new d’jhz tower. They’re very easy and cheap to get constructed, and they help with large scale goblin construction projects. Cuts down on costs by allowing d’jhz purchases without bottles, and keeps it all in one dependable place, which makes distribution much easier. Simpler to defend too, if needed.”

"D'JHZ WHOLESALE PREMIUM — SUPER CHEAP, NO HASSLE!" another ad screamed at me. I threw that one away as well.

"'Nother ad?" Axle asked eyeing me sympathetically.

"Yep," I affirmed. "BuyMort seems kinda desperate today."

"Yeah, the algorithm sometimes does that. Usually once someone is starting to become more self-sufficient. Just keep ignoring them and they will lessen somewhat."

I shrugged and nodded. “Sounds good to me. Yeah make as many towers as you need to. We have these gobbs running around all the time these days.”

“Indeed,” replied Axle. “The tower will also ensure a decent supply, should the d’jhz market turn too expensive.”

He pointed ahead of us, at the end of the apartment complex. A modest opening in the ground was visible, and our gobbs were building a mud-crete support structure.

They were building a box out of thick mud-crete pillars, each connecting to create a basic cube shaped support, over the hole in the ground.

“Once that is done, it’ll be the basis for our first three elevator designs. Won’t need to make structural changes to it for a while,” the Knowle said. He pointed with a claw as the golf cart eased to a stop.

“There’ll be a top bar of steel across the middle, with reinforcing mud-crete structure on both sides. The first elevator we install will be very simple, hand operated. But the additional metal structure we install later today will ensure we can afix a powered elevator here without needing to bring back a major construction crew,” Axle explained.

More ads screamed by. I felled a dozen in a single swat. That would probably go through BuyMort or an existing affiliate, but no need to let the AI know that yet. Let it sweat.

I nodded slowly. “That sounds great, thank you Axle. What else you got for me?”

“Well,” he said. “Not all that much yet, it’s still quite early. The extra apartment in the spider ranch is not a problem, I have a crew working on that now. Drusk appears to be quite helpful in that regard, I have him managing the gobbs. He’s familiar with goblin handling protocols, a very useful skill. Saves us a hobb, and we’re short on those today.”

He frowned, the expression nearly comical on his canid face. “I suppose I could show you the waterworks, it’s nearly done.” Axle pressed the accelerator pedal, kicking the golf cart back into motion. We cruised down the line of gobb workers.

The little green creatures worked diligently, but I saw more than one of them standing and staring at the d’jhz tower, clutching their personal bottles. The apartment complex was really beginning to take shape. Each individual unit had curved walls around the entryway, ensuring privacy and extra security.

The buildings were being built around the existing mud-crete huts. The gobb workers were adding walls, expanding rooms, and increasing the general footprint of the structures. Each hut was becoming interconnected with the rest in its line, and several large, multi-room living units were being constructed.

My human population was mostly out and about, walking in the sun or watching the little green men running around their new homes and wondering when they were going to leave. I imagined the constant construction was a significant downside to life at Silken Sands, and wondered when the complaints were going to start rolling in.

Axle waved a huge, shaggy arm at a mud-crete mound being erected near the south wall. “There it is. The waterworks.”

My new waterworks appeared to be a simple dome, built over the old well. A door was evident, as were several recently dug trenches exiting the building and snaking across the desert toward the other structures.

“I’ve got water nearly up and running to every residential structure being built, the spider ranch, and the medical portion of the underground. Most of their piping was in good order, I used the Fumble-Bees to do the scouting. Very useful device, we should keep it charged and in use as often as possible,” Axle said.

“Oh. Uh, yeah, Quadrum shorted it out when they arrived,” I said.

“Well, we’ll need to replace several dozen bees, they appear to have been permanently lost when our beholder guest helped contain our Sleem. I suspect those drones were in the Sleem cavern below, when it was sealed and filled.”

Axle got out of the cart and approached the new waterworks dome.

“But no matter. This waterworks will still act as a simple well if needed, or if the piping becomes damaged. But now, your home, and most of the others, have easy access to clean drinking water.”

“Can I take a shower?” I asked.

“Of course. I took the liberties of installing a hot water heater left here by Leahcim, as part of our original furnishings shipment,” Axle replied.

“Oh, we should purchase another of those," he added. "The new people are very short on furniture, and clothing. The yarsps came before they could get most things packed, and apparently Tollya promised them you would take care of it.”

I nodded. “I’m glad she did, probably kept them focused on their grow equipment, that was much more important. How much for another two shipments?”

Axle swiped at the air in front of himself and added an order to the affiliate’s cart. “About half a million morties, give or take. I chose a large order, as I suspect we are looking at more growth, assuming Dearth doesn’t get us first.” His eyes went wide as he remembered something, and he snapped his claws.

“Did you get the weaponry?” The Knowle asked.

“We did. It was ugly, but we did,” I answered.

“Any of them left standing?” he asked.

I snorted lightly and shook my head. “Yeah, most of them. They have fuel production capabilities, and a persistent need for food.”

Axle moved back to the golf cart and crammed himself in the seat. He fit but had to scrunch down his neck to be able to see. “Sounds like a match made in heaven. With the yarsp attacks each morning, we should have more than enough to feed them.”

“I’m ending those attacks tomorrow, though,” I said, brow furrowed. “I worry about our own food after that.”

“Why end them?” Axle asked simply.

I scowled at the ground, thinking about his question. The creatures were dangerous, for certain, but profitable. Even just their chitin everyday could pay my entire staff if we kept collecting and selling it, and now that we had more hobbs coming, with plenty of guns to get them equipped, it seemed to be in our interest to keep the yarsps around.

“My original plan had been to hit them for the bounty. Dearth is willing to pay five hundred million morties for their bounty tag back. Jada tells me this is an abnormally large number of yarsps to encounter,” I answered, after a long moment.

“Indeed. There must be a ready, and extremely large supply of meat nearby,” Axle replied. “Yarsps are carnivorous, aside from all the soil they consume while digging. The size of a hive is always in direct correlation with its supply of meat.”

“Huh,” I said, frowning. “Based on the numbers we’ve already seen, how much meat do these yarsps have access to?”

“Tons. At least two tons per day, to support not only the numbers and losses we’ve seen, but the sheer growth of their hive after each. The queen of this hive seems nearly unfettered, simply breeding as much as is possible,” Axle said, turning on the golf cart again.

As we pulled away, I glared at the ground. “Could it be Dearth, feeding them to overwhelm us?” I finally asked.

Axle drove toward Phyllis’ place, and I saw that her mech was already hung from its dock station, tiny robotic arms working to repair and replace any portions of slagged armor.

The Knowle nodded. “It could be, but I rather doubt it, based on the bounty. While it is certainly not impossible for an affiliate as titanically massive as Dearth to mix up their priorities and place a bounty on their own project, I don’t think so in this case,” he said.

We pulled into my driveway, heading between the privacy mounds to my place, where gobb workers swarmed, amid a hobb overseer who turned away as we approached. It looked like Hord.

Axle stopped the cart in front of their construction zone, and I looked at my place. I could feel a bubble of pride rise up in my chest.

Dearth was going to probably wipe us out in a few days. The smart move right now would probably be to run for the hills. But, no, this was home.

This was a place worth dying for.

Chapter 22

Mel was behind the gobb workforce, sitting with Cube and drawing in her notepad. She had the door open and was ignoring the gobbs that ran around a few feet from her.

The girl seemed strangely calm, possibly because she was armed, with a Glock in a holster attached to one thigh. She sat comfortably, leaning back in the large wicker chair, with one leg crossed casually over the other, her foot bouncing as she sketched.

As I watched, Cube suddenly shouted, “HUNGRY!”

Mel jumped, but quickly reached down into a bucket at her side and produced a small cube of yarsp meat. She placed the little chunk of meat in her outstretched palm, and I watched the sentient block of metal extend its long tongue to slowly wrap around the yarsp meat and drag it back into its mouth.

The process repeated a few times while Axle and I watched. Eventually, after a few chunks of the meat, when Mel offered Cube another, the little box simply turned away from her. He began purring, facing the gobbs and their activity.

“Hey, I thought that thing ate radiation? How come he’s helping use up our yarsp?” I asked.

Axle took a breath, nodding. “They primarily consume radiation for nourishment, but Cubes opportunistically consume other material as well, namely meat mixed with inorganics, like metal or composites. An increase in this behavior usually coincides with a growth spurt, I would expect your Cube to become larger soon. I’ll make a new platform for him.”

I hesitated, fully expecting BuyMort to bombard me with another serious volley of ads to compete with Axle's offer. When none came, I nodded, looking back to the working gobbs. “Okay, sounds good. Means more power for us, right?”

“Oh yes, significantly more. Fortunately, most Cubes tend to create a symbiotic relationship with their power output, and do not overwhelm it unintentionally. Once he upgrades to his secondary stage, his power output will far exceed our needs and uses,” Axle explained.

I thought about it for a second, nodding, before I asked, “can we store and sell the excess?”

Axle puffed out his canine cheeks in an amusing expression. “That is not impossible, but the margins on selling empty batteries versus full batteries are usually quite negligible. We would already have to be producing and selling batteries on a significant scale for that to be worthy of the infrastructure costs.”

“So perhaps someday, but not right now,” I said, getting out of the cart to stretch.

“Yes, exactly. I’ll keep you posted on any uses for his waste power, but for the moment, I will dig him a ground he can use to safely discharge any excess,” Axle said as he got out of the cart. “In preparation for his upcoming evolution. You should be prepared, I have heard it can be quite messy.”

I balked. “Messy? Messy how?”

Axle dipped his snout. “Ah, unfortunately that part is unclear, I have never seen it myself.”

“Well, okay then. Thank you, Axle, most of that sounds good. How safe is Cube to be around for the staff and residents?” I asked, watching Mel and Cube interact. She was able to lightly scratch his surface too, producing the same growling purr from him that Axle could produce. I became jealous and looked away, instead staring into the distance at the space elevator.

“For the time being, very safe. I would avoid allowing his second phase to be near children or small animals unattended, but Cubes are also much more open to external influences in their second phase of life. It is not impossible to train them,” Axle said, drifting a little toward the end when he saw me staring into the distance.

“Ah. Yes, the Dearth elevator is quite impressive.” He joined me, clasping his paws behind his back.

“How much does something like that cost to install this quickly? It’s only been five days.” I said.

Axle blinked. “Trillions. The installation tells us this is the center of Dearth’s entire operation on Nu-Earth. It is a massive undertaking, and the elevator itself was likely brought in from another location, through the Jupiter gate once it opened. I cannot imagine the BuyMort transport costs on such an item over any sort of distance.”

The Knowle squinted and shielded his eyes from the noon-day sun, staring over the nearby mountains at the glittering cable. “The Dearth Conglomerate moved into Prescott after the Sleem and yarsps cleared it of life on day two and began their assembly of the base. After that, it was merely a matter of expert piloting and planetary alignment. With it in place, they stand to make septillions from this planet. I was part of this without being allowed to know anything about it, that was a huge factor in our decision to leave.”

The Knowle watched me staring at the elevator in the distance. “Why are you asking me this?”

I sighed and shook my head. “No reason in particular, Axle. Just working on a plan to deal with Dearth.”

He shook his head, shaggy fur drifting side to side. “If it involves that elevator, I must warn you it will be guarded well. Better than a handful of low-paid mercenaries with conventional equipment. Much better.”

That got my interest. “Guarded by what?”

Axle blinked and shook his head. “I cannot say for certain, I was a very minor cog in Dearth’s Arizona machine, and that was for a very short period of time. I know they have planetary goals, but Jada and I were not even aware of the elevator, and we worked in their Prescott division. We heard rumors of specialist Dearth bodyguards, brought in to work with the Arizona board for something important. The elevator must be it.”

“I have a bodyguard too,” I offered.

Axle grunted a laugh. “Yes, indeed. Phyllis is a mighty combatant, but you can expect equivalent threats from Dearth.”

“Yeah, they almost got me today, on the way back. If not for Phyllis . . .” I let it drift, Axle understood what I meant. I simply stared at the space elevator.

It was the key, somehow.

“Well, let us return to Silken Sands,” Axle eventually said. “And the additions we are making today.”

I nodded, taking a deep breath, and turning away. The Knowle pointed up at the second floor of my home, where gobbs scrambled around working to install a wide, glass door.

“Your greenhouse and first floor additions should be completed according to specifications soon. If you would like, I can aid you in ordering some plants for the room, once it is complete,” Axle said.

I smiled, and finally removed my helmet. “Thank you, Axle. I would appreciate that. Is there anything else?”

The large Knowle nodded. “Two things. First, the underground residential area is cleaned out, and all the bodies are stacked at the entrance to Quadrum’s area. We will need to work with the beholder in order to dispose of any bodies, but I intend to get the Sleem feeder pipe installed at the same time. I would appreciate a guard with experience killing Sleem.”

“I want to see what Quadrum has done in experimentation, anyway. Let me know when it’s time, I’ll join you,” I said.

Axle turned his head to smile at me. “That would be appreciated. Quadrum is unlikely to allow many others in their space, so that would be ideal.”

“Yeah, I’m not even allowed to refresh my MortBlock in that part of the facility. Just have to hope the darn thing isn’t building a bomb or something,” I muttered.

Axle laughed again and shook his head. He looked around to ensure no gobbs were nearby and spoke under his breath.

“If a beholder wanted your affiliate gone, it would take very little effort on their part to make it happen. Something about your Sleem is unusual enough to invite Quadrum’s genuine interest. I could feel it when they touched my mind.”

“Well, that’s not comforting. Think the Sleem are still a threat maybe?” I asked.

Axle immediately shook his head. “The Sleem may be a top ten affiliate, but they’re extremely predictable. At the rate our freezers are filling up, we have a robust population in the cavern below making full use of the pipe we installed. Once we’ve worked through the orbs and cubes that will naturally leave the chamber first, to attempt foraging, we will be left with nothing but freshly born slimes. Those are the best for sales, by the way, but also extremely stupid.”

He finished with another shake of his head. “There are some things that are not known. With Quadrum, many. With Cube, a few. With the Sleem? There are none. The Sleem have been part of BuyMort longer than most of the rest of us, according to what records we have. I do not think they will surprise us.”

I nodded slowly, chewing on the inside of my lip. “Okay, I’ll take that as encouraging.”

“If they were to escape, our Fumble-Bees would alert us. I have those that remain patrolling the camp, and underground. Any Sleem they discover would be red-flagged to an alert for myself, Rayna, and you,” Axle said.

“Okay, thank you.” I stopped and frowned. “Hold on, you said two things. What was the second?”

Axle grimaced, before he put his hands on his hips and looked down at his feet. “I do not mean to overstep, but Jada insists you will be open to a specific proposal.”

I frowned and narrowed my eyes but said nothing.

“We were hoping you would support a Knowle library, as part of your affiliate,” he said.

I blinked, my frown deepening. “Sure, why wouldn’t I?”

Axle brightened. “Well, most affiliates do not care for them, they tend to bring visitors. That can be a security risk, if not managed. It is often an expense that does not provide many short-term morties in return.”

I nodded. “Ah, that makes sense. Yeah, I don’t care. If you guys want it, and it’s a good thing for the people here, I’m happy to have it be part of my affiliate. I don’t have the funding for it right now, is all. We have security needs to be seen to first.”

Axle shook his head insistently. “No, of course not. I intend to build it all myself, with my own morties. I have enough to add it onto this gobb construction queue, I merely need permission for the space.”

“Of course, no problem. How much room do you need?” I asked.

It was Axle’s turn to grimace. He bared his teeth briefly before answering. “A single acre would suffice for the final project, but for the start any small area of fifty feet squared would be fine.”

“Oh, that’s bigger than I thought. A whole acre for a library?” I replied.

“It would be the library and grounds at that point, but yes. Conservatively, an acre for a completed Knowle library would generally be the minimum. There are a great many terminals and upload stations needed at that size, the flow of knowledge can become highly sought after,” Axle said. He got a dreamy look in his eye as he spoke, and I nodded when he finished.

“Well, there’s at least an acre between my privacy mound and the barns, you could have that area.” I paused and thought, then added, “or Mr. Sada’s old lot, that would work nicely too. I think that’s roughly an acre.”

“The new people seem to have designs on that area, I would be happy to take the space behind your home. Thank you very much. This library means a great deal to myself and my mate. Someday, I hope it will mean as much to all Knowles,” he said, wistfully.

I shrugged. “Probably. If we survive the week, I’ll wanna know how it’s going. I like libraries.”

“Oh it will take a great deal of time to accomplish the renown all Knowles hope for, but my heart swells to be able to begin the work,” Axle said, still smiling. “And Jada’s reaction when I tell her, I’ll have to make sure we’re at home.” His tail wagged at the thought. I ignored it.

“Right, I’m glad to help, seems like a worthy goal. Anything else I should be aware of? How’re the Sundew folks settling in?” I asked.

Axle shrugged. “Nothing major, all projects are under-way and on schedule. Slightly over-budget, with some additions I suspected you would approve of, but we still have nearly a quarter of a million morties available in the construction fund.”

He took a breath and sighed, putting his hands on his hips. “I don’t have much to report on Sundew’s operation yet. When last I checked, they were moving equipment into place and parsing out the land above the escape hatch for crops. I believe they intend to claim that area, likely by asking you for it soon.”

“Hey, if they’re gonna use it to grow food, it’s all theirs. We need a lot of that, and fast. We’re feeding the militia now too, in exchange for mo-gas,” I said with a shrug.

“Mo-gas? Unfortunate, that’s a bad trade,” Axle replied. “Very low quality combustive fuel, but it should serve in the vehicles. If we have enough of it, Jada will likely concoct a defensive weapon from it, but for now I will prioritize our vehicle fleet. Our own remaining supply, siphoned from the other tanks in the parking lot, was what got you there and back today. It is good you found something to replace it.”

I sighed and smiled. “Limping is better than nothing, I suppose. And the trade was mostly for the guns and ammo we took. That should shore up our defenses significantly.”

I snapped my fingers.

“That reminds me, I gotta ask about shields for our buildings? We got hit by a,” I paused to pull up my sales page and be certain of the name before continuing, “Dearth in-atmo glider, a D4C, on the way back. Really shredded Phyllis’ armor before she took it down.”

Axle’s eyes widened as he pulled up the affiliate sales page. “Against our mud-crete, they won’t send a plasma glider, we’ll probably get hit with an E4C instead, they’re equipped with explosive ordinance. Standard Dearth security protocol when dealing with mud-crete fortifications. We’ll need to install at least some form of basic radar, but we can combat bombing runs with the Fumble-Bee hive, after some modifications to their software. I strongly suggest purchasing more drones, before Dearth realizes our trick and leverages the markets against us there too.”

The Knowle panted, staring at the space elevator in the distance for a moment. “For now, I think that is what we should do. Early warning will be critical, we can get everyone below, and simply rebuild any structures that are lost. The gliders Dearth likes to send against minor threats like us are not likely to be well armored, yet. The more we shoot down, the more our fund to combat them will grow.”

He cocked his head to one side. “Your thought about shields is good, but I seriously doubt we will have the funding for anything like that anytime soon. Those systems are expensive on the best of days, and for a new planet, that market will be aggressive with pricing. On the other hand, fumble-bees and shock wave barriers are cheap. I will make some adjustments to the spider ranches cover, it is being installed currently.”

I nodded and stared into the distance with him. When I looked back down, I noticed Mel was drawing the two of us. I huffed and frowned.

It wasn’t a big deal, but what Rayna had said to me earlier about being ‘boss’ first and ‘Tyson’ second struck a chord. I had to start thinking about my image as the camp’s leader, and wistfully staring at the natural beauty of Arizona, pondering the horrific intrusion of an alien space elevator wasn’t how I wanted my people to know me.

I sighed and turned away. “Axle, you can head off, I’m gonna crash for a bit, then go check on Lee and his people. After I get that radar setup, of course.”

“Of course,” he said.

Molls was in her car window behind him, peeking through the blinds at us and smiling.

I waved at her, she motioned me over, and the blinds snapped shut.

Chapter 23

“Call if you need me,” I said to Axle as I left. I jogged over to the car and sidled around to the front passenger side door, opening it to hurriedly get in.

I’m a desert animal. Sunburns never bothered me after the first couple of years in Arizona, and I fell in love with the heat. Something freeing about it, but the heat I felt when I slid into Molls’ den was too much for even me.

I waved a hand in my face and turned to smile at Molls, as sweat popped out on my brow.

“Hi, Tyson. I don’t have long, my second deposition starts soon, but I wanted to see you,” she said.

I reached an arm out to lean on the center divider. “I’m glad to see you too.” An image of her in the sunlight above me flashed through my head, followed closely by the roar of multiple flak cannons ripping me apart. I shoved it away in my mind. “Did you need something?”

Molls slid her tail out from beneath her body and draped it across my arm in a familiar, possessive gesture. I enjoyed the contact and stared at the rattle on the end of her long tail, bouncing it lightly with a fingertip.

“Nothing in particular. Being around you helps me feel more confident, and I could use the boost before my deposition, that’s all,” she said with a smile, staring at her tablet.

Her giant, beautiful green eyes flicked up at me and her smile widened. “Plus, a little physical contact isn’t exactly unwelcome. I think you’ll find that I’m quite affectionate.”

I grinned and ran my hand along the length of her tail, lightly caressing her scales. “Can’t say I dislike that thought.”

She met my eyes as I leaned over and lightly kissed the skin on her tail just above the hard rattle tip, my eyes never leaving hers. A deep purple began to spread across her scales, and Molls surged forward across the seats. She rested her elbows on the sides of the separation in the sweltering car and caressed my chin with one hand.

Her eyes lidded, her lips parted, she took a breath, and I leaned forward to kiss her. My favorite kind of kiss is the kind where you can feel their smile on your lips, and Molls was grinning. Her clean, slightly sweet scent filled my nostrils, and I let go, lost in our shared gesture of intimacy.

Until the tablet in her lap buzzed.

Yellow replaced the purple in her scales, and Molls pulled back with a gasp. Then, while reaching for her tablet, she looked back up at me and grinned sheepishly.

“More of that soon?” she asked, a coy, small smile on her lips.

“Much more, and very soon,” I said. I reached for the car handle to slip out but quickly kissed the spot above the rattle at the end of her tail once more before popping the door.

The October sky hit me like a wave of cool water, and I gulped in a breath of fresh air as I shut the car door behind me. I had just had my first kiss with an alien snake woman, on the same day I murdered my own boss.

The implications swarmed my mind as I returned to my own place, but I pushed them aside when I saw Hord staring at me, fear clear in his eyes.

He had been managing the gobb work crew, but my presence was a clear distraction for the hobb. I approached to talk to him, and Hord stumbled backwards, turning to flee around the other side of the mud-crete house.

“Hord!” I yelled. “Please, come back.”

A moment later, he slunk back around the corner of the building. The hobb’s head would not lift, and he stared at his own feet instead of meeting my eyes.

“Hord, what’s going on with you?” I asked, gently.

“Nothing!” he barked. “Hord good worker. Hord work gobbs.”  The hobb kept his hands together, firmly grasping one with the other. He wasn’t even wearing a sidearm anymore.

“Hord, you’re okay, nobody is mad at you. I know you’re a good worker, you’re one of our best. You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

He nodded rapidly. “Hord good worker.”

My mind flashed back to the darkness, the confused hurt and fear glimmering in his eyes as I stepped into Mr. Sada’s home.

“Is this about Mr. Sada?” I asked in a low, quiet voice. His face flashed in front of me, panic on his lips, wild doom in his eyes. I felt a spurt of bile threatened to rise from my stomach.

“Mr. Sada die in dream storm,” Hord instantly barked. “He have nightmare, I try to help, but building fall on him. Not Hord’s fault. Hord good worker.”

Hord had been the closest to him, after myself. They spent a lot of time together. I could see sadness and dejected failure in his eyes. It hurt. I’m sure that it shone in my eyes as well.

I raised a hand to stop him from repeating the clearly rehearsed words. “It wasn’t his world, Hord.” I shook my head sadly. “He didn’t belong here. All we did was let him move on. Hopefully to a place where he does belong and where he can do coke all day while yelling abuse at his underlings.”

It was still all so clear in my mind.

“You alright, son?” Mr. Sada asked, again, so many years ago in the pouring rain. I stuffed the memory away again, gazing at the distraught man and feeling his emotions pour through him.

“What can I do to help you feel safe here, Hord? Would you rather leave? I’m not going to hurt you.”

The hobb took a deep, shaking breath. For a moment I thought he was going to cry. If he did, I was afraid I might as well.

Instead he shook his head, drawing himself up bold and stout. “Hord good worker. Mr. Sada die in dream storm. He have nightmare. I try to help but building fall on him.”

I waited to see if he would add anything else, but he turned his head away, scanning the ground for anything that wasn’t me and refusing to meet my gaze. “Okay, Hord. I’ll leave, you just keep being a good worker.” I took a few steps away before turning to leave. “I’m sorry, Hord. You’re a good hobb, you don’t deserve this.”

“Sada not deserve this,” I heard him grumble.

True to my word, I walked away, to the top of the nearby privacy mound. I pulled my helmet back on as I went. A bloodstain in the sand caught my attention when I reached the top, and I stopped to stare at it.

The vein-scorpion on the first day. It felt so long ago. Like it happened to someone else.

Someplace else.

The still air of the desert roiled in front of me, spiraling into words and images.

MISS THE DAYS OF YORE? WONDER IF YOU WILL EVER AGAIN EXPERIENCE THE JOY AND LAUGHTER OF YOUTH, THE DAYS OF NO WORRY AND PARENTAL LOVE? WHY NOT TRY GLORY DAYZ, THE BRING YOU BACK AND PUT YOU UP DREAM INDUCER GUARANTEED TO LET YOU LIVE ALL OF YOUR FINEST MOMENTS.

USING GLORY DAYZ, ONE MUST SIMPLY SELECT A FEELING, TIME, PLACE, OR PERSON, AND VOILA — AWAY WE GO! 50,000 morties, 4.3 stars

I rolled over the words, letting my tired eyes ride over the cascading images of fathers throwing their children into the air, of mothers running with their gaggles of children alongside the wave-worn beaches of some faraway place.

Where would I even go with such a product? Flashes of Mr. Sada ran through me and I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the ad to go away. No. Whatever was going to happen, I’d rather do it while forgetting the past. They were instances from a different world, and all that reminiscing would do is make me sad . . . and get me killed.

The ad wasn’t useless, though. If ever I needed to recollect something, or if maybe some memory were somehow stripped from my mind, I knew where I could turn.

Unless it was this memory of this product here and now.

I turned that revelation about a little in my head and bared a rueful smile. There really wasn’t any winning in this bold new world, was there?

I opened my eyes and dismissed the ad, then stared out over the desert sands, lost in thought. How the hell did a slackass loser like me end up the boss of his own kingdom? Was I up to the challenge?

I gazed over the apartments, walls, clumps of people milling about, and envisioned Molls coiled up in my old car, wrapped up in the warmest things she could find, hiding from her own church as Dearth encroached ever closer on our borders.

It really wasn’t a question of if I was up to the challenge. I couldn’t afford to question. This was the here and now and truth be told, I had to be.

Chapter 24

Axle was in the distance, walking in a square with his measuring twine, and using rocks to lay out where his new library was going to start. I briefly wondered what the hell that would end up looking like but remembered my immediate security goal.

I needed to set up some detection. Radar or whatever its affordable multiversal equivalent would be.

In the corner of my sight rose an installation. It looked to be a building not unlike an air traffic control tower, its many window panes shining brightly against the desert sun. Next to it a bizarrely shaped antenna forked up out of the dirt, its ends then curling out in eight separate but equi-distant directions.

I peered at it curiously, trying to suss out its sudden appearance. On cue, music blared. The American national anthem. I swung my head about, seeking its source. And then it dawned on me.

It was another mother-fucking ad.

VISUAL CONTROL ON LAND, AIR AND SEA. LAAISEA DETECTION ARRAYS PUT THE FINGERS ON YOUR ENEMIES. SEE THEM THROUGH HEAVY CLOUD COVER. OBSERVE THEIR APPROACH THROUGH DARK AND MURKY SEAS. PINPOINT EVERY MOVE THEY MAKE THROUGH FORESTS, HILLS AND MOUNTAINS AS THEY PLAN THEIR ASSAULT.

BUT THAT’S NOT ALL.

SPEED SCHEDULES. REDUCE STACKING. ASSURE POSITIVE TRAFFIC CONTROL AT EVERY AVENUE! WITH LAAISEA DETECTION ARRAYS AT YOUR DISPOSAL, YOU CREATE MORE LAND, AIR AND SEA TO TRAFFIC THROUGH.

150,000,000 morties, 4.9 stars.

That was steep. I’d expected something a lot cheaper. But I had to admit that the station sitting there now surrounded by some sort of glowing energy field looked as impressive as it looked bizarre. I bookmarked it as a future possibility, then actively began to search out other solutions and proceeded to find myself astonished. Even basic world war II radar installations were selling to the tune of tens of millions. Everything was well out of our price range.

I idly walked across the desert toward the parking lot as I continued to browse, quickly giving up hope of any solution. This was another area Dearth appeared to be price manipulating, to keep equipment like this out of my hands, confirming the impending attack.

In a brief moment of anxiety, I pulled up the affiliate page and was relieved to see the church tag still in place. But it was only a matter of time before it dropped, and then Dearth was free to attack us directly.

And without some kind of early warning system, people would die. I sighed as I realized who I needed, before shaking my head and pulling up the option for Clippy’s virtual ad space. The middle of the desert between my site and the storage barns was not exactly ideal for a nap, so I kept walking.

Once I was inside the nice cool barn, seated comfortably on one of the remaining couches, I dove into Clippy’s space.

The animated paperclip was hovering around his orb of ads again and did not notice me until his countenance turned toward me as part of his rotation. Then his features lit up and I felt the weight of his behind-the-veil presence.

Clippy felt like an anglerfish, with a bright cartoon paperclip for a lure. I shrugged it off and waved, as the bizarre cartoon swung toward me.

“Wheee!” he exclaimed, zooming by to circle me. I hated it when he did that, it felt like sharks in the water.

“What can I help you with this time, friend?” Clippy asked.

“I need help acquiring some radar for my affiliate, and I can’t afford any of the options I’ve found,” I said, eyes narrowed.

Clippy swirled in the air around me, moving quickly enough to hurt my neck if I tried to follow him. “Oh wheee! A problem I can solve!”

“Stop circling me!” I finally shouted to the air.

Clippy pulled back, as did the heavy presence behind him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I can solve your problem though!” He calmed and hovered near his orb.

“When one cannot afford a product, perhaps one can afford a service in its place,” Clippy said.

I narrowed my eyes. “A radar . . . service?”

The cartoon paperclip nodded rapidly. “Services are not products and products are not services, but sometimes they can do the same, be the same, help the same!” Clippy spoke rapidly, becoming more and more excited as he went.

I waved a hand to stop him. “Okay, thank you, please show me a radar service.”

Before I had finished speaking, Clippy tossed an ad from his orb at me, and the ad-space went dark.

From the surrounding darkness, a faint trumpet began to ring. From its direction, light began to glow, exposing a beautiful, but alien, desert landscape. Cactus shapes jutting from the desert’s jet black sand reached for the sunlight.

The music swelled as a large, winged bat flew into view, swooping low over the desert cacti.

“Hi! I’m Morbin!” The bat flew into frame, long locks of black hair sweeping back in the wind around his face. The creature’s nose was oversized and piglike, above a mouth filled with spikes of pointed teeth.

His ears were gigantic, and ribbed. Several slopes and gradients built into the cartilage structure, creating a horn shaped funnel into Morbin’s head. The bat creature twitched his ears, and a wavering visual effect rippled across the still-dark desert. Shapes of reaching, twisted cacti and long sweeping dunes were exposed in faded lines of light and sound.

“I can meet any sonic based reconnaissance and defense needs for your affiliate,” Morbin said, flashing the camera a toothy smile. “For an affordable, negotiated price. Contact Morbin Freelancing today!”

The ad crashed to a close with a final swell of music, leaving the affiliate name and a picture of Morbin’s bat face, with the advertisement line; it’s Morbin time’ beneath them.

I pulled up my phone in the ad-space and called him. The phone looked, felt, and operated exactly the same as it did in the real world, and the bald headed being in it nodded at my request, before turning into a tunnel to connect us.

A moment later, he answered the phone with a high pitched squeak that was simultaneously difficult to properly hear, and painful.

“Oh sorry, hi. Human, huh? You from Nu-Earth?” Morbin asked. His voice carried a faint accent reminiscent of eastern europe before BuyMort.

“Yeah, I run an affiliate in Arizona. We need radar, early warning against aerial attack,” I answered.

Morbin blinked his black eyes. “Arizona? I know where that is, that’s right in the middle of Dearth territory. That who’s attacking you, I assume?”

I nodded. “It is. We have defensive means, we just have no early warning system.”

“And Dearth has been buying up all the radar, so you need a service instead of an item. My rate for taking on top ten affiliates is five million, per week, up front. Non-negotiable add-on to the rest of my rates,” he said, casually. “Crossing top tens is not something I do for free, but the service you’ll get is top notch. I can literally even do my job in my sleep, I’m really just that good. It’s worth the morties.”

I ground my teeth at the price, staring at the creature on the screen. He was seated, wings folded over his broad, muscular chest. The alien bat simply stared back at me.

“Agreed,” I said finally. “When can you start?” With the Sleem farm upgraded, and the extra morties we got anytime we fought Dearth directly, I figured we could afford it. Besides, it wasn’t like I was in any position to argue or negotiate.

“I’m already on my way, Tyson Dawes of Silken Sands. Should be there by tonight, but I’ll need something rather specific to stay in. Do you have construction available?” Morbin asked.

I nodded. “We do. Some new structures are being built right now. I’ll add on whatever you need. Can you send me the instructions somehow?” I froze, a deep scowl on my face. “Hold on, how the hell did you know my name? Or my affiliate?”

Morbin grinned, his pointed teeth gleaming yellow in the light. “Only one fool fighting Dearth on Nu-Earth and winning. You’re getting famous, mister, turn on the television sometime. Might find yourself on a who’s who list.”

That was mildly unsettling, but I ignored it as I got a notification letting me know his schematics had come through. It was a roost. Morbin required a sophisticated bat box, with dimensions that made me wonder what size he was. The box was required to be dozens of square feet around, but only a few feet tall. It was also required that the roost be at least twenty-five feet off the ground, on stilts.

“You get the schematics?” Morbin asked.

I nodded slowly, still looking them over. Mud-crete was on the list of approved building materials, which made me grateful, as that market hadn’t been weaponized against us quite yet. “This won’t be a problem, I can have my crew assemble it before tonight. Roughly when are you arriving?”

Morbin reached a long wing with tiny claws up and to his side and slid a panel on the nearby wall open to reveal the darkness of space. Outside of his window, a red planet could be seen, with a trail of twinkling ships in lines around it. The alien was on a ship, using Mars to slingshot toward us. The largest line of ships visible in the window was behind Morbins vessel. “Should be there before nightfall, according to my manifest.”

The background around him was lit somewhat by the red planet in the window, and I could see that Morbin was seated in what looked like an oversized commercial flight seat.

“Oh, okay, thank you. I’ll see you tonight then, I suppose,” I said.

Morbin nodded and smiled again. “Get your affiliate ready for Morbin time.” He disconnected, and missed the grimace on my face when he said it.

As the call vanished, Clippy returned, swooping in toward me from his orb. “Did I help you solve your problem?!”

I frowned, and started nodding. “You really did, Clippy, thank you. Work on that bedside manner, I’ll catch you next time.”

The animated paperclip, and the entity hiding behind it exalted in joy. It was palpable, and Clippy started whirling in circles near the top of his orb, shrieking in exaltation and excitement. The presence behind the veil seemed to swell, and become manic with excitement.

Chapter 25

I left the ad, and the ad space, to get my newest employee’s roost built, and get away from Clippy. The instructions for the roost were simple, I just needed to hand them to Axle and get them added to our construction bill, since mud-crete was an acceptable substance to the strange bat-like creature that would soon be living in the air above us. I made a mental note to warn the ravens. The last thing I needed was two of my aerial contractors in a fight.

The barn was peaceful, cool, and dark, so I sat for a long moment and wondered if I was ever going to get used to Clippy. Each interaction was so jarring, but he always cut straight to the core of the problem and helped solve it. He was much faster than before too, helping the remnants of humanity interact with BuyMort’s advertising system must have been good experience.

Axle was right where I left him, fretting over his new library. A single gobb worker was assigned to the project and was slowly building a mud-crete shack with no door, as my Knowle operations manager was nitpicking every inch of it.

The goblin happily took a break and sucked on his bottle of d’jhz while I spoke to Axle. The Knowle blinked at the description of the new building and cocked his head to the side more than once but agreed that the natural radar our new associate would bring to our affiliate was an excellent choice, given our limited options.

With that accomplished, I found myself with the strange sensation of being without an immediate task. I stood in the desert and watched Axle torment his goblin, building the strange little shack of a library, but soon grew restless.

I was worried about Molls, and anytime I thought of her I glanced at the affiliate page to see if we still had church protection. It didn’t seem worth much, but at least they hadn’t directly hit our base because of it. The people under my care were vulnerable here, and I was glad to see Axle taking his mate’s more tactical advice when choosing our constructed upgrades. I felt like we needed the added protection.

Included in the gobbs updated construction list was another boost to our walls, an extended lip, and six foot deep, mud-crete reinforced trench around the entire camp instead of just Mr. Sada’s old lot. Jada was assembling her gobb crew to go dig the trench as I passed through, idly walking the camp.

Rayna was nowhere to be seen, but Tollya was still managing the weapons stash. A section in the new storage barn was going to be used as a small armory, but until it was complete Tollya distributed the firearms throughout the camp for safe-keeping.

At each section of the wall that changed direction, a modest guard tower had been built from mud-crete, with heavy locking doors. They now served as temporary armories, under hobb guard. Tollya had several crates of weapons and ammunition stored at the main gate as well, and she kept a watchful eye on those herself.

The hobbs paid closer attention to the gobbs than usual, and with how many were running around, I couldn’t blame them. Our new weapon caches had to have been appealing targets.

In the distance, the space elevator rumbled as a massive, donut shaped ship ascended on it. A smaller glint of light caught my attention, as it flashed over the Prescott national forest.

The shape of a flying craft became evident as I focused, and with a shock, I realized it was on a bearing for our camp.

“Tollya!” I shouted.

The hobb snapped alert, her eyes narrowing as she looked where I was looking and saw what I was seeing.

“Raid!” She shouted. “Everyone cover now!”

The campground exploded into motion. Hobbs ran, barking at gobbs and humans alike, getting everyone under some kind of mud-crete cover. People screamed, and the broad winged vessel streaked by overhead. It dropped a bright green ball the size of a compact car, and the thing bounced when it hit.

It splashed thick jelly, and rubbery foam tore loose as it bounced across the parking lot into the residential area, coming to a violent stop against one of the units under construction.

I grabbed my highwater blaster and primed one of my final MIRV shells as I ran toward Tollya.

“Dearth bombed us!” I yelled. I ran up to the strange object and skidded in the residual glop in the street. It was rubbery green foam, coated with thick, viscous jelly.

“No! Not bomb! Something else!” She yelled.

I stopped, arms pinwheeling as I fought to stay upright in the slick, uneven stuff. Tollya saw my struggle and moved to avoid the puddle of glop, walking carefully around its edges. A small crowd of goblins and humans started to form around us, as more people became aware that it wasn’t a bomb after all.

“It’s a pod!” Tollya shouted. The hobb woman tore foam and rubber away, exposing a thin metal carapace. I carefully walked through the street to the other side, where an open door was evident.

A woman limped down the residential block away from the pod, and Tollya pointed at her. “Hobbs! Surround!” she shouted.

The woman was in rags, and through the rips and tears in her meager clothing, a heavy vest woven with bright orange blocks of something was visible. She increased her pace, limping into one of the nearly complete structures, and shoving a goblin worker out of her way.

I made my way out of the crash landing slick onto solid ground, and we chased after her. A few hobbs converged on our position, having heard Tollya’s shout. Ordo was among them, rifle tucked into his shoulder.

“Boss,” he said, nodding at me. Ordo turned to the other hobbs and nodded at them the same, falling into our formation.

“A woman in rags. I think she has a bomb vest, be careful,” I said, as we pushed into the building behind her. People and goblins were huddled into the far corners of the structure, and one man was pointing toward the door.

A light trail of blood led us through the structure to the new central hallway that joined all of the individual housing units. Tollya went first, I followed immediately after her, and Ordo brought up the rear of our formation.

Blood droplets on the mud-crete led us across the hall to another unfinished unit, where the woman was swiping at the air frantically, while ignoring the shrapnel wound in her leg. Through her BuyMort screens, she saw us enter and shrieked.

She turned and limped out of the construction site, ignoring a jabbering gobb that streaked past. With a pained cry, her leg gave out and she tumbled to the dirt.

More people gathered, at a safer distance this time. A group of hobbs spread out among them, ready to perform crowd control if needed, but merely part of the crowd for the moment.

Ordo circled around the woman, rifle aimed at her. His eyes flicked between me and the woman as I approached, and the rest of the hobbs formed up around us. The few humans and gobbs in the area fled at the sight of us, joining the distant semi-circle of onlookers.

The woman stared up into my cracked helmet, tears streaking her filthy face. She was older than I had expected, in her early fifties at least. Grey hair and wrinkles peeked from the tattered shawl covering her head. Her clothing was little more than rags, aside from a new pair of black boots. They looked like the boots Dearth’s mercenaries had been wearing when they attacked us.

“Please!” She whimpered. “You have to get away! There’s not supposed to be so many people here!”

“Just calm down,” I said, raising my hands. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.”

She shook her head, more tears rushing forward. “I’m so sorry. Send your people away, hurry! You’ll all die!”

I frowned but pushed my hands at the hobbs in the crowd behind us. “Get them clear,” I ordered. They formed up and began gently guiding the people in the crowd further back, pushing them out in the open patch of desert between residential and the wall.

Tollya looked at me, a question in her eyes. I nodded. “You all as well, go. Get back, get clear. I’ll stay.”

The woman cried out in fright and pushed herself across the desert to the base of the d’jhz tower. I turned to see what had scared her so badly, following her gaze over our walls. Several BuyMort pods were zipping across the compound toward us, and she took a deep, shaking breath while watching them.

“It’s okay, you can’t hurt me,” I said, arms raised. “Let me help you.”

“Get away, please!” The woman raised a shaking hand to me, as if asking for my help. “I’m so sor-”

Then the first of the pods arrived, and she detonated.

Chapter 26

It’s strange how much life can sometimes be like movies. One minute the woman was holding out her arms, palms up, sobbing and begging for me to leave. The next she was shredded meat crisping through the air, a sun-bright inferno trailing right behind it. I was only a few feet from her, and the blast launched me across the parking lot, to bounce against the main gate like a gong.

My vision swam and I blacked out, but woke up with a gasp as my suit hit my chest hard with electric shocks from its defibrillator. My whole body clenched into one big charley horse and I screamed, casting my eyes around and trying to figure out what in the exact hell was going on.

The first thing I noticed was more extensive cracking in my helmet’s screen. Tendrils swarmed around me, restructuring my body as the cartoon starfish peered at me questioningly.

“Head trauma detected user, should I enable cranial repair function?”

I tried to respond but could only manage a series of strangled squeaks. I could hardly breathe. There was a ball of something stuck in my throat, a mass of congealing blood blocking my airway. I convulsed, retching the blood out before I gasped the word, “No!”

My starfish shrugged and started dancing, sliding its feet around in the road. As I focused on it, the scene in the distance behind the cartoon became clear.

Oily black smoke poured into the sky from the remnants of our new d’jhz tower, and BuyMort bugs were swarming from the area. From a distance, they looked like huge centipedes.

The crowd of gathered people and workers scattered, screams rending the air as gunfire rattled and echoed. I gasped as I got to my feet, staggering into a run, and grabbing my blaster off the pavement as I went. Tollya and her squad were at the edge of the residential zone, so I ran toward them.

She hefted her own shotgun and slid on her slitted, metal helmet. “Gobbs broke!” Tollya roared. The tall hobb woman racked her shotgun and pointed it past me, firing into the ground at a nearby charging gobb. The little green man stopped dead, yellow eyes staring at the buckshot blasted into his boots’ steel toes.

Tollya stepped forward and bashed the gobb in the helmet, toppling him before he could decide whether or not to continue his attack.

“Why are they attacking us?!” I shouted. “Is that Dearth too, somehow?”

Tollya scowled at me through the slits in her helmet as she pointed to the gobb and said, “Recall.”

She stepped past me, jogging toward another group of gobb workers from the nearby barn construction area. Just then a blast of plasma scattered them, sending them fleeing in all directions. Running my eyes back to where the shot had come from, I saw Phyllis ambling about, a wreath of pot smoke rolling merrilly out from within her mech suit.

Tollya stopped moving and turned to address me. “What?”, she asked, looking at me as though I’d asked the dumbest question she’d ever heard. “No, they just gobbs. Any excuse to break things and steal, this perfect cover. You deal with bugs, I deal with gobbs!”

Tollya looked away from me, her eyes seizing upon a potential target. Moments later she picked up speed, launching into the middle of a group of gobbs in the parking lot. They were actively ripping apart my already damaged-beyond-recognition pickup truck, until Tollya landed in their middle and knocked out two with a single kick.

“Hobbs no kill gobbs!” She shouted. “Recall! Contract penalties for dead gobbs! Protect weapons and vehicles! Protect mo-gas!”

As I watched, hobbs began engaging the much smaller gobbs in melee combat, only using firearms to frighten or slow them.

My helmet pinged as a rock hit me in the head, my fractured screen showing a vague threat detection behind me. I turned to see a small horde of gobb workers rushing in the open main gate, being chased by Jada.

Several of them were focused on me, and a hail of small projectiles rained down.

None of it harmed me badly enough to trigger the suit, but it hurt. I pulled my ring off, summoned my gauntlets, and raised them to shield my chest and groin. Then I ran into the group and started kicking.

They were little, and I tried to hold back, but I was still getting used to my growing strength. I sent a few of them flying, before I got a good sense of exactly how much I needed to hold back. Jada roared laughter as little green men sailed into the surrounding walls.

“Rescan the block!” Jada shouted over their heads.

I cocked my head to the side in confusion but reached for my MortBlock.

“They’re going to try to sell anything they can, keep rescanning the MortBlock!"

"Why?" I shot back.

"That will prevent them from making sales. If they damage our items enough then the block won't recognize them. We’ll mop up the gobbs, you keep the block on defense!” Her growling voice carried over the shrieks and guttural yells of the goblins easily, and I nodded.

People screamed and ran, and goblins smashed anything they were near, pointing at the remains after and selling them. For the most part they seemed to be avoiding my human guests, but any people alone or separated from their groups were targeted too. The gobbs were indiscriminate, selling anything they could, and pocketing everything else.

Tollya plowed into another group of them.

With each step, she swept a gobb worker off their feet or slammed them to the ground with her shotgun’s butt. More hobbs streamed from the walls to engage the gobbs, and our weapons were surrounded by a group in thick makeshift riot armor, wielding batons that had been part of our admittedly coerced trade with the Arms Keepers.

They had fought us on the launchers, but not the actual melee weapons which weren’t covered by our ‘guns’ deal. I didn’t question it at the time.

I rescanned the MortBlock again and watched the sweep spread out on my cracked mini-map. This would prevent the goblins from selling anything that they couldn’t easily break, at the least. However, armed with their construction tools, and an apparent wealth of experience, they were quite efficient at getting our stuff to BuyMort’s sales requirement levels.

A gibbering goblin sprinted up to me and latched onto my bag, chattering at me angrily. I reached down for him and instinctively flinched when he snapped at me with his needle teeth.

The goblin and I realized I had metal covering my hands at the same time, and he screamed as I grabbed him, catching his mouth wide open.

I tossed the little creature into a nearby wall, and winced as he cracked and died against it. Despite their rebellion I felt a little twinge of sympathy for them. I wondered if the gobb riots were less to do with who they were as a species and more to do with how they were treated.

My thoughts were cut short, though, when the disturbing sound of many chitinous legs rasping together reached my ears. I swiveled to look and felt my jaw drop open. When Tollya had mentioned bugs, this was not what I had been envisioning.

A massive centipede with swollen red antennae scurried from a nearby apartment and I widened my stance, thinking back to my battle with Drusk. Going toe-to-toe with monsters was kinda becoming my thing and I felt ready one-hundred percent ready to do this.

That was up until I actually fought it. I stomped in close and it reared back off the ground in front of me then somehow leapt forward, plopping hard down on top of me and forcing me to the ground before clamping hold of my back. Dozens of its chisel-tipped limbs stabbed into my body as I was shoved into the things underside, where yet more legs stabbed into me for support.

I roared in pain before reaching back over my head to grab the creature and rip it free. Holding it in front of me with my strength-enhanced arms, I gave it a cruel sneer before throwing it back into the flames.

I’ve never been a fan of anything with more than six legs.

It landed with a chittering hiss and rolled up to avoid the fire, vanishing into the thick smoke.

More of the oversized centipedes arrived, scurrying around the destroyed tower. I ran, turning as Ordo peeked around the corner of the building. His oversized eyes went wide at the sight of me, and I realized my brown slacks had been torn mostly free from the front-side of my legs.

Thank Pasta I had the starfish suit’s cup, or I’d have been hanging loose for everyone to enjoy.

Ordo stepped out as I approached, firing in short, controlled bursts. The rounds sparked off the arthropods, causing a reaction from any they hit. The roiling bugs raised their heads and fixated on Ordo, a pulsing red light surging into the tips of their feet and antenna. As one, the glowing centipedes charged the hobb.

I screamed a warning and started to sprint as hard as I could for his location but Ordo’s face never changed. He simply slung his rifle and reached for a grenade at his waist. It was another mud-crete grenade, and he held it after the pin was out, whispering something under his breath before tossing it to explode in the air in front of the charging arthropods.

I stopped my run and turned my head from the brief flash, but I could hear the damage done. The centipedes screeched and hissed as the mud-crete hardened around their limbs and carapaces. I turned back to look just as their noises halted, their eyes and mouths sealed in the stuff.

Nonplussed, Ordo jogged over to join me.

“Damn, Ordo. You didn’t even flinch! Ice cold.”

“Aggropedes no problem. They stupid, boss. Hit them, get attention, they charge you. Always,” Ordo explained. He pointed over to where the next nearest aggropede was busily scurrying toward them, then met it halfway and smashed it with his rifle-butt. The heavy AK stock bashed the bug down to the ground, where Ordo stomped it flat. The armor plating never broke or shattered, but the bug inside it was crushed.

He looked at me as if to say ‘see?’ and I nodded. Point well made.

A scream sounded, echoing up from further into the residential compound, and all around me hobbs responded. I sprinted hard, taking point, running headlong into the next nest of aggropedes. They were swarming an apartment, trying to kill the residents. One man was down already, bleeding from the several stab wounds a constricting aggropede was causing.

I grabbed it, trying to crush its head inside its own armor plating. There was a slight resistance, like the internal structure was meant to protect the delicate brains. Once it caved, the aggropede squished and its limbs relaxed. I unwound it from the poor man, tossing it aside as he groaned and whimpered in pain.

“You alright?” I asked.

He didn’t answer. Ordo slipped to one knee beside him, pulling a first aid kit from his satchel. Meanwhile the remaining aggropedes swarmed into one of the apartment complexes, seemingly intent on chasing my civilians and avoiding my military. Something about that pissed me off, rage rising through me. I charged into the mud-crete building after them, clomping into the hallway before slipping and falling on my ass.

There’s a reason good soldiers don’t charge in red hot and angry, I told myself, shaking my head at how reckless I’d just been. But pulling myself up, I saw that it wasn’t all bad. The aggropedes had stopped and turned to face me. Evidently I didn’t look nearly as intimidating as the rest of my military did.

They were on the walls and ceiling, six of them, doing their best to look as creepy as hell and turning their primary feelers back toward me. I slapped the wall, hard. Small cracks extended through the mud-crete from my palm print, and the aggropedes antennae all became engorged and glowed red, as they raced toward me.

Within seconds, I was wrapped up in angry arthropods, dozens of small cuts from their legs bleeding into the hallway as I lashed out with hands and feet.

The creatures were not much of a threat to me, being unable to constrict around my limbs and prevent my movement. One tried to get my elbow pinned to my side, but I flexed the limb out and tore its legs free.

My suit’s painkiller was flooding my system as tendrils flashed and whipped around the aggropedes. They didn’t even give me much charge, as their flexible but strong armor stayed intact. Merely the arthropod inside was crushed, the soft flesh of which provided little kinetic resistance.

The mud-crete wall had provided plenty, just from cracking it with a hand-print, so I slugged the nearby wall to top up my charge, leaving a neat, fist-shaped dent in the hard, cracked surface. My cartoon danced in the hallway as I fought off the rest of the aggropedes.

They bit me, in addition to the many tiny legs stabbing into my body, but I barely noticed. I just smashed until there were no more of them moving in my immediate vicinity. They were far more effective at killing my people than they were me, a harsh lesson I learned as I walked past a corpse in the hallway.

She had been stabbed in the throat by several tiny limbs and bled out on the floor. I scowled and stormed toward the nearest screams, anger tinting my vision. Nobody messed with my people. I was going to make Dearth pay.

Chapter 27

The sounds of battle had peaked, but it still echoed from around the compound, bouncing off of mud-crete efficiently enough to confuse where some of it came from. I followed a nearer and more definite source, rounding the corner of one residential building to find yet another new monster trying to snuff us out.

It was a massive blob of translucent jelly. Several small dots of light raced around the confines of its body, lighting it up within. A group of my campers were fighting it with a variety of makeshift weapons that included a rake and several shovels, and beside them were a trio of hobbs who busily pumped long make-shift spears through its body.

I calmed myself down, examining it for weaknesses. It wasn’t quite a jellyfish, though its upper portion resembled one a great deal. The lower part was a clear skirt of material, that pushed outward along the ground to attack.

Movement caught the side of my eye and a moment later I witnessed a gobb run by. It tried to snatch a holstered weapon from one of the humans in formation but the man kicked out and knocked him to the ground for his efforts.

The jellyskirt glorped out at the little green man and he was enveloped by the monster immediately. He started jerking with motion as electricity coursed through his body. His mouth shot open wide and bubbles gurgled through the monster, even as the gobb’s eyes burst and his still jerking body was drawn deeper into the beast.

The gobb still twitched with electrical activity, he was just clearly no longer alive or fighting to remain that way.

Tollya arrived at my side. “No fight, Tyson?” In her hands she held a pump-action shotgun, well-oiled and pure black. It was up and ready, waiting for a target. “You injured?”

“I was trying to figure out how to kill it. Is it like a sleem? Should we get some fire ready?”

Tollya shook her head. “Sometime forget you so new. Need hit lights.”

I looked more closely and saw rhythm to the battle stance of my people. They’d circled it, pushing and poking, preventing the jellyskirt from effectively moving while the hobbs tried to extinguish the lights within. But the task was clearly not as easy as Tollya had made it sound, for the lights bobbed and weaved, easily avoiding the piercing stabs of my soldiers.

“Good there!” Tollya shouted. She raised a hand, and the combined group of humans and hobbs turned to stare at her. The hobb strolled right up to the circle, squeezed one eye shut, and fired the shotgun.

The buckshot bounced violently from the jellyskirt’s upper body, ricocheting into the mud-crete at my side. I ignored it and produced my plasma falchion, but before I could turn it on, the creature released a rumbling sound and collapsed to the ground.

The gathered defenders stepped back as sparking liquid rushed from the jellyskirt, flooding out toward them. Beneath the surface, one patch of lights had been struck by the buckshot impact and was no longer tightly clustered. Its points of lights flickered and blinked, as each flowed further apart from the point of impact. The lights inside stopped racing, moving slower and slower as the upper half of the creature slumped to the dirt beneath itself.

“It dead boss, it okay!” Tollya shouted as she jogged over. “I hit in nerve cluster. Last bug if you got aggropedes.”

I noticed for the first time that all other nearby sounds of battle had ceased. With the death of the jellyskirt, the immediate area of my village had gone quiet.

“I don’t know, I think so. They killed somebody back in the hall,” I said, pointing over my shoulder.

“Two out here too, boss. We lose three hobbs too,” she said.

“Six down already, that we know about,” I muttered. “Tollya!”

The hobb woman snapped to attention, staring at me.

“What do we do now?” I asked.

She blinked a few times, shook her head, and pointed behind me. “Clear up gobbs. Bonk and send home, then you redo contract.”

I nodded and thwacked my chest to her. “Thank you, lead that effort. I need to check on Molls and Cube!”

She saluted me back, then turned to bark orders at the hobbs behind her. They scattered, running toward the nearest rampaging goblins as I turned and ran for home.

A flash of memory hit me, and I thought of Axle alone with a goblin worker, in the semi-hidden desert space between our parking lot and my home. The fight was mostly over, but not done entirely just yet. I veered that way, storming up the scrub laden dune to get a better look.

Across the campground, people and hobbs chased small green shapes, BuyMort pods swam through the air, and our d’jhz tower plumed black smoke from its partial destruction. The mud-crete was tough, and part of the tower still stood, slowly dripping thick, milky liquid into the fires below. It could be fixed, but the lives lost stung.

I turned and headed into the desert where Axle was building his library. The area was surrounded by scrub and the occasional Joshua tree, so I couldn’t clearly see my operations manager until I entered the small clearing he was using for his library.

The structure had been partially built, simple as it was. A shelving section was worked into the mud-crete walls, from the floor up, surrounding a singular metal and composite kiosk. The kiosk had a screen, but it also had headphones and several other device compatibility jacks. A gobb construction worker was busily trying to saw through them with his knife, while Axle sat on the ground a short distance away, hands raised in surrender.

I walked over, not trying to mask my footsteps, and the gobb noticed me. He turned, needle teeth glinting as he jabbered something while pointing his small knife. It was an industrial box cutter, with the thin blade extended as far as it would go. The gobb already had the headphones loose, but several of the other cables had been giving him a hard time, based on the visibly ragged cuts.

The little green man barked something final and lunged at me. I ignored the knife blade entirely and swatted the gobb aside. His oversized head thunked against the ground and his eyes crossed as he fell unconscious.

Axle took a deep, shaky breath and stood. “Thank you, boss,” he said.

I narrowed my eyes but nodded. “He get you?”

The Knowle shook his head. “No, I am ashamed to say I surrendered the moment he went feral. The knife brought up unpleasant memories, and I froze.” He glanced inside the partial library and whined in the back of his throat. “Aw, my access point!”

Axle grabbed the headphones from the gobb’s still clenched hand and picked up the other end of the cable. “Oh, this can be fixed. Still, it was brand new.” He turned to face me, saying, “we are witnessing the down-side to goblin construction. They are all pirates, if given the chance.”

I pointed at the gobb on the ground and said, “BuyMort, recall.” Then, to Axle, “We’ve lost six already, mostly to bugs. They hit us with a suicide bomber, can you track that back to Dearth? We still have the church tag, if we can prove they attacked our affiliate directly we may get some help from a bigger fish.”

“Perhaps. I will go assess the damage, once the rest of them are rounded up,” Axle said. He reached in his bag and tossed me a fresh pair of silk pants from the delves.

I grabbed them from the air and tossed them on, before I started jogging toward my privacy mound. “Thank you Axle, stay safe!”

As soon as I got close to the mound, I heard the chatter of frustrated gobbs. Cresting the hill, I saw several surrounding Molls’ car, trying to pull various parts off from it, and struggling to open the doors, trunk, and hood. I charged, bellowing at the little green men to ‘get away.’

A couple did, but most turned to face me as I approached, brandishing various construction tools. Most of the gobbs wore simple tool belts, so each of them had a screwdriver, box cutter, or hammer easily at hand, and the old Lincoln town car had suffered for it.

The only thing that had prevented them from selling the whole thing outright was Molls’ presence in the car. BuyMort won’t take sale of something that is in immediate structural use by another customer, even if there is no valid MortBlock claim on it. The only time BuyMort would do that is if the item in question was MortBlock owned.

I swatted aside the first to reach me, using a casual backhand to send him tumbling to the dirt at my feet. The rest took note of that, and I had to chase down the next two I knocked out before I could recall them to BuyMort.

Molls got out of the car then, slithering hurriedly to me. I opened my arms, and she threw herself into them.

“Thank you Tyson! Thank you!” Her scales were vibrant yellow, and the muscles beneath her skin were trembling. “I hate gobbs!” She nuzzled her head against my throat and chin as I held her close.

“I’m sorry, Molls. I should have seen this coming. Gotten the radar faster, maybe.” I sighed, holding onto her lower back. Her muscles rippled wrong, different from human women, but still recognizable as muscle movement.

She pulled back and met my gaze, the yellow fear in her scales slowly receding. “They attack for any reason, or none, I would never blame you. I just don’t enjoy the memories, I was in a fairly major goblin attack as a child once, on a philanthropic trip to Storage with my parents.”

I sighed and changed my grip on her back, raising one hand to lightly press her shoulders in toward me. She accepted the movement and raised her eyes to my own. “You have a wonderful way of distracting me, I’m forgetting all about the bad memories already,” she sighed.

A scream from my house behind us reminded me of what was happening, and I released the curvy snake woman in my arms with an apology. She smiled at me and turned back to her car, and I ran to rescue Hord, Mel, and Cube.

The scream had come from upstairs, and as I rushed in, I saw the state my new home was in. The wicker chairs were missing, as was Cube’s old stand. My jury rigged oven was bent and broken, the special adaptor and propane tank missing. As I watched, a BuyMort pod zipped in and warped away the oven too, whistling a happy tune as it left.

I took the spiral staircase three steps at a time. One gobb was busy tearing up my mattress, checking the innards for any valuables. He stopped as I entered and brandished a curved, stubby linoleum knife at me. As the goblin charged, I deflected the blade with a forearm and shoved the goblin away.

His body bounced once, hit the far wall, and stilled with a groan. He still clutched the knife, but I left him to go around the wall to my bathroom area. It was a small, cramped little room. Axle had designed it to have a box shower at the end of the tiny hallway, with a small toilet and sink installed beside it. The entire arrangement was tucked into a small area behind my bed.

Hord was in the shower, standing in front of Mel. He was holding Mel’s Glock and pointing it at the gobbs but raised the weapon to me as I walked around the corner. Cube was in Mel’s hands, clutched to her chest. A group of four gobbs were crowded in the tiny room, shoving and jabbering as they tried to reach Cube.

The hobb immediately lowered the gun, but I could see the fear reaction on his face. I ignored the weapon and moved to deal with the crowd of gobbs. I walked through the group of gobbs, throwing them backwards by their collars. The last one managed to stab me with his box cutter, but I ignored the wound. It was minor enough that I barely even felt the pain from it through the cloud of painkiller my suit provided.

I turned to make sure the gobbs were no longer a threat and saw a pile of groaning green men blocking the exit to my bathroom. With a sigh, I told BuyMort to recall the goblin workers and turned back to face Hord and Mel.

Hord had quickly handed the gun back to the girl and was standing with Cube in his outstretched arms. “We protect camp’s power.”

“Good work Hord, thank you. Thank you too Mel, I bet you didn’t expect this when you signed up to babysit today, but I really appreciate it,” I said, leaning against the rudimentary sink. Even that simple item the gobbs had tried to pry the metal handles free from, chipping and scratching the surfaces.

The young woman snorted, securing the snap on her holster. “Didn’t sign up for a damned thing, but sure, whatever.”

She pushed her way past us, kicked one of the gobbs on her way by, and went outside on the balcony.

Chapter 28

“Mel, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s going on between you and the hobbs, but right now I think you’re safest here. We were hit by a suicide bomber, and the gobbs took the opportunity to try and rob the place. Dunno if they’ve all been cleaned up yet,” I said. I joined her on the balcony, looking up into the afternoon sky.

She nodded, staring over the park with her arms crossed. “Is the battle over? Are we safe?”

I considered her words and the context of them. The place we’d been a week ago was so different than the place we were at now. Were we safe? Hell no. But had we ever really been safe? Or had that old world been a fantasy?

“It’s over. At least for us. There are probably a few hold outs being dealt with by the hob — by our military,” I said, amending the last to emphasize the fact that we were in this together. It seemed like something I should do as often as possible given the disparate nature of my affiliated community. “Done enough that I’m here taking a breather with you, making sure you are okay. Are you okay, Mel?”

She paused and in that pause there sounded an explosion followed by several pods zipping up and out through the sky. I sighed. What timing. A moment later I got a buzz on MortMobile with the message, “No worry boss. We almost finish.” It was from Rayna.

“I hate it here,” Mel said. Her voice was little more than a whisper, but I heard her clearly and laughed.

“Ha! Yeah, me too. Hope to have someplace a lot better one day,” I said, still chuckling. She stared at me, eyes fixed like stone, and I stopped after a second. “Look, I don’t want anybody to be unhappy, but you’ve got to think about all of the BS that we’ve been through. All of us here. We’ve survived. Not only that, we also have running water. Hot showers. Food. This isn’t hell. Hell would be a lot hotter.”

Mel's face reddened for a moment, her mouth pursed and very much looking as if it were straining against an unwise tantrum. But then she let out a loud sigh. “I am grateful, Tyson. I really am. I’d be dead without this place. We’d all be.”

I nodded. “We’ve got a good place here and we’ve had a lot of luck. But that doesn’t mean I want you to just shut up and do what you're told. What’s on your mind, Mel? Is there something I can do? I can talk to Rayna about it again.”

Mel kicked at the rooftop idly. “No, it's not her,” she said. The girl stared at her shoes, continuing in a smaller voice, “she’s actually really nice. I just don’t want to babysit an alien electricity monster. Or clean up murder wasp corpses. Or fight murder wasps!”

“But I said everybody has to help out somehow, so the hobbs are making you work whatever jobs come up,” I finished.

She nodded emphatically. “Every time!”

“I’ll talk to ‘em,” I said, quietly. “Is there anything you would be okay with doing around here?”

A crackling blast sounded from Phyllis’ site, and three gobbs ran screaming in the distance, an oversized, stubble-covered Malamute barking happily as he chased after them.

I sighed and shook my head. “Look, think about how you can help to keep the hobbs happy. I’ve gotta wrap this goblins thing up, you stay safe here.”

Hord was lurking in the bedroom behind us, listening but staying out of the way. He still held Cube in his arms. The little box moved its lips into a sneer.

“Hord, good work. Stay here, defend Mel and Cube. You’re doing great!” I shouted as I leapt off the unfinished balcony. Less seemed like more with Hord at that time.

By the time I made it to Phyllis’ lot, the gobbs were long gone. Her plasma cannon had made one of them into a scorch mark on the gravel, and the rest scattered to avoid a similar fate. I could still hear Doofus having a blast chasing them. He loved chasing small things.

There were no gobbs running loose that I could see, so I took a breath and pulled out my phone. We were going to need a doctor.

Dr. Miles answered on the first ring, his face unshaved and overcoat rumpled. He was staring ahead at his desktop computer, glaring at whatever was on the screen. “Dr. Miles, how can I help you?”

“Hey doc, Silken Sands again,” I said with a small sigh.

Dr. Miles looked over at me and narrowed his eyes. “Hey, good, I’ve been meaning to talk to you, and things are a madhouse here,” he said. “How did my team and I get back last time? None of us have any memory of transporting.”

“Oh, uhhh,” I started, trying to think fast. It wasn’t exactly my strong suit, but I gave it my best effort. “There was an attack, you and your team were knocked unconscious by some kind of energy weapon. My team and I recalled you,” I finished with a shrug.

Dr. Miles stared at his computer screen, tapped a few keys, and then shook his head to turn and stare at me. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Look doc, I don’t really understand it myself. You guys were fine and talking one second, on the floor and snoring the next. We were still under attack, so we just recalled you and went to deal with the attack.”

“Ah yes, the delves. That turn out in your favor?” He asked, one eyebrow raised.

I blinked, grateful for the helmet. “We came to an agreement,” I said, thinking specifically of Dro’erja and hoping the doc bought it.

He gave an exaggerated frown and snorted. “Right, with delves. Look, I stay out of noble house fights, don’t worry about me gabbing. But you’re standing, so they’re not. What do you need this time?”

I shook my head and remembered the chaos I had just been through. “Our affiliate was attacked, first bugs than gobbs. We have hurt people, and need a doctor.”

Dr. Miles’ eyes narrowed, and he nodded slowly. “Right. Yeah, I can come help with that, but I have a suggestion.”

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow, and I nodded for him to continue.

“My tenure here is up, it seems. Dearth is scaling back, hard. Nu-Earth didn’t pan out as well as they had hoped, and they’re recalling most of their deployed resources, which means freelancers like me,” he started, leaning back in his chair. “If you can provide me with a security escort, and an office to work from, I’ll come live on site and be your resident doctor.”

I hesitated, unsure that was his entire offer. “For free?”

“No, of course not for free. My salary is four hundred thousand morties per week, to start. You would also need to pay for any supplies I needed to replace, so I would require access to an operational fund,” he said. “I am merely willing to relocate to your affiliate, if you want me as your doctor. For the standard package, housing and food, plus my usual salary.”

I nodded. “Ah, okay. Yeah, we could swing that,” I said, thinking of the treasure stash we still had from the delves. “I gotta say though, we’re like . . . fighting against Dearth. Aren’t you worried about your personal safety?”

The doctor shook his head. He had begun to gather up small items from his desk and deposit them into a box he placed in his lap. “Not any more than I would be working for Dearth. Honestly, the bigger affiliates all start to blend together once you work for ‘em. I also have a bug-out apartment in Storage, so I can leave with a BuyMort beam at any time.”

“A bug-out apartment?” I asked, cocking my head to the side.

Dr. Miles glanced up from his packing again. “I always forget how green new-worlders are. Storage lets anybody port there for free through BuyMort, it only costs morties to port out. I have an apartment I pay locals to keep open for me, in case I need to bug out of an affiliate during an attack. It’s pretty standard for doctors operating in the field, like I do.”

I swallowed hard. “Cheeze, that sounds like a lot of work just to be safe. Why do you want to come live on Nu-Earth anyway? It sounds like you just don’t want to leave with your Dearth assignment.”

Dr. Miles chewed on his lip and stared at me for a moment before nodding. “I’m studying Nu-Earth humans. They’re not like the other humans in BuyMort, and I need to understand why. Also, my family is from Arizona, on my Earth. I wanted to touch those roots, in what way I can.”

I scowled deeply, and was again grateful for the helmet. “Yeah doc, we need you. Get here, and get healing. We’ll sort the rest of it out later.”

He nodded and reached for the device. “I’ll be there shortly.”

“Hey, port in on my security chief’s second, her name is Tollya. She’s a hobb who lives here, she’ll point you to the injured.”

“Got it,” Dr. Miles said, before he closed his phone.

I sighed and pocketed my own, sharing a quick glance with the psychic deity trapped inside. Nothing had bothered me during my phone call, so I assumed the gobb attack was officially over and I scanned the air to assess our situation.

There were no more pods rising up from the camp. All about I saw patrols of hobb soldiers and human settlers marching together, probing the various residences.

On the main path came BlueCleave, our tribe of hobbs, drawn from Storage. They all wore big smiles and carried AR-15s from our militia-supplied armor, yet wore dirty scraps of clothing and carried nothing on their backs. Each of them was quite thin . . . something I wouldn’t have realized before if it hadn’t been for my close work with Rayna and her soldiers.

It was nothing a few yarsp barbeques couldn’t cure. I’d get them into new clothes, good residences, and into the community in no time.

“Boss! Good, you okay,” she said as she approached.

“Are these our new hobbs?” I leaned out to look down the line. There were at least three hundred hobbs in my campground, most of them lined up down our main road.

“Yes, all of them. We should have enough security for anything we need now,” she answered.

“Good. Find Tollya, Axle, and Jada. Tell them I want a meeting, as soon as the gobbs are cleaned up.” I turned on my heel and walked away to go find Lee and check on the new people. “Staff meeting! Gobbs first. Staff meeting right after!”  I shouted to no one.

I walked the long corridor between the campground and Mr Sada’s old lot. When I arrived at the second gate, I only had to wait a moment before a Hobb hauled it open.

Lee and his people had been insulated from the BuyMort bugs and the gobb uprising, but most of them had watched it from the walls. Suzanne was at the gate to greet me, her arms opening wide the instant she saw my face.

“Oh Tyson! Welcome back, I’ve been hoping to see you. Is everything alright on that side of the fence?” She hugged me close and mussed with my hair somewhat before releasing me fully. It was nice, I missed having someone to fuss over me, and Suzanne seemed like she might be qualified to do it professionally.

“It is now, Suzanne, thanks for asking. We got a significant new group of hobbs in, a few hundred this time. They’re mopping up the gobbs now.” I answered.

Lee approached behind her, followed by a handful of his people and some of my hobbs. “Ho there, Tyson! Was hoping to grab your ear and talk about a couple of things, now that we’ve had a few hours sleep. This place doesn’t slow down much, does it?”

“No. No it does not Lee. That’s part of what I want to talk to you about, can you join camp leadership for a quick meeting?” I asked.

“Of course, as long as it’s below, I need out of this sun. I can either make do with four hours of sleep, or stand around in the desert all day, but not both,” he said with a chuckle.

“Fair enough, you can show me around the new grow facility, we can talk about your plans there,” I replied. I turned to find a hobb, and relayed where we would be, and to please pass the information along to Rayna when she came looking for me.

The hobb stared, blank-eyed, but he nodded when I had finished and saluted me with a fist to his chest, so I assumed it would happen as intended. When I turned back to rejoin Lee, he was already inside the entrance to the underground area. I trotted over to join him, and we started the long walk to the old medical wing.

Immediately I noticed a difference. The lights that we had hung throughout medical earlier in the day showed gear in stacks, all along the curved walls of the two main open areas. As we moved further in, Lee showed me the new growing racks.

Great silver racks filled the hallways from floor to ceiling and left a double-file space between them to walk and manage the growing sprouts. Each shelf was equipped with its own lighting and irrigation, and in most of the racks, thick pads of leafy greens were already growing.

“These are the sprout racks we managed to save and get up and running again,” Lee explained. “Mustard greens, watercress, spinach, and of course, as many bean sprouts as I could get. We can harvest from some of these pretty much right away, they’re mid-grow. This is the best we got, though.”

The older man finished with a customary twitch of his mustache that I took to mean consternation. I looked both ways down the large, curving main hallway, now filled with racks of growing greens.

“This looks great to me, Lee,” I said. “This plus the yarsp might get us all fed. I’ll need more than this, and quickly too, if we’re going to be able to continue trade with it.”

“Plus that army of new hobbs I saw marching in. That’s a lot of new mouths to feed,” he added.

“And an army runs on its stomach, I know,” I sighed. “We have enough yarsp to last tonight, and I expect the attack tomorrow will be just as big as this morning. This time we’ll be better set to defend against it.”

He nodded, his mustaches swaying. “A-yup, I see the value in that, given how close a thing it was last time.”

An image flashed through my head, seated in front of the gate, with no control over my shredded limbs, watching helplessly as a yarsp’s gaping mandibles lunged in toward my face.

“Anyway,” Lee said, breaking me out of my trance. “I have more solutions than problems today.” He turned and beckoned over his shoulder for me.

“I’m a fan of these facilities, the environment is very easy to control down here. Your giant dog-man, Axle? He was very helpful this morning. We have the entire place running on a central environment control module, tucked away in the back.” Lee spoke casually as he led me into a larger, circular room, filled with drains in the floors. “Spending a goodly portion of our fortune on this grow.”

“In here, for example,” he started, reaching to flick on a light switch.

Four large pyramidal structures sat in the room, one at each corner. Bright red tomato vines grew on one, a blue equivalent on another. On the other side, glass shelves showed potatoes growing beneath large plumes of greenery, with green versions in the other hydroponic pyramid.

I ran a quick search through BuyMort and a moment later an item display appeared over top of them.

ALL YEAR ROUND GROWING - PROVEN TO WITHSTAND PESTS, BALLISTICS AND MULTIPLE VARIETIES OF EXPLOSIVE PROJECTILES. THE STRONGEST, WARMEST, BEST-PROVIDED FOR CROWDS IN EXISTENCE . . . FAST GROWTH, FAST FOOD, FAST CONSUMPTION. FAST IS GUARANTEED WITH FASTREAD AFFILIATED FOOD. 10,000 morties. 4.3 stars.

“Spent some of our early windfall on some new items. Axle helped us find them. Tomatoes on this side. Something your man assured me was much the same, tomahtoes there on the other side in blue.” Lee waved a dismissive hand at the alien crops.

I narrowed my eyes at the name.

“Oh you noticed that? I think your friend is playing a prank on us,” he said, pointing at the other side of the room. “Potatoes,” he said, pointing at the brown tubers. “And potahtoes.” He pointed at the green tubers.

I nodded, slowly. Axle had a strange sense of humor. “I assume they’re at least edible?”

“For humans and hobbs anyway.” He flicked the overhead lights off, and we walked down the greenery-filled hallway to the next room.

It was filled with incomplete machinery, rows of large plastic racks, and masses of pipes and wiring to go with programmable LED lighting. “From here back we haven’t really gotten anything up and running yet, but it’s all in progress. We managed to save a mango tree and two banana trees, they’re topside in containment units I rented,” he droned.

“Which makes you eager to talk about getting some land parsed out for them,” I chipped in.

He nodded, waggling his mustache at me. “It does indeed, the rental fee is hourly. You want to talk turkey now?”

“Sure, why not? As an opening offer, how about all the land inside the former Sada compound. If you’re growing food on it or using it in any way to help feed the affiliate, I’d call that good use and hand it over,” I said.

Lee blinked and frowned. “Huh. Thought I’d at least have to ask. I was going to plant some wheat. Try and get the bakery back up and running,” he muttered. “Aside from the trees. Yeah, I’d be happy to take that plot of land.”

“The hobbs'll still guard you guys, and we may need to use the entrance to the underground from time to time, but otherwise I can’t think of a better use for it than Sundew,” I said with a shrug. “We need that food, and I can see you’re spending your own morties to get this up and running, so I consider us square. You ain't gotta pay me a damned thing, we’re in this together.”

Lee stared up at me for a moment, twitching his mustaches. “Hobbs kinda left me high and dry before. Would like some humans mixed in with them. But, hell, those were different hobbs. And I left them a one-star review.” He pursed his lips, then smacked a hand on his knee before extending it to my own.

We shook. “Done,” he said.

We started heading back to the entrance of the medical section, passing more artificial grow racks and hydroponic bays of various complexity, in various states of disassembly. As we entered the main hallway again, the rest of my senior staff arrived.

Lee waved a hand at me, turning to a side room. Rayna, Tollya, Axle, Jada, and I followed him in.

The room was an office Lee had whipped together in a hurry. A nice desk was pushed up against one wall, with a tall-backed chair behind it, which Lee immediately took. There were no other chairs, but stacks of books were piled behind the desk.

“I don’t do well on less than my eight hours, you all understand,” Lee said, leaning back in clear relaxation.

I nodded and leaned against the doorframe. Axle and Jada slid down to sit on the plain concrete, side by side. Rayna stood beside the door on the other side, arms crossed as Tollya sauntered over and sat on the edge of Lee’s desk.

The former CIA operatives’ mustache twitched, but he didn’t say anything.

I clapped my hands. “Okay, thank you for coming everyone, I’ll make this brief. Only important shit that couldn’t go in an email, right?”

It was time for Silken Sands first staff meeting.

Chapter 29

“So. Who knows what the hell just happened?” I started off the meeting with a question, clapping my hands. “And would like to share.”

Lee raised an eyebrow at me but stayed silent.

Rayna stood up a little straighter. “Gobb attack. Someone bombed pods, bugs got warped in, gobbs went feral. Tollya run good defense though, no weapons, ammunition, or fuel lost.”

I nodded. “Okay, so the gobbs attacked us specifically because we were distracted? And thank you Tollya, good work.” She nodded at me.

Axle raised a paw, index claw extended. “I would like to point out that their d’jhz tower was destroyed in the suicide bomber’s attack. It was likely a tipping point in their collective decision to attack us instead of finishing out their contract. D’jhz shortages are often at the heart of gobb attacks, outside of Storage.”

“Okay, that’s good to know. They came close last time, when we nearly ran out of d’jhz, so if we keep using them we’ll have to keep it safer,” I said, scowling at the concrete floor. “And that’s a big ‘if’ at this point.”

Axle nodded. “Unfortunate that it was our new tower, but easily repaired. I took the liberty of finishing out the failed contract. We received forty percent of our initial fee back, down from fifty for the amount of gobbs killed,” he paused, looking at me for a reaction.

I stared back at him and blinked, so he continued.

“Da Gobbs affiliate expects this kind of event, so there are penalties and refund policies already in place. Of course, they always win out on the contract, but if we do decide to use them again we’ll get a discount on our re-order,” he said.

When the Knowle finished speaking, he raised his paw again, staring at the stacks of books behind Lee’s desk. He glanced at me, and I nodded.

“I was hoping I could discuss borrowing some, or preferably all, of those books at some point,” Axle said.

Lee’s mustache twitched and he leaned forward. “I don’t typically loan things out, and that’s when there was a system of law to help me get it back. No offense, but I don’t know you, and books are precious.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I should explain. I would like to borrow them only briefly. See, I set up a Knowle library,” he said. Jada squeezed his paw. “Well, half a Knowle library, before the gobbs attacked. The point is, I would like to borrow them to include copies in my library. I’d return them right away, or you would be welcome to join me to have them copied. My kiosk will do the copying, and so long as I can afford slurry, I’ll happily print more copies of them anytime. Think of it as making a saved record of all your books, that can replace any that are damaged or lost on command.”

“Okay,” I said, shaking my head. “Let’s stay on task. You guys can talk about your book collections later, I’m sure you’ll work something out. Dearth hit us with a suicide bomber. Who’s got something on that front?”

Lee raised a hand. “I do. Saw the whole thing. Went into BuyMort to do some snooping, while you all were chasing around little green men. Bomber’s name was Roslin Parker, from Storage. No previous experience as a mercenary but showed up in a BuyMortMercMart beam from Storage and hitched a ride out of Prescott on an outgoing ship. Of course, Dearth is operating an open spaceport there now, so that’s not a direct link to them either. I have the ship’s information, if you want it, Tyson,” he said, pausing to glance at me over his spectacles.

“The ship appears to have been uninvolved, aside from dropping her off for a fee from an anonymous third party. That whole thing was framed as a rescue op. Dearth did not pay the bomber directly, of course. Three of her children were given small, but safe positions working for Dearth on other worlds, in their vast associate network, as part of an obviously rigged employment lottery theoretically run by the church,” Lee continued.

“There is no direct way to prove that Dearth was behind the attack, which makes me doubt any kind of church intervention because of it. Even if they wanted to do something to help us, which I doubt at this point.”

Everyone in the room stared at Lee in stunned silence. Finally, Axle broke the spell by snorting a laugh.

“Well thanks for saving me the work. You found all that since the attack?” he asked.

“A-yup. Forensic accounting wasn’t exactly my forte in the agency, but it isn’t particularly difficult with BuyMort’s interface either. Like browsing the internet.” Lee said. “Just gotta figure out what to ask, and how.” He leaned back in his chair and looked at the rest of us, clearly finished.

“Oh. Okay then. Well, thank you, Lee. At least we know what happened. Now, what are we doing about it?” I asked.

This time, Tollya perked up. “I organized defense and recall effort. Got all bugs and gobbs. We were hit with lot of aggropedes, those common from bombs. Also a jellyskirt. Those dangerous, but everyone smart and group together, keep it still.” She paused, looking up before continuing, “Nobody even die to jellyskirt! Well, except stupid gobb, but that not really count.”

After a moment of stiff silence, Tollya seemed to notice we were waiting for her to say more. “Oh, only lose nine. Three hobbs, six humans. All aggropedes. Lot of gobbs dead though, that humans’ fault. Should tell them to hit, not shoot. Gobbs easy to knock out, and they all wear helmets.” The hobb woman finished with a shrug, hugging one knee as she sat on the desk.

Rayna pushed off from the wall with her shoulders, stepping forward again. “I was at Storage, negotiating BlueCleave out. All our tribe here now. Four-hundred strong. This new home, but out of morties.”

I nodded. “We’re going to fix that now, Rayna, thank you.” I took a few seconds to think it over, then looked at Axle. “Axle, I want you to set up a series of changes to our affiliate page please, for me to approve when we finish here.”

“Rayna and Tollya. Tribe BlueCleave is offered twenty-five percent of all income from Silken Sands, to run security, and otherwise be an indispensable part of our affiliate. This is your home, you’re fighting for it, so you deserve a piece of anything it produces,” I said. I turned and stuck out my hand at Rayna to shake.

The hobb stared at me in open shock. Tollya did too, for a moment, before she whooped and raised a fist to the ceiling, nearly falling off the desk in the process. Rayna finally blinked, swallowed hard, and then reached a hand out to shake mine.

“Thank you, Tyson. BlueCleave seek home for generations,” she graveled, shaking my hand. “Now, for first time in thousand years, no BlueCleave in Storage!” Her voice rose, exultant. “Dearth learn to regret threatening BlueCleave’s home!”

Tollya slammed her chest with a fist and got down from the desk, to approach Rayna. “Twenty-five percent!” She squealed. The women embraced, tears evident in Rayna’s eyes.

“Never think possible,” Rayna agreed. They touched foreheads briefly, before pulling apart.

Tollya stayed near Rayna, leaning on the wall by her side. “BlueCleave home again,” she whispered.

Axle nodded, swiping at the air in front of himself. “Done. Once BlueCleave accepts, income will automatically transfer to the security fund when traveling through the affiliate.”

I looked at Lee, and then back at Axle and Jada. “I’m happy to offer percentages to both of your affiliates as well, to become more than just associates. Not twenty-five, but we can talk about how much when you’re ready. Standing offer, and until you both make your choices, we keep on business as usual. Agreed?”

Lee nodded. “Fine with me. I’ll consider it in the days moving forward and let you know once I’ve talked it over with Suzanna.”

Axle and Jada muttered back and forth in their own growling language for a moment before Axle stood up and faced me. “We would be pleased to take your offer and become an official part of Silken Sands. Two percent would make us more than happy, we just need enough to run and expand the library.”

“Done,” I said. “But I reserve the right to talk you up to five at some point, when funds allow.”

Jada blinked, licked her nose, and then nudged Axle. The Knowle reached his paw forward, and I grasped it, to shake.

“Okay, we’re good on that front,” I said. “Now, who can accurately describe our problems?”

Rayna nodded. “Yarsp attack tomorrow will be big. Too big. We need plan. Especially if you taking Phyllis and Doof. Our three best fighters, all away for attack.”

As she spoke, Afflqwst popped up unprompted and presented me with its ‘thinking’ icon. When she finished, it dropped a quest in my HuD.

Quest – Prepare your affiliate for an upcoming wild animal attack, scheduled to take place during your absence.

REQUIREMENTS:

1. Draft plan of battle. (incomplete)

2. Modify structural defenses. (incomplete)

3. Affiliate must survive attack. (incomplete)

4. (Optional) Say final goodbyes to important affiliate members before leaving. 0/1 (incomplete)

PROBABLE OUTCOME – Heavy affiliate casualties, loss of affiliate infrastructure. (50%).

POSSIBLE OUTCOME – Affiliate morale boost and food surplus. (50%).

REWARD – Credit level upgrade.

I read over the quest and sighed at the same reward I’d gotten last time. Still, I needed a higher credit ranking to even hope to survive in a fight against Dearth, so I closed it and turned back to my crew.

The way Afflqwst worked was essentially cheating. It could read the BuyMort scanned data from anyone attached to the network, and could potentially tell me a great deal about my enemies and allies, but the only way it would communicate with me was via quest.

It was also connected to the strange affiliate I had gotten my starfish suit and power blow perk patch from. Anything that affiliate had, I wanted, so more quests meant more chances at another killer item.

The more quests I could get it to spawn, by clearly identifying affiliate-based objectives, the easier all of this would get. Part of the reason I called the meeting in the first place was to farm some quests.

“Okay, got that one. What else?” I asked my crew.

Axle shrugged. “We need the construction up and running again. Most of our projects are incomplete, and we need repairs where the bomb went off. Some better ways to fund everything too.”

Afflqwst activated again, and another new quest was dropped into my view.

Quest – Complete affiliate upgrades and produce appropriate income. Act like a real affiliate.

REQUIREMENTS:

1. Collect twenty-five million morties worth of income from affiliate products or services. (0/25000000 incomplete)

2. Complete all construction projects in queue. (incomplete)

3. Effect repairs on damaged affiliate structures. (incomplete)

4. (Optional) Install a memorial for fallen affiliate members.

PROBABLE OUTCOME – Affiliate upgrades completed. (78%).

POSSIBLE OUTCOME – Affiliate income requirement met. (6%).

REWARD – Item coupon.

That reward still wasn’t what I was hoping for. But now that I had a method to farm Afflqwsts, I just shrugged and tried again.

“Excellent addition. Anybody else have anything?” I asked, peering around the room.

Lee sniffed, loudly. “What are you going to do about the multi-dimensional megacorp that is currently gearing up to swat us like bugs?”

A final quest arrived from Afflqwst.

Quest – Craft your affiliate to withstand the full economic and military force of the Dearth Conglomerate.

REQUIREMENTS:

1. (Optional) Significantly increase Silken Sands power within the BuyMort system.

2. (Optional) Significantly decrease the Dearth Conglomerates power within the BuyMort system.

PROBABLE OUTCOME – Dearth absorption of Silken Sands. (99%).

POSSIBLE OUTCOME – Silken Sands absorption of Dearth Conglomerate Arizona board. (1%).

REWARD – BuyMort affiliate rank increase recommendation.

There it was. For all of us to survive, this affiliate was going to have to grow, and fast. If I wanted to take down BuyMort itself, I would have to start by taking it apart piece by piece, and Dearth had volunteered to be the first significant piece. I smiled and closed the quest.

“Right, that’s my to-do list filled. I’ll answer each concern in reverse order, I think,” I said.

Pointing to Lee, I started, “I have a couple ideas that I hesitate to say out loud just yet. I am working on that, in a serious way. Anything you can do to help is welcome, especially if it involves information. The board is our enemy, but we only ever see their grunts. I need a way to get to them directly.”

Lee nodded, his mustache bobbing. “Yup, understood. I’ll see what I can do.”

Next I pointed to Axle and Jada. “Okay, construction. What do you got for me?”

Axle blinked and shrugged. “Well, we should make another gobbs contract and get the work complete. They’ll offer us a discount because of the attack, and it will be a whole new troop of gobbs.”

I shook my head with a frown. “Yeah, but then we’d have gobbs here again.”

Jada snorted. “Gobbs are the cheapest option,” she growled with a shrug.

“Well, how expensive is the next option?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Gobbs unique. They build fast, for very little pay, and their work is good. No other affiliate does that.”

Axle nodded. “The next comparable service in terms of building strength and speed of construction combined will be dramatically more expensive than the Gobbs.”

I snarled at the ground. “Of course. I really do not want to put our people through that again, especially not with it all so fresh. There’s dead people out there, there’s scared people out there. Some of them with family that vanished, because gobbs sold corpses before we could police them! I can’t have gobbs back here, not if my people will ever trust that I have their interests at heart.”

“Hobbs will build,” Rayna said, quietly. “Many with no work assignment right now anyway. Many eager to prove themselves. To prove they good workers. Eager to build a home.”

Tollya nodded. “Hobbs good builders. Not as fast as gobbs, but we more careful. Not stupid like gobbs either.”

Axle blinked and nodded. “That would work.” He turned to face Jada. “We should prioritize the external defenses though, yes?”

Jada nodded. “The yarsp push will come from the north, but we should make sure the trenches are all around the compound. If enough of them come, they will surround us. We should install burners, too. Plenty of Mo-gas to run them. Spear platforms will save us some morties on ammunition if we could get a few of those installed outside the walls as well.”

Rayna uncrossed her arms and stepped forward. “Tribe BlueCleave will build your defenses, Knowle. Guide our many hands, as was the way before. We will build our home and defend it, with joy and pride.”

Jada slowly stood and turned to tower over Rayna. She slowly extended a paw, claws sheathed, for Rayna to shake. “We stand together,” the Knowle warrior woman said. “As was the way before.”

Axle smiled and wagged his tail, and Tollya turned away to wipe at her eyes without being noticed. Something important had happened, and I was being left out.

“As was the way before?” I asked, peering between both Rayna, and Jada.

Axle raised his claw again, facing me with eager eyes. “Hobbs and Knowles have history. There was an affiliate, long ago, much earlier in BuyMort. Hobbs and Knowles ran it together, and it brought great prosperity to many. I believe its founder may be our Rayna’s namesake.”

Rayna glanced over at the seated Knowle, and he smiled up at her. “You have large shoes to fill, but I believe you shall indeed fill them. I am honored to be working alongside BlueCleave, as was the way before.”

Chapter 30

Axle stood and somberly shook Rayna’s hand as well, before hugging Jada and sitting back down with her at his side.

“Thank you Rayna,” I said. “I may not understand everything about this, but I appreciate your resolve, and your people’s eagerness to help. We accept, gladly.”

Tollya turned and walked briskly out the door. I could see she was still choked up, but over her shoulder she yelled as she left, “I go get hobbs ready for work detail!”

No one said anything as she left, and we stood or sat in silence for a few breaths.

“Well. What can you tell us about our funding, Axle?” I finally said.

“Currently at three point two million morties, after the partial refund from Da Gobbs. I have also been turning over our Sleem farm every hour, and it’s still operating at full capacity,” he reported.

“Good. We need to turn that into at least five million by nightfall, to pay the new radar guy. Spend all the morties to upgrade the farm. I want more freezers, as many as we can get,” I said. Lee and Axle both cringed.

“Well,” I hesitated. “Maybe not all the morties.”

“Two million would be a solid investment, we could expand the farm significantly with that much, and still have an operational fund for any unexpected problems that arise,” Axle said. “Or construction materials, the gobbs left nothing behind. I will aim for our Sleem farm upgrades to ensure the five million needed by tonight. It may be close, but we should be able to produce that much, with that investment.”

Lee nodded at him, lacing his fingers together with a smile. “I think you can borrow my books after all, granted I can come along and see how this kiosk of yours works.”

Axle brightened immediately, his tail thumping against the concrete. “Really? Thank you! I would love to show you the workings of a Knowle library! It’ll be fun.”

“Well, you’ll have to do that later. Right now I need Lee, Rayna, and Jada for a battle plan about the morning, and you have work to do,” I said, gently. I was smiling, but I was also rubbing my thumb against the bull’s head ring and grimacing inside.

Axle blinked in surprise but nodded. “Of course. Of course, yes, there is much to be done.”

Lee reached behind himself and produced a small stack of books, five hardcovers. “Here, get started. I’ll catch up later.”

The Knowles' eyes widened, and he stood. He approached the desk and carefully lifted the stack of books. Once they were gently tucked into his bag, Axle bowed at the waist to Lee. “Thank you. I will come find you once the construction is underway and show you how my kiosk produces copies.”

Then he left, following the same route Tollya had used to leave.

Once he was gone, I looked at the remaining crew. Time for a battle plan.

Jada started us off. “Too many yarsps. Something off about this hive, be careful tomorrow.”

“Well, I assumed the best time to go would be during the attack,” I said. “I just didn’t realize it would hurt our defenses here so badly.”

Rayna nodded, crossing her arms. “No one expect this many yarsp. Not realize they would grow like this. Have so much meat to build hive, send drones out.”

“It’s not unheard of, but an unfettered yarsp hive is a dangerous enough occurrence that Dearth is offering a bounty to remove it. They’re lowballing the bounty, of course, but that’s to be expected with Dearth. Any top-ten, really,” Jada added.

Lee idly scrawled at the air in front of himself, glancing between the alien women as they spoke. “Someone clarify ‘top-ten’ for me, please,” he drawled.

“Top-ten affiliates are the most powerful organizations within BuyMort. They all operate multiversally, which means the affiliates have significant presences within all of known BuyMort space,” Jada answered.

“And we’re dealing with three of them simultaneously, on hostile terms?” Lee asked. He peered over his glasses at Jada, hand hovering in the air, ready to take more notes.

“Yes and no. The Sleem are rank seven, recently down from six. They are only a top ten affiliate because of their size. The Sleem act more like animals than people and are easily predicted and controlled. They are still dangerous in numbers and can easily overwhelm even other top-ten affiliates if underestimated. Population is key to their business strategy, if it can be called that.” Jada looked between us all, sighing before continuing.

“They eat one another. Each Sleem funnels morties to the affiliate while alive, and when an affiliate grows to an appropriate size, they all consume one another and evolve to higher levels of Sleem, the cubes and orbs we see in more organized groupings. Sleem economics are further unusual in that they don’t seem to spend morties on anything besides travel, mostly ships and transport fees.” The tall Knowle woman looked between us all again, making sure she had our attention.

“Sleem are top-ten, but nobody really considers them to be, or means them when they say ‘top-ten.’ They’re more like dangerous pests, or potential threats in large enough numbers. Something to be managed and mitigated. Not legitimate competition,” Jada said, finishing with a sigh.

“Now Dearth on the other hand, is rank four, recently up from five. They’re a for-profit resource, research, production, and service machine that has a reputation for reliability, and ruthlessness. Dearth is run by a collection of all major and minor BuyMort species and races, aside from Sleem of course. The best way to describe them is business first. Nothing but the profit margin matters, and they are often disorganized or ineffectual because of this blinding focus.”

The Knowle paused to sip from her water bottle, before tucking it back in her mesh weave pockets.

“Their organizational structure is loose but conforming to prototypical business and church standards. Smaller affiliate structures run by larger affiliate structures. The Arizona board runs their operations on this part of the planet, but they answer to a Nu-Earth board, who answers to a Sol board, who answers to a Milky Way board, etc ad nauseum.”

She frowned and shook her head.

“The best way to beat them is to make yourself too expensive to be properly destroyed. Or too necessary to their business to be destroyed. Dearth cares about profit and income before anything else, that can and has been leveraged against them by affiliates in the past, but it seems to be a flaw they do not care to resolve. The size of their apparatus, and economic capabilities typically ensure the affiliate’s continued profitability, and that is the guiding light of their leadership. Very little else matters in the long term with Dearth,” Jada finished.

Then she spread her hands. “The Church of BuyMort owns us all. This is their game, we are all merely pieces. They de-facto run every other affiliate, control BuyMort culture, and profit from the entire known multiverse. Extra-dimensional beings are rumored to cohort with church leadership, and no one can remember a time they were not the single highest ranked affiliate in the BuyMort system. Unlike Dearth, leadership is centralized and highly effective.”

She paused to lick her lips and nose before continuing.

“We are not truly in conflict with the church. I would consider their stance toward us more idle neglect at this point. If we defeat Dearth here, they will notice us. If we do not bow to them when they notice us, they will crush us without hesitation or mercy,” Jada said.

“Sounds an awful lot like the way the mob operated,” Lee interjected. His hand was still scrawling notes in the air, but he raised an eyebrow at me.

I nodded. “BuyMort has no laws.”

Jada nodded. “Only customers.”

Rayna cleared her throat. “What is laws?”

“A concept, very much like rules, but bigger, and more serious,” Jada answered. “If BuyMort has laws, the church has written them.”

I stood, leaning against the wall, and realized that the concept of law was foreign to the layperson in BuyMort. Only the affiliates had that level of power, and aside from the church pushing their vision of culture, it looked like nobody wanted law to exist. It would interfere with business, after all, and nothing could be allowed to interfere with that most sacred process.

“Back to the yarsps?” I asked, gently.

Lee nodded, satisfied with Jada’s explanation.

“Ah, yes!” Jada said. “I suggest we burn them, en masse. Most BuyMort bugs are vulnerable to fire, or heat-based defenses. Cook 'em in their shells, using the mo-gas. We can hook up some high efficiency aerosolizers for the main wall, they won’t be expensive.”

Rayna nodded. “Cook and sell as we go,” she grumbled.

I looked over to her, my eyebrows peaked in interest.

“Too many coming tomorrow. We kill, they climb their dead. Have to sell as we fight, keep the bodies low,” the hobb explained.

“Okay, won’t that hurt our ability to gather them for food?” I asked.

Both Rayna and Jada shook their heads, but Rayna explained, “No. There so many it not matter. We leave the last of them, that plenty for us and for trade.”

“Got it. That sounds like it’ll work. Probably,” I said.

Afflqwst chimed softly, and I pulled up the notification. One of my quests had progressed.

Quest – Prepare your affiliate for an upcoming wild animal attack, scheduled to take place during your absence.

REQUIREMENTS:

1. Draft plan of battle. (complete)

2. Modify structural defenses. (incomplete)

3. Affiliate must survive attack. (incomplete)

4. (Optional) Say final goodbyes to important affiliate members. 0/1 (incomplete)

PROBABLE OUTCOME – Heavy affiliate casualties, loss of affiliate infrastructure. (40%).

POSSIBLE OUTCOME – Affiliate morale boost and food surplus. (60%).

REWARD – Credit level upgrade.

I nodded and closed the screen. One crucial item on the to-do list down, several more, equally pressing to go.

“Well, unless anyone else has something, I think that’s it,” I said, with a clap of my hands.

Jada, Rayna, and Lee all shook their heads.

“Good. Jada, you have the structural defenses to oversee. Rayna, I want that Fumble-Bee hive fully stocked and ready to use against a bombing run.” Both alien women nodded when I gave them their tasks, then turned to leave.

“Lee, you keep doing whatever it is you do,” I said, turning to leave. “Maybe take a nap, if you get the chance.”

The man huffed behind me. “Sure. Just need a bed. The cots we have down here don’t cut it.”

I chuckled as I left.

Chapter 31

Instead of leaving the underground, as Rayna and Jada both were, I diverted to the hangar. As I approached the end of the natural lighting we had installed, I noticed a different glow take over. It was soft, white lighting, and seemed to be centered in the middle of the hangar.

An illuminated, oversized balloon came into view, wearing reflective skirting around its top portion. The light from inside it bathed the entire hangar in soft, whitish-yellow light, only leaving the edges of the oversized room in shadows.

I walked down the stairs, enjoying the new lighting as I approached Axle and a squad of a dozen hobbs. The Knowle was addressing them.

“Right, I need all the rest taken out of their packaging and set into ready positions like this one,” he said, pointing a claw at a broken down Sleem freezer. Its parts were set around the primary box unit in a small circle, and a line in chalk had been drawn around it, with dimensions scribbled on each line.

“Chalk out the areas using these dimensions, set the parts in the area, move onto the next.” Axle looked around his gathered crowd of hobbs. “Everybody good?”

One of the hobbs thumped his chest at Axle. “Hobbs good!” He turned to grab a nearby oversized BuyMort box, and I saw behind him that there were dozens more. Possibly over a hundred, tucked in place beside the already operating Sleem farm. The hobbs all turned and broke out their knives, opening boxes and tossing the flesh-tape into a pile.

The old pile was tucked into a far corner, but even from there I could faintly pick up its gag-inducing scent. That stuff was disgusting. BuyMort wouldn’t buy it, and nobody wanted to handle it.

Axle turned to me as his hobbs began their work. “Ah good, I hoped you would come find me first. Walk with me?” he asked, gesturing with a paw.

I nodded, and Axle took the lead, heading toward the secret door behind the Sleem farm. Before we could leave fully, I hesitated and pointed to the balloon light. It was anchored to the floor by a thin cable.

“Hey, what is that thing? Really cool lighting,” I asked.

“Oh that’s just my emergency light. Simple product to deploy, but complex computing and inflation system. Says it works on any planet that supports life and has an atmosphere primarily composed of gas,” he said. “It scans the air around it, then draws in appropriately buoyant gasses that can also be energized to create lighting.”

He pulled an ad box out of thin air and projected it at me.

A Revolution of Safety Lighting the entire multiverse can enjoy! From Winding Road Illuminati, Kings of Brilliance. Around the multiverse people struggle to survive. They gather food, build homes, fashion clothing, and make a living selling whatever they can get their hands on. Over and over until night comes and the darkness forces them to stop.

But what if the darkness never came? Bringing to you the work-amplifying, power-independent innovation of the WorkHard Lamp. WorkHard Lamp isn’t just a light — it’s a lifestyle. Always on and always bright, this amazing device functions in any place with any gaseous atmosphere. Forever. 1500 morties. 3.7 stars.

I was not impressed.

“On forever sounds good,” I noted. “But the ad copy looks choppy and what’s up with those stars? Plus it’s super cheap!”

“The ad copy looks choppy. Look at you. It doesn’t take long to fall into the system, does it?” Axle laughed.  “Here’s the thing. Sometimes the sensors foul up and the wrong stuff gets drawn in. Then it’s either kaput or kablammo! But I wouldn’t worry about it. I’ve got tricks in the trade. Put it away from battle, in little nooks and crannies sheltered from the outside. Then give me some salvage and a workbench and I’m able to hammer out a lot of those defects myself.”

I smiled at the item, thinking about how lucky I was to have such a resourceful ally on my side. I nodded and Axle turned away from me, swinging the secret door open. As I turned to depart, I saw a few of the hobbs watching.

I frowned. Guess the door wasn’t so secret anymore. Just an easier way to get between residential and the hangar.

Axle closed the door behind me, after clicking on a small flashlight in the mesh of his top. The beam provided enough light for me to see by, even without my helmet. Dro’erja and Shela, the dark elf’s giant spider, were not present as we walked through the area.

“If you’re wondering where your new delf went, he’s top-side with the spider. Their cover got installed before the bomber hit us, so its safe for them to be up there,” Axle explained. “But given that it's still quite bright out, I rather suspect they are indoors. Drusk has been accommodating anytime I have had to interact with him. I understand there is some conflict between the two of you?”

“Eh, I hope not. He attacked us and hurt Molls, before you were hired on,” I answered.

“Ah,” Axle nodded. “I can safely assume you are the cause of his many fresh wounds then.”

“And the guy who paid the bill to fix them, if that counts,” I sighed.

Axle looked at me over his shoulder and nodded again. “It does, I believe. He strikes me as a genuine mordren, not given to dishonesty, or guile. I believe he shall work with Dro’erja well.”

I turned the wheel on the far door, spinning it to unlock the mechanism. “Okay, good. I was worried about that.”

We entered the underground residential portion of the base, stepping out of the old barbershop into the hallway proper. The primary bulk of our new hobbs were there, as was Tollya. She was going door to door asking for volunteers for work assignments and getting plenty of takers.

The hobbs were moving in, otherwise. Families were establishing rooms, hanging curtains, doors, even animal skins or plaited chitin bead curtains to use as privacy shields. The hallway was alive with movement. Young hobbs were in the area formerly used as drug lounges, installing oversized planter boxes, and filling them with rich, dark soil from bags. Banks of grow lights were being installed above them.

In the place of silk tapestries, thick leather and chitin murals were being unrolled and hung. Some of them looked very old and came from heavy metal boxes covered in wear. The images on them depicted a great hobb army experiencing a heavy battle on a mountainside, where armored, mobile bunkers fought floating ships. After the battle, the hobbs gave up fighting and turned to a life of peace.

Axle got my attention again, and I realized I had been staring. The hobbs were still in the early phases of moving in, I would have to look forward to seeing what they did with the space later, when it was more complete. The hulking Knowle led me further into the depths of the block, down the stairs to a newly installed door covering the final staircase down.

A massive slab of dull metal rose from the floor, covering the staircase down entirely. It seemed to jut into the concrete wall but slid open at Axle’s approach. I looked down into the cavernous room that Quadrum the beholder had made their own.

The staircase was gone, a thirty foot drop to the floor below in its place. The walls and floor were the same dull metal as the door, having replaced the concrete entirely. Thin steps slid from the wall at our side, allowing Axle and I entry. They silently vanished into the wall again as we passed, and the door closed without a whisper.

A tiny artificial star hung in the center of the room, burning brightly inside a bubble of energy. Streams of energy flowed from the contained star across the ceiling and down the pillars, traveling across the dull sheen of the metal in imperfect streams, wavering and wandering, but staying mostly in line with the elements they powered.

“Touch nothing, for fear of your life,” Axle said. “It is not personal, but beholders are notoriously bad at remembering how fragile most sapient life is, comparatively. I do not understand them fully, but I have the sense that several of the experiments in here could take your life, completely by accident, if you approached them incorrectly.”

“And what are those experiments, exactly?” I asked, eyes narrowed.

Axle looked up, but hesitated to meet my eyes. He blinked rapidly, and shook his head. “I’m not sure how to answer that question. I cannot understand the experiments in any of the ways that I can interact with them; sight, sound, and smell. None of that tells me anything substantive.”

I frowned. In too many ways this felt like another Sada situation, where I was doing everything for someone who didn’t deserve my efforts.

The thoughts of Sada made his face flash across my vision and I sighed. The dumb bastard. If only he’d have gotten over himself and stopped making things difficult for us.

I was going to make it up to him, do things how he should have done them and do them well. And that included figuring out whatever the hell was happening down here.

“But?” I asked.

“When they connect with me, I can sense some of the beholder’s mind. Quadrum doesn’t experience desire or motivation in the same way that we do, so it can be difficult to understand them,” Axle started. He licked his nose and continued, “but I can sense that they are very interested in the population rate of the Sleem, and I can sense that this interest is not limited to Sleem on this world, or even in this universe.”

Axle blinked and shook his head. “Somehow, Quadrum is studying all Sleem, through our Sleem.”

“So, we basically have a super powerful being that made a huge deal about breaking free from their handlers so that they could, what, watch our Sleem quantum bang?” I scoffed.

Axle breathed out a snort of amusement. “More or less. Again, I am highly invested in understanding this creature, I will happily keep you posted. It is your affiliate, after all. Understanding the beholder’s technology is like learning about the sun with a telescope.”

I nodded and blinked. I couldn’t help but think that the experiments could be super insightful and might offer us a technological edge or even a new income stream. But Axle was right. Now was not the time, and we could only understand so much by staring at the sun. I took in the room, then made my way down the moving staircase.

Chapter 32

Against the far wall of the massive room, a light blue Sleem cube was hung, stretched to each corner of the room. It was paper thin and held flat against the wall with a screen of visible lasers that appeared to emanate from the metal walls themselves. It vibrated and whistled faintly.

Three large orbs were suspended in translucent vats, the material barely visible to my eyes. The vats were elevated on pillars of the dull metal, slowly rotating around the contained star in the center of the room. Each pillar flowed along the floor without any sign of a track, neatly avoiding one another and keeping each vat aloft and in motion. The Sleem inside appeared to be in a state of deep panic and threw themselves against the walls of their prisons repeatedly.

An entire back portion of the room was dedicated to a raised pool of Sleem, where a small piece of the red birthing block Sleem swam in a marinade of liquified green oozes. Quadrum hovered over this last area, several eyestalk tentacles slowly waving and flowing over the red block. A pile of ooze had risen close to the beholder’s body and reached a dripping tendril upward to make contact with a ring.

Sparks erupted, and the Sleem pile splashed back down into the pool, washing over the birthing block. Quadrum blinked, a build up of flame crashing over their strange pupil. A screen of light appeared in front of the beholder, covered in arcane etchings. None of the lines, dots, and swirls that made up the beholder’s language meant anything to me, but Quadrum rapidly added several lines of text before turning away and allowing the window of energy to close.

“BEHOLD!” they roared, turning toward Axle and myself. We finished climbing down the stairs, and I followed Axle as we started walking toward the center of the room. “BE NOT AFRAID!”

“We come to dispose of the bodies, Quadrum,” Axle said. “And to install a feeder pipe head, with your blessing, of course.”

Quadrum hovered over and stared down at Axle, raising their large pupil to fixate on me. I felt a presence at the end of my mind, probing, pushing at my awareness.

“Hi, Quadrum. What can I help you with?” I asked, blinking away the headache that threatened.

“BEHOLD! MY DELVES!” the being roared.

Axle turned. “Quadrum wishes to hear from you why one of his delves yet lives. There is a question of secrecy, I think.”

I sighed. “He was unaligned. A slave. He’s no threat to anyone. As far as I can tell, he just wants to live in peace and take care of his spider. Besides, this coming from the entity that likes to zeppelin around off my balcony? Operational secrecy, huh?”

Axle narrowed his eyes. “Beholders are invisible to humans, hobbs, and most other forms of life, when they wish to be.”

I frowned. “Oh. Well, that kind of negates my point, never mind,” I huffed. “Look, I don’t think the guy will talk. He seems to understand self-preservation requires his silence. I didn’t see a point in killing him, and he might be able to help my affiliate,” I said, finishing with a shrug.

Axle turned back and leaned his snout up to Quadrum, squinting as one of the eye-stalks fixated on him.

“Agreed,” he said, relaxing. “Quadrum approves of the judgement you have displayed. They intimate that Dro’erja was always their favorite, as well.”

I nodded, and we reached the portal to the Sleem pit below. Several large carts were around it, stacked high with dead, nude delves. One held a delicate pile of three large, black pearls that glowed faintly at their cores. The carts were also made from the same metal as the floor and had no wheels. When Axle walked past one and shoved it aside, the metal bottom of the cart simply slid across the floor as if there was no resistance.

“Glad we agree,” I muttered. The Sleem pit had been covered completely by the strange metal, and I was nervous about where to go to avoid the inevitable reveal of the hole in the floor.

Instead, it became translucent, and the light from the contained star in the room washed down into the old cargo elevator shaft. The top of the shaft was clear, but much lower, in the dark, something squirmed. The floor opened next, sliding away into itself.

Axle produced a length of cable attached to a metal hook. A loop formed in the floor beside the hole at his feet, and the Knowle secured his hook, before checking the straps of his mesh upper garment.

“Okay, I’m good,” he said, producing a thick length of L-shaped pipe with a Dearth Conglomerate logo emblazoned on it. “I’ll go below and install the feeder pipe, you dump the bodies?”

I nodded, staring past him at the Sleem. The mass of them had grown to fill the entire cavern and was jellying their way up the shaft. Its movement was slow, but it made me nervous anyway.

Axle carefully lowered himself over the lip of the hole and descended, slowly, letting out rope until he was where he wanted to be; about fifteen feet below the surface. He had mounted the elevator shaft from the side, so he was flush with the wall, and began working with the pipe in his hands.

I shook out of my daze and went to dump the carts, deciding to do the pearls first, since they were close at hand. The first cart I grabbed moved even easier than I was expecting it to. It slid right up the edge and lifted easily to drop the pearls off the lip.

They bounced, with a sharp, echoing sound that caused Axle’s large ears to flicker with movement. I winced, expecting them to break, but the pearls proved to be stronger, simply bouncing and rolling down the slope until they vanished into the mass of Sleem with faint, wet, plopping sounds.

I moved onto the carts full of bodies. Those carts moved just as easily, in spite of being overloaded with bodies, and parts of bodies.

Axle’s ears flinched again as the corpses hit the concrete and began rolling. The concrete shaft was steep, and the bodies traveled downward, slowly tumbling over and over while their limbs flapped against the concrete. I turned and grabbed the next cart.

When I turned back, the Sleem at the bottom was closer. A rush of hot, fetid air pushed up out of the shaft, as the mass of jellied Sleem at the bottom forced its bulk up the shaft. Wet fart sounds echoed up the elevator shaft, and Axle pinched his nose, a look of distress on his features.

“Disgusting,” he whined. Then he shook his head and focused on the pipe. He was holding it up to the wall, and the longer portion of it began to rain concrete dust as it began drilling into the concrete.

“Is this okay? Are you okay?” I asked, hesitant.

“Of course!” Axle shouted back up. “The mass is after the bodies, I strongly doubt it will climb this high and risk the beholder’s direct involvement again.”

“Ohhhkay,” I said. I shook my head and turned back to my task. The carts all moved easily, and the bodies fell into the pit in bunches, to roll and slap their way down toward the hungry slime puddle that lived in my basement.

Once I had finished, I moved to Axle’s position and leaned over to watch his progress. The massive puddle of Sleem moved upward again, shoving its bulk toward us with an echoing fart against the concrete and another rush of stinking air. It smelled like decomposition and bathroom cleaner.

The pipe inside the concrete glowed red, and I was relieved to see the puddle at the bottom relax and deflate, once it had claimed all the rolling delves. It retreated quickly, resuming its position near the bottom of the shaft, barely out of the light, and stayed there.

Axle finished and pushed away from the pipe on the wall. “Ready!” he shouted. I hauled him up, hand over hand, and as soon as he was clear, the hole in the floor sealed itself, before becoming opaque again. Each of the empty carts surrounding it collapsed into the floor, melting back into the structure of the room as if they had never existed.

“Thank you, Quadrum. We shall leave you to your work. Summon me if you require anything, please,” Axle said. He gave the inattentive beholder a short bow and turned to leave. I followed my operations manager out of the room, back the way we had come. Once we left the room, the slab of metal covering it slid back into place without so much as a whisper.

“So what the hell are they doing down there?” I asked as we left.

Axle snorted. “Studying the Sleem, can’t you tell?” He chuckled, then shook his head. “I have no idea either. The room itself seems to be composed of a responsive polyalloy, perhaps even a solid nanite block, though that many under one operational computing device seems . . .” he drifted off, shaking his head.

“Okay, the tech is past you too, I get it,” I said. “But . . . that was an artificial star, right?”

Axle nodded grimly, his lips a thin line. “Miniaturized. I can only imagine the mortie value of a power source like that.”

I nodded and dropped it. Our mysterious beholder guest and their expensive toys were not my immediate concern. I kept thinking about Molls, and the church inquisition into her drugging. There was almost no chance they would rule in our favor at this point, but I was worried about her position.

As I thought about it, I realized Molls was another alien I might end up employing. She seemed determined to stay, even if she lost her job.

The route out of the underground was much easier, as the elevator had recently been completed, and hobbs were already working the crank to bring people and equipment below.

Axle and I got in line, and I was still lost in thoughts of Molls. When our turn came, Axle had to nudge me, and we piled on board next to a troupe of hobbs going topside to join the construction work detail. They seemed happy, and excited, even those wearing storage rags.

Once the elevator was hand cranked to the surface, slowly, we disembarked and separated from the lively group of hobbs.

“Order us another set of clothing, and furniture from Leahcim please,” I said.

Axle nodded and pulled up his BuyMort interface. “I agree, the hobbs from Storage are upsetting. It is a place I hope to never hope to experience again.”

I stopped, a scowl on my forehead. “Hey, what can you tell me about living in Storage? I mean I’ve been there to a small section of it at least and it seemed wild. And I keep hearing about it. But it was so large and so vast — honestly, besides knowing that it’s a place where people keep coming from, I don’t know very much about it at all.”

Axle frowned and scratched at his ear with one paw.

“Hmm. It’s odd, the things new people don’t know about BuyMort.”

He sighed and shook his head before continuing.

“Storage is the only place in the BuyMort system where you can spend morties if your account is in the negative. There are weekly limits, and everything adds to the debt, of course. Many become simply trapped. It is a large world, very large. Constructed, surrounding a gas giant. It is one of the oldest BuyMort facilities we have access to.”

“So anyone who goes into debt?” I started asking.

“Ends up in Storage. You can buy food, water, medicine, even basic clothing or bedding without any morties. Your account goes into the negative, and any morties you manage to make simply goes against your debt. But you can live, technically speaking.”

Axle stopped to look around us at the hobbs.

“Most major affiliates have a presence there. Some make it a good place, like the hobbs. Many sections of Storage are only habitable at all because of good hobbs doing good work. There is a life to be lived in Storage, if only just,” he finished, licking his nose, and pointedly turning away.

“I apologize, I do not enjoy discussing Storage, it brings up unpleasant memories.”

I looked around and watched how slowly the elevator moved as we stood in silence. “Well now it’s all quiet and weird cause you’re just thinking of the bad memories on your own. I’m happy to listen if you want to vent a little.”

The hulking Knowle sighed, and his tail drooped. “I spent time living in Storage, once, years ago. Before Jada. I had a wife, we worked for an affiliate that went under, and we ended up in Storage with the rest of the people who lived and worked there.”

“We were good workers and signed up right away with a work camp being run by Dearth. The wages were barely enough to survive on, but we were lucky, and lived in a good, safe section of the structure. For months, we scrimped and skipped meals to save up for passage out, to find another affiliate and make a new life.” There he paused and shook his head, whining faintly in the back of his throat.

“They had her repainting walls at remote outpost stations, after a local board shakeup led to a logo change. Meaningless work that paid barely enough to cover food each week and had her transported to a new dangerous outpost every day. I had an education, so I worked in logistics. One day, I was confronted with an emergency. Two outposts near one another in an asteroid belt had been peppered by micrometeoroids. The only approved oxygen resources weren’t enough for both stations, so I chose the station with the higher overall population. Forty-three people suffocated because of that choice, including my wife. I didn’t know she was on board that station, or eighty-three people would have suffocated aboard the other station instead.”

I was silent, as was Axle. “The local Dearth board compensated me with a new position, away from Storage, after the incident. My productivity was affected by the tragedy, and they hoped a more comfortable position would assist in my healing process.” His teeth ground as his claws came out. “I still have the congratulatory card.”

“I’m sorry, Axle. I shouldn’t have pushed, but I’m grateful you told me. I’m happy to have you as an ally against Dearth,” I said.

Axle shook his shaggy head. His tail had reverted to a normal position, but his ears were still flattened against his head. “I hold no ill will against Dearth. They are like an animal, simply operating on instinct. It is more of a system than a person, who caused my tragedy. There is no point in fighting that.”

He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. “Besides, I have found great comfort in the years since, and Jada. She is a strong, fiercely intelligent mate, and we are establishing our library together, as free Knowles. I cannot complain at my lot in life.”

Axle raised a finger. “That said, I will not mourn Dearth should you manage to take them down at all. But I strongly suggest you keep a close eye on your finances if you intend to survive this conflict.”

“Right,” I said. “Nobody wants to end up in Storage.”

Axle nodded slowly. “But so many of us do.”

“Sorry for bringing down the mood. What’s the story with that sewer hookup to feed the Sleem?” I asked.

As if happy to have a distraction, Axle panted. “It is installed, and the seal is good. I have a real time readout on my BuyMort display. An alarm will draw me if the seal is broken. Now all we must do is coordinate a dig to the other end and connect our sewer pipes. The extra liquid and nutriment will increase their growth rate considerably.”

The Knowle finished with a handshake. “If you’ll excuse me, I must go oversee the installation of the new freezers, after I swing by my place for a quick bite of lunch.”

I shook his oversized paw and nodded. “Thank you, Axle. Go. I have someone I need to see anyway.”

My operations manager turned and walked away, adjusting his belt as he went. It was almost two o'clock in the afternoon, and Molls should be done with her inquisition. I shook my head and went to go see my reptilian girlfriend.

Chapter 33

The campground was full of hobbs. Most of them were working. Hobbs climbed over the damaged area of the residential block, effecting repairs. A squad of them with weapons patrolled the roads, answering any and every concern my people had. Several more patrolled the walls, especially near the dig site on the northern end.

Another barbecue was being held beside the parking lot, as lunch got handed out to any who wanted it. Several large pots of simmering stew were being managed by hobbs in aprons.

My action with the MortBlock during the gobb raid had saved our vehicles from being stolen and sold outright, but that also meant the gobbs had bashed and broken parts off from most of them. A BuyMort pod was warping in furniture and clothing beside our wrecked up fleet of vehicles as I approached. Various piles of both formed.

The food smell had lured me away from my intended visit with Molls, but I hung around the outskirts and simply ate my meal while watching my people.

The mood was far more somber than it had been. There were people sitting at tables and crying, comforting one another, and treating wounds with Dr. Miles. The beleaguered doctor had a bowl of stew at his side, untouched, as a line of patients waited for his advice or ministrations. I made a mental note to get him a proper office built. There was still room underground for him, but that needed to be temporary. Having him out among the people would increase confidence, a lot.

Mel was there too, sitting on the second floor of our storage barn, sketchpad in her lap. She waved, once. I nodded and left her to her drawings but hoped to see them someday soon. I also moved out of the general frame of her view in order to eat my stew, specifically to avoid being in her art again.

It seemed like things were going to be as normal as they could be, given the ramifications of the attack. Nobody approached me to yell, scream, beg, or threaten, in regard to their loved ones dying on my watch, so I took that as a good sign. Loss was becoming normal, and comforting people wasn’t my job. The hobbs were better suited to dealing with these people anyway, not me.

I was just there to stop the threats to their lives. It was in my best interest to cultivate a distance. The words echoed through my head in Mr. Sada’s voice while I turned my empty bowl over to the hobbs. It had been carved out of hardwood, as was the spoon I had used. The hobbs provided these days, if you didn’t have your own. Now that there were enough of them, it seemed a non-issue to do some dishes in addition to everything else they did around camp.

My mood was fouled by the time I wandered up my own lane. I was expected to save these people from something we couldn’t properly face in a fight, and I had already failed several of them. Three hobbs, and eight humans.

Our hobbs didn’t seem to take the attack personally, or the deaths. Death to BuyMort bug wasn’t exactly an uncommon way to go, and BlueCleave as a whole didn’t seem to expect this transition to be bloodless. The humans mixed in the crowd were affected though, most of them nervously watching the sky when not distracted. I’d never been more relieved to have my privacy barrier.

The construction on my building was progressing, with a hobb work crew installing one of the windows for my new greenhouse. I could see what it would look like when they were done, a large square, with two-thirds of the second floor made of mostly see-through glass.

As I watched, I heard Molls’ car door open and close, and then I heard her scales against the desert as she slithered my way. The foul mood dissipated the instant she touched my arm, and I turned to smile at her.

She stood slightly higher than I did, which was something I enjoyed. While it wasn’t a requirement or anything, I’d always found tall women physically attractive. When she saw me looking, she adjusted her own height, moving her tail back so that she was standing at a different posture, one that made her shorter than me.

“What are you doing?” I asked, a small smile on my lips.

“Hmm?” She blinked at me, her deep green eyes twinkling in the afternoon sun.

“How tall are you?” I asked, stepping away to look at her.

Molls turned pink, but only slightly. She sighed and slid higher than before, coming to a stop almost a full head higher than I was.

“Most men are intimidated by a tall woman,” Molls said, with a shrug.

“And you change your own height for that?” I asked.

Molls blinked, the pink in her scales darkening. Then she shrugged and looked down. “Conda Nah’gh are larger than most BuyMort races. I did not mean anything by the act, I simply want you to like me.”

I stepped in closer and slid my wrist around the curve of her wrist, looking up into her face as I placed my palm firmly against the small of her back. “I do like you, Molls. You’re the only thing in this world that makes me smile anymore.”

The pink in Molls’ scales was quickly chased away by purple, and she ducked her face down closer to mine. With my free hand, I cupped her chin, smiling at the feel of the individual scales as I pulled her down so our mismatched lips could meet.

While the kiss was brief, I felt the distinct flicker of her thin tongue against my lips.

Molls pulled back with a sigh. “Not out here, the hobbs will talk,” she whispered.

I glanced up. They were busy with my delicate window installation, none of them were paying attention to us. I missed the watchful eyes of Hord, who was babysitting Cube in the downstairs room.

Molls glanced at her car, and then back to me.

I nodded and let my hand slide off from her hip, squeezing it lightly as I did.

Molls slithered quickly to the banged up car, and I walked behind. She left the rear passenger door open for me, and I peered inside as I approached. The car had been modified again, and this time it was the seats. The front bank of seats was able to fold down, which created a broad, flat surface in the cabin of the car.

The Nah’gh woman had added a thick blanket over the back and populated the area with several plush pillows. When I arrived and leaned in, she was lounging on the other side of the small den, her head propped up on one arm as she watched me get in.

“Welcome,” she whispered with a smile.

With some minor effort, I got a pillow behind my head and lounged. The heat was sweltering, but it was also kind of nice, like a sauna. My worries about Dearth faded away, and the near constant memories of violence quieted, as I stared up at Molls’ ceiling. She’d installed some reflective paneling, it reminded me of a mirror.

She reached a hand out, lightly touching my arm with her fingertip. “Did you mean what you said earlier? You only smile for me?”

I looked over at her and smiled gently. “I’m sure I smile other times. In frustration, cold amusement, or even fear. But you are my oasis. The only calm I have in this storm. When I’m with you, my smile isn’t forced, or fake. It’s not polite, or just trying to be friendly. It’s genuine.”

Her lips twitched in a smile. “That’s kind of sad.”

I looked over into her huge, green eyes, and slowly shook my head. “Not to me. You’re easily the best thing BuyMort ever brought to me. Or ever will.”

Molls’ fingers clenched on my arm, and I felt her claws dig in a little. “Don’t joke,” she whispered.

Watching her face, I realized she was upset. Badly upset and flirting to hide it. Or perhaps flirting as a way to cope. “You’re not a priest anymore, are you?” I quietly asked.

Her eyes unfocused, and she stared through my bare chest for a few moments, before she answered, “I’m not sure. The inquisitorial board has heard everything they care to, and are scheduled to deliver their verdict tomorrow.” She took in a sharp breath and shook her head, bringing a pained smile back to her lips. “The last few days have been difficult to ignore. I was told deploying would be different from the cloister, but I did not expect to have my faith in church leadership so thoroughly shaken in such a short period of time.”

I nodded, gripped her hand in my own, and brought it up to kiss. Her scales were rough and cool beneath my lips, and the purple that flooded from the area my lips touched was mesmerizing to watch.

“Garthrust brought in Nu-Earth board support, and the inquisitors overseeing my case have ruled against allowing me to enter my evidence into the corporate record. They claimed it was coerced, that Garthrust would have said anything to keep my thug from killing him. It was heavily insinuated that I had enticed you with sex, to do my bidding and bring violence against an innocent businessman, simply for his discovery of my so-called drug problem.” she spat. Her voice turned more and more venomous as she spoke, but I just listened and held her hand.

The church appeared to be siding with Dearth, fully. There was some hope in the form of her family, as her mother had some degree of rank within the church, but she really didn’t like talking about that.

Corporate justice loomed. By the time she had finished telling me her story, her mood was darkened, and her scales were tinged red everywhere except where I held her hand.

“So,” I started, rubbing my thumb and forefinger along the webbing of her hand. “What are you now, if you’re not a priest with the church anymore?”

Molls shook her head, bouncing with a short, angry shrug. She focused on my hand, on the swirls of color in her skin my thumb was making. The red pigment fled, being replaced fully by purple again, and her smile widened, threatening to expose her oversized, true mouth. “Well, I haven't been fired just yet, but being your oasis sounds nice.”

I returned her smile and kept rubbing her hand gently. “What do you want though, Molls?”

“You can’t tell?” She asked, large eyes lidded. Her other hand idly played with the zipper on her heated robe.

I smiled, deeper than before, and leaned forward to kiss her hand. “That’s not what I meant,” I chuckled.

Molls sighed aggressively and rolled back onto her nest of pillows more fully. “Right now, distraction,” she muttered. “It is unpleasant to find oneself suddenly dealing with the idea of being without purpose.”

“Ahh,” I said, raising one finger. “There’s the issue. Never let your job title define who you are.”

The purple in her scales began to tinge green, and she scowled. “That makes no sense at all. Your job is who you are. It determines everything important about what you do, where you live, what kind of life you have access to, even the mate you could end up with, or how you might die.”

I nodded as she spoke, then shrugged when she was finished. “All of that is true, and yet, none of it can tell you who you are. Those are simply the things you do.”

The green color flooded in harder, chasing away more of my preferred purple. “That makes even less sense. What you do is who you are.”

I grinned and looked down. “I sure hope not. Part of my recent job title change was murdering my former boss.”

Pink and green mixed in Molls’ scales, and she pulled her hand away, clutching it in her other. “I didn’t mean . . .” she faltered and stopped, blinking as she failed to meet my gaze.

I pushed back and sat up against the car wall, propping my lower back comfortably against a thick pillow. “No, I know. I’m just using that as an extreme example. If I believed that killing was who I am, I’d probably be my own next victim, by choice. But killing is definitely a huge part of what my job is right now.”

“But it's not your job, you’re not a killer. You’re a leader,” she said, changing her own position to be better able to see me face to face. “Sometimes leaders have to kill, in order to lead.”

I shook my head. “Only in imperfect systems, but that’s beside the point. My vision of what a leader should be is likely wholly theoretical, and not what a leader actually is by current or former standards. I’m not a leader either, not really. That’s just what I do. I don’t want to lead anybody, I don’t want to be in charge here, or anywhere.”

Molls scowled, and her scales reverted to a light purple color as we spoke. “I think I see the difference you insist upon, but does an internal evaluation of self really determine who and what we are to one another? This line of thought seems a touch esoteric for the purpose of my issue.”

I nodded eagerly. “Oh it must be, cause I didn’t understand most of what you just said at all. I just know that I don’t really like my job, and I don’t want it to be me.”

Molls blinked several times, finally nodding as she looked back up to me. “Then why are you leading?”

I shrugged. “Nobody else can survive it, and I have to do something.” I glanced down as I intentionally left out the part about wanting to kill the thing she worshiped. “What is it about your job with the church that makes you feel like you have purpose? The morties? The title?”

She flicked her tongue out and back in, shaking her head. “No, it is the act of helping those who require spiritual guidance and mental healthcare.”

“Well, you don’t have to be a priest of BuyMort in order to do that, do you?” I asked.

Molls stared at me, head cocked to one side. A small smile grew on her lips as pink flushed through her scales. “Don’t offer me a job, Tyson. It’d ruin my plans for the afternoon if you suddenly became my employer.”

I chuckled and met her eyes. “And what are your plans?”

Her eyes lidded, she whispered, “I told you, distraction.” Her tail suddenly wrapped around my legs, hips, and stomach, gently pulling me closer to her. She ran her fingertips along my chest and leaned in to kiss me again.

Chapter 34

Seven hours later, I emerged from the car with a short stagger, steam billowing from my skin into the cold night air. I turned around and retrieved my silk pants, the only garment I had left in the world. Molls giggled as she covered herself with the blanket, and I stepped into my pants again.

“I don’t think I have ever been this dehydrated, what have you done to me, woman?” I asked, hanging on the partially closed car door.

Molls laughed again, a sound I was very quickly becoming addicted to. She turned over, digging under the side of the seat for something and disturbing her blanket. It slid off, revealing her shapely, nude rear end.

Nah’gh from Molls’ version of their world had hips, and a dual tail section below their reproductive organs that very closely mirrored legs without feet. Her tail split and was capable of more complex movement with double-jointed knees but rejoined where her ankles should be and continued on in classic reptilian fashion. This anatomical design made for curves that were very alike to Nu-Earth human norms.

Her inner thighs didn’t even have scales, being part of the only area on her body without them.

She’d formed a new ring of purple on her scales, in permanent pigment, during our time together in her excessively hot car, something she told me was very special. I realized as I watched her rummaging that I already wanted her again.

The only reason we had stopped was because I’d gotten a call from Axle telling me our new employee was about to land and would be expecting payment. Our fund was short, and Axle needed me to come over and help him smash and sell some of the treasure left behind by the Delves to make up the shortfall.

I’d been tempted to tell him off, even with how dire our straits were, but Molls told me to go. She explained that her people could mate for days without stopping, and that whatever time we got together was a gift in her eyes. I still didn’t want to leave that car.

But, duty, and my Knowle friend called. So I found myself standing in the comparatively chilly night air, as my new serpentine lover dug around for something.

“Ah!” she chirped, sitting up straight and holding a large bottle out. She realized her state of undress and covered up with the blanket, shivering. “Drink this, you’ll love it.”

I raised an eyebrow. The bottle she was handing me looked like simple glass with a metal cap, but the liquid inside was vibrant blue. “Is it made from bugs?” I asked with a scowl.

Molls burst out laughing. Between bouts of vigorous physical activity, we had spent hours talking, and I admitted that I was getting past my bug-eating phobia and mentioned interest in her drumu dust coffee. We didn’t end up sharing a cup, as she teased me about my reluctance until I plied her with physical attention as a pleasant distraction.

“No, you absurd man. It’s just juice.” She dropped the blanket, to my delight, and unscrewed the cap to take a sip. “Sweet and delicious, very hydrating. Here.” Molls tossed the capped bottle in the air, caught it deftly with her tail, and pulled up the blanket as she thrust the bottle out the car door into my face.

I took the bottle and smiled at her, as she quickly withdrew the tail. She’d installed banks of heat lighting in the ceiling, and as I watched, she activated one of them directly over her own head. It was what I had mistaken for mirrors, but it worked very much the same as a mirror, so long as the lights were not on.

“I don’t want to tell you to leave, but I’m also far too naked and freezing for that door to stay open,” she finally said.

“You don’t mind my leering anymore?” I asked, a smile on my lips.

Molls sighed, luxuriating into her pillow mound further and smiling. “Mmm, not at all. It was never really the leering that bothered me, it was more about the assumption.”

“Couldn’t help it the first time, super glad I don’t have to try not to anymore,” I said, kissing my fingertips and blowing it to her. She grinned at me, using her whole mouth to do so.

Since we were getting comfortable around one another, I had told her not to bother trying to hide her true mouth. I liked her real smile, not the one she put on for show.

Then I closed the door and turned to go meet with Axle in the storage section of our underground residential facility.

As I was walking down the road out of my site, I got a text from Molls. “You should shower before you go meet with your Knowle. It smells like sex in here.” There was a picture from her too, still wrapped in her blankets and pillow pile, smiling up at the camera.

I immediately turned around and headed into my house, walking past the random hobb I’d never met who was babysitting Cube and going straight into my new shower. I’d forgotten how taking a shower could feel, and turned the showerhead to the tightest setting, blasting my skin with hot water. I scrubbed as quickly as I could, just using my hands. Soap was something I had also failed to acquire, so I just rubbed and used the water to get myself clean as best I could.

There was no towel either, so I drip dried for a couple of moments before getting impatient and using the remnants of my comforter. A gobb had torn it up with a carpeting tool, but it worked well enough as a towel for my needs.

Being without a towel was unacceptable, I made a mental note to find one before I came back home.

The blue juice was sitting in its bottle on the floor as I finished getting dressed again, and reminded me of how thirsty I was. I cracked the lid and took a sip, quickly guzzling the rest. The juice was cool and refreshing, mildly sweet with a general aura of light, tropical fruit. The flavor immediately entered my top ten favorites, and I thought about how incredible a margarita made with it would be.

Without pause a BuyMort ad rose up showing myself and Molls lounging on some white sand beach next to the clearest blue I’d ever seen. In between us was a large bottle decorated all over with fruits and cocktail glasses.

Nothing says rest and relaxation better than a cool and icy margarita on the beach with the one that you love. And nothing says margarita better than Winding Road Prime Tequila. That natural smooth and rich taste that’s so good, you can drink it straight from the bottle.

Live life frozen, spicy and bubbly. Make your margaritas with Winding Road Prime. 30000 morties, 4.9 stars

I smiled at the ad, wondering if a vacation like that would ever be possible. The price tag was huge for a bottle of liquor, but if I could have a day just like the one they showed, it’d be well worth it. I dismissed the ad as I walked past Molls’ car again and saw the blinds in the backseat flex so she could peek at me. I grinned even more widely, marveling at just how cute she was. With a quick wave, I jogged out of the lot and headed for the elevator down to the residential area.

Running was not something I did a lot of back before BuyMort, so I was surprised to find that jogging was a very comfortable movement speed for me. My jog was also somewhat faster than normal, because of my crystalline colonies. I gave some thought to my recent endurance, with Molls, and wondered how much of that had been enhanced by my patch as well. Power Blow indeed.

When I arrived at the elevator shaft, I was greeted with a sign that informed me they were closed for the evening, to cut down on noise for everyone. The elevator had been a bit creaky. It was locked in place at the top of the shaft, creating a decently solid barrier for most people, but a mildly annoying door for me.

My enhanced strength allowed me to lift a corner of the large metal slab and slip beneath it. I held onto the lip, and then dropped down to the first floor, the tunnel I had been chased through so recently by angry Sleem cubes.

From there it was a short walk down to the former grocery store turned storage room. Axle was already there, and he looked up with a sniff as I walked in the room. His eyes fixated on me and narrowed as he sniffed the air, and a slow smile crept across his face.

“I am happy for you, my new friend, and grateful that you took the time to wash afterwards,” he said.

I froze momentarily, stupid, emberrased grin on my face. “I, uh . . . felt like living.”

“No explanation needed, or judgment passed by me. I am merely happy that you have found someone. It is an important part of life, to most,” he said, glancing up at me. “and to be perfectly honest, you’ve seemed stressed. Sex is good stress relief.”

“It really is, isn’t it?” I asked, dreamily.

Axle burst out laughing, and I joined him.

“Shall we go through some treasure?” He said, once our laughter had calmed.

“I’m ready,” I answered.

Axle was becoming more and more of a friend, and I found myself looking forward to digging through stuff with him, looking for good bits to sell.

The next half hour was spent going through some of the personal belongings that the delves had left us via the right of conquest. I had wanted to start with the jewelry, but Axle warned me away and suggested the many silk items instead. Without a viable excuse for scrap gold to be running through our affiliate, most of the jewelry would raise suspicions, or at the very least, leave clear evidence that we were selling a cache of jewelry and trying to do so without being noticed.

Axle assured me that he had excavation income planned for the future of the affiliate. With a name like Silken Sands, he said, it would feel strange not to invest in some form of mining operation. A mining operation that would be beneficial to our ever-growing construction needs, he further explained. Once that was up and running, the odd occasional chunk of gold being run through the affiliate wouldn’t raise any eyebrows.

So we went to the silk goods, which had been separated by our industrious hobbs. There were tapestries, most showing scenes of decadence. Orgies, wine fountains, drug dens, orgies in wine fountains and drug dens. One I found particularly interesting showed what seemed to be a scene of ancient dark elf government. It was the oldest piece in the collection by far.

A city carved in a cave held dozens of buildings, built into and out of the various oversized stalagmites and stalactites, overlooked by a parliamentary chamber hung in the ceiling of the cavern. Dozens of elves with ink black skin and ember red eyes argued over a long scroll on a pedestal, some pointing at the city below them, others clutching bags of spilling gold coins and turned away from the rest. Below their platform, various disasters were depicted among those in the city. Disease, famine, war, and greed were all separately represented on the tapestry, the city in ruins among them.

We discussed the tapestry as we took to it with silk shears. I wondered at its significance and Axle assured me the imagery would not be lost simply because we destroyed it. His library would ensure that.

Axle scanned each tapestry thoroughly, with a handheld device he tucked into his mesh top’s main pocket between each item. We unrolled, scanned, and then ripped apart three of the smaller tapestries, tucking the scraps into an oversized basket. Axle guided me in cutting the scraps into shapes and sizes that would be classed as scrap silk when BuyMort took it to market for us.

Following that task, I helped him carry the basket up through Shela’s bolt hole to the spider ranch. So far, nothing fancy had been done with the hole, so we had to climb out the last few feet, through the recently cut hardpack. Shela left oversized webbing that was surprisingly helpful. We used it like a rope ladder for the last, most difficult portion of the climb.

When we emerged from the ground, I heard splashing and looked around at the sound. Shela was submerged in her pool, an oval shaped pond cut in the earth large enough for her and two others her size, if she chose to share. Not that we had the spiders to spare, I sighed as I looked at our damaged section.

The dark elf Dro’erja was working in the grove of Joshua trees, wearing an oversized straw hat in addition to his coveralls. He held a bucket in one hand, and had a sponge tied to a stick in the other. Once the sponge was dipped in the bucket, Dro’erja gently rubbed it against the tree limbs, being careful to avoid any areas that spiders currently had webbing in. He paid particular attention to the trunk of his tree.

Drusk approached, as Shela flicked her legs and splashed the water again. She lurked just beneath the surface, her long thick hair swaying gently in the water as she peered out from beneath it with her multitude of dark eyes.

“Boss. Axle.” Drusk grunted. He was carrying a large BuyMort box and wearing a small white cloth mask over the tip of his nose. I smelled why as he came closer, the unmistakable stench of rotting flesh-tape emitted from the box.

It was time to get back down to more BuyMort business.

Chapter 35

“Evening, Drusk,” I said, pulling the basket of silk scraps free with us. “We’ve come to see if any silk is available for sale.”

The mordren grunted and continued on along his way. Once he reached the populated portion of our spider forest, he began taking strips of the flesh-tape from his box and laying them out around the base of each tree. He used the curved tip of his hook to manipulate the disgusting stuff, and the formation around the trees was not perfect.

Dro’erja approached next. His bucket and sponge-on-a-stick were resting at the base of a nearby tree, and he smiled as he walked over to us.

“Thank you, Tyson Dawes, for access to this paradise,” he said, sweeping his arms to indicate the enclosed spider forest. His gaze fell on Shela, casually playing with the water in her pond, and his smile grew warmer.

“She seems happy,” I said. The cover above us was extended from each of the walls, on long, thin metal poles, and we were protected from prying aerial eyes.

“I have not seen her happier in recent memory,” Dro’erja said, still smiling.

“Good!” I said. I smiled too, watching the strange, oversized spider.

“She has produced some webbing for you, as have the others,” he said, gesturing with one hand down the row of trees. The new walls had been installed outside the range of the small fence Rayna and Tollya had put in, and the spiders were using the fencing to build webbing.

I started walking, with Dro’erja leading the way. He pointed to various trees as we moved a little deeper into the spider forest. “I’m applying Shela’s pheromonal secretions to some of these trees. It should encourage hatchlings to migrate to these unpopulated trees, instead of staying and being devoured by their parents. General forest growth will increase dramatically, and aid recovery chances overall.”

Drusk dumped the last of his box, and turned to the storage barn. “These were all the hobbs brought me. We could use more. I’ll leave the box outside, don’t want the stink in there anyway.”

“Thank you, Drusk!” I said, waving. He stared back at me, before blinking his remaining eye and walking away.

Dro’erja stepped in and got my attention. “Ah, he means well, and has been quite helpful. I suspect he and I are master and fresh pupil in handling experience, but I assure you I will treat him as an equal in rank.”

“Well, I appreciate you showing him the ropes, so to speak,” I said.

Dro’erja laughed once, little more than a tilted grunt in the back of his throat. “Heh, ropes. Yes, I am showing him the ropes. Human phrases are so colorful. At any rate, the flesh-tape will draw winged insects, increase the food supply, and encourage breeding.”

I narrowed my eyes and watched the dark elf gazing over my little forest. “What are the odds of recovery for the ranch?” I asked, after a few moments.

“Good. Excellent, if conditions remain. The back area was the most heavily populated. When your predecessor took their webbing, he managed to leave a healthy portion of your clutter’s population. Enough that most of them survived, even without their webbing for a day. Your orb weavers are especially vigorous, several eggs have been laid already, and I expect hatchlings soon.” He nodded to finish, hands on his hips. “I think this ranch will recover quite nicely. There is already some webbing you can claim, though I would leave the trees, if I were to be asked.”

“You can offer advice like that any time, Dro, it’s most welcome. Just the stuff on the fencing?” I asked.

“Yes, that would be acceptable. Most of that is exploratory, or spent hunting webs,” he said with a smile. “And Shela’s supply is in the storage shed already, in baskets.

“Is he my boss now?” Drusk grunted, from his position on the porch across the pond from us.

I looked over, and for a moment, was reminded that an eleven foot tall dragon wanna-be was behind a giant hairy water spider, and at my back was Spider City, the worst, most terrifying part of my campground. I shuddered and shook my head at Drusk, moving briskly away from the crawly section of the ranch.

The trees Mr. Sada had sold really opened up the place. Made the open area more spacious, less creepy to be in.

“I’ll just make the sale, shall I?” Axle asked. I nodded happily, turning back to Drusk.

“No, he’s not your boss. But from what I just heard, it sounds like you’d be smart to try and learn as much about spider ranching from him as you can, while you have the opportunity,” I said, shrugging. “Think of it as free training. Spider ranching must be valid work in BuyMort.”

Drusk scowled and nodded, slowly. “It is. What makes you think I would want that skillset?”

“I dunno, it’s just the silver lining I can see in your situation.”

“Silver?” He blinked and looked around the compound, scanning the walls, and glancing overhead at the cover.

“It’s a phrase here, on Nu-Earth. We say there’s a silver lining behind every dark cloud because if you look at them during the day, you can typically see the sun shining around them.” I shrugged.

“And at night?” He grunted. “Or what if the sky is all clouds, so the sun cannot get around their sides?”

“Uhh . . . yeah it’s not a great saying. Supposed to promote optimism.” I blinked rapidly.

“What good does the silver lining of a cloud do for someone?” He asked.

I puffed out my cheeks. “Well, not much, when you put it that way. Kinda looks pretty, I guess. Maybe that’s a morale boost.”

Drusk nodded slowly again, staring at me with narrowed eye.

I raised my hands in surrender. “Yeah, I know. Stupid humans.”

“Stupid Nu-Earth humans,” he corrected. “Nothing wrong with humans, some of my best friends are human.”

“Aw, shucks, I like you too Drusk,” I chirped.

He gaped at me for a moment before the laughter wheezed out of him. I smiled and watched as the huge reptilian man laughed until he choked. He retched violently and shook his head. “You are funny, stupid aggressive Nu-Earth human. I will give you that.”

“I’ll take it,” I said, turning back to Axle. He had finished with the sales and was returning as the BuyMort pod whistled into the distance.

I pulled up the BuyMort page and checked our sales account information. We had five million and four thousand morties.

Purchase: Textiles, Nu-Earth Orb Weaver spider silk. Rarity, common. Condition, good. 913 Morties dispensed.

Purchase: Textiles, Nu-Earth Black Widow spider silk. Rarity, rare. Condition, excellent. 19,348 Morties dispensed.

Purchase: Textiles, Exadark Swamp Spinner spider silk. Rarity, uncommon. Condition, excellent. 34,986 Morties dispensed.

Purchase: Scrap, silk. Rarity, common. Condition, good. 45,875 Morties dispensed.

The silk had put us over the edge, even with the percentages we needed to pay out to Dro’erja, Drusk, and BlueCleave. Dro’erja was staring at his own BuyMort screen with wide open eyes. As I watched, tears formed in the corners of his bright red eyes and slid down to his smile, vanishing at the corners of his mouth.

“Thank you,” he whispered, as he turned to look at Shela. “Thank you so much.”

I narrowed my eyes and shrugged, suddenly intensely uncomfortable. “You earned it, Dro. Just, uh . . . keep the ranch doing good, you’ll definitely get more.”

Axle nodded as he arrived, clapping me on the shoulder from behind. “We should go, the new arrival is here. Our hobbs are detaining him, he’s apparently caused an altercation already.”

“Oh good! I was hoping for a problem employee, the place wouldn’t feel like home without one,” I sighed. “Let’s go meet the new guy.”

I waved my goodbyes to Dro’erja and Drusk, who ignored me for the most part. Dro’erja raised a hand in acknowledgement, but I could see he was clearly in his BuyMort menu, and was focused on that. Drusk merely narrowed his eye at me, and stared at us until the gate closed behind us.

“The delf has likely never seen that amount of morties in his account before,” Axle said as we walked toward the parking lot. “The House of None are very tightly controlled, usually.”

“So I freed a slave.” I said, shrugging. “Seemed like the right thing to do.”

“For the slave, certainly. For your fledgling affiliate, it seems so. His expertise has already increased the value of our webbing, simply by how he encourages them to spin it,” Axle murmured, almost talking to himself. “For the House of None, and the delves who control it? Not so much. I will endeavor to keep his presence here restricted knowledge.”

“Hey, that reminds me, you took a bunch of scans of the delves' silks for your library. Won’t that expose us?” I asked. Ahead of us, in the parking lot, I could see a crowd of hobbs surrounding something small.

Axle smiled and nodded. “It would indeed, if not for my restrictions. The library’s primary stock will be free access, but I now have a restricted section. Perhaps one day the scans of their silks will be free knowledge again, but for the moment our security outweighs any other concerns.”

I nodded. “Okay, good, thank you.”

We arrived at the parking lot, walking single file through two parked, heavily vandalized pick-up trucks.

A two foot tall bat creature was encased in a ring of armed hobbs, his oversized wings tucked neatly into his torso. Morbin, the new sonar guy, had arrived.

“C’mon? C’mon?” he asked. “One of you knows where the bar is.” His voice tilted in false friendship, and he looked between each of the hobbs. “Morbin thirsty!”

Ordo was leading the group of hobbs, and he saluted me with a thump to his chest as I approached, breaking off from the group to come speak with me. In a low voice near my ear he said, “He drunk already. Harassed family in their apartment, looking for drink. Says you owe him five million morties.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Well, he’s not wrong there. Axle? Pay the man please, that may get his attention.”

“Nobody has drink? You there, hobb! What you got in that flask?” Morbin poked at one of the hobbs, who neatly dodged his clumsy attempt, before stepping back into place. “Ohh, funny! Funny hobbs here! I like it!” The little alien bat giggled and belched.

“This must be what he meant by Morbin time,” I muttered. “Is his home built?”

Axle nodded and pointed over one shoulder to the residential row. Suspended over the main walkway was an oversized bat box, its support legs built into the rooftops of the apartment buildings on either side. It looked simple but had a small metal door that could be closed to block out all sunlight. A ladder had been crafted from shaped rebar, on each leg, and a human sized porch was visible around each wall.

The entire arrangement looked like they had built a solid flat platform first, then just poured the mud-crete structure on it when it was ready.

I saw a trio of undersized duffle bags behind Morbin on the pavement and gestured to them, facing Ordo. “Can we get his bags put up there? I don’t think he’s up to the task.”

Morbin spun around and glared at me, then hiccupped and lost his balance. “You speak critical truth, Nu-Earth-man. I am far too thirsty to go to bed! Flights always make me thirsty,” he said from the ground. Finally, his eyes crossed in his little snouted face as he saw something on his BuyMort interface.

“Woo! Morbin buying rounds all night!” He suddenly cheered, raising both wings directly overhead. When fully extended, they reached higher than the hobbs' heads.

“What is this?” He asked when no one responded. “Is my first night on new world, and rich from new job, I want to party!”

“Morbin!” I said, loudly. “I think you’ve partied enough. You seem pretty wasted, friend.”

“Oh this the new boss, I must be respectful,” he muttered to himself, pushing his way between the hobbs. He staggered up to me and stared up into my face. “I seem drunk, huh? What you basing that on? You ever seen a Natbakkan before? For all you know this is just my personality,” he finished with a huff.

I scowled. “You were sober when we talked earlier. You’re drunk now, very drunk.”

“Oh we talked on mobile, dammit, I forgot,” he muttered. “Very well, yes, I am drunk. I would like to get more drunk! To celebrate my arrival on Nu-Earth!”

I took a deep breath and stared down at the tiny bat creature. He was making me want a drink, it’d been days since I’d had any kind of intoxicant beside the suit’s painkiller. I turned to Axle.

“Do we have any booze?” I asked, under my breath. Morbin’s oversized ears twitched.

Axle shrugged. “The hobbs were putting together a still this afternoon.”

“Bah! Hobb swill is no drink!” Morbin huffed. His long arms crossed and folded in over his chest, giving him the impression of pouting.

“Can we build a bar?” I asked with a sigh.

Axle narrowed his eyes and licked his nose. “I mean, yes? A bar is not a difficult structure.”

I pointed at the far end of the residential complex. “Well, add it to the to-do list, please. We need the docs office and more housing again anyway.” I pointed at Morbin. “I want a drink now too, so best I can do for ya, Morb, is share a drink with you right now. Unless you want me to introduce you to granny Phill, and you do not want me to introduce you to granny Phill. She’s liable to kill you on accident, the stuff she drinks.”

He nodded as I spoke and then opened his long bat wing arms to embrace me. “Yes! Yes, a bar will be built in my honor, and I will share a drink with you to celebrate!”

I pulled up BuyMort and started searching. “Fine, but I choose what we’re drinking.” Some booze was surprisingly affordable on BuyMort, and I ordered a bottle of mid-shelf tequila.

“So long as it is made with alcohol, I am sure I will love it!” Morbin said, slightly too loud.

“You’re a bad influence, Morbin. Welcome to Silken Sands.” I smiled down at him.

The bat creature looked up and grinned, his mouth full of uneven fangs.

Chapter 36

The pod arrived and warped in our tequila, which I cracked open and took a long drink from, before handing it to Morbin. He snatched the bottle from me with his oversized arms and lowered it carefully for a sniff.

When he retched, I laughed. “There’s a worm in it too,” I said.

Morbin looked at the bottle in shock, holding it up to inspect the small, drowned creature floating in the amber liquid. He stared at the worm for a long moment before he looked up at me. “Can I eat the worm if I drink all the liquor?”

I roared laughter to the sky and nodded. “My friend, that is the entire point!” He brightened and carefully lifted the bottle for a swig. “But, we will not be eating the worm tonight, you have to work your way up to that, and I said one drink.”

Morbin lowered the bottle and exhaled forcefully. “Woah! Your drink is strong, Nu-Earth man!” He looked back at the worm. “I’m really looking forward to eating you, little one,” he slurred. Then he raised the bottle and took another swig. “Now is too late! I already take two drinks.”

“One drink for me, Morbin. You might want to consider slowing down, though.” I laughed and reached for the bottle of tequila. Morbin held it away until he could down one final swig and laughed as it slipped from his tiny, claw tipped fingers. I capped the bottle, after wiping it off on my shirt, and tucked it into my bag.

“So how’s this work, Morbin?” I asked.

“What you mean?” he grunted.

“How does your service for my affiliate work?” I asked.

“Ohh, that, that, yes-yes-yes. That easy.” He pointed one of his over-sized ears north, toward Prescott. “Right now, Dearth has twelve hovercraft patrolling their perimeter, and one cargo vessel heading for a landing on their southernmost pad.” The ear turned back toward me, and Morbin stared up at me.

“You can hear all that?” I asked.

“I hear everything,” he answered.

“Oh,” I said. I looked at Axle, and he produced his phone.

A text came in on mine, and I glanced at it. “I’ll install a sound proof room to meet in, if needed.”

I nodded at the text and turned back to Morbin. “What kind of confidentiality agreement are we talking about here?” I asked.

“Oh, you worry over nothing. Morbin no tell your secrets! You can trust Morbin!” He said, drunkenly staggering as he tried to lean on the nearby truck wheel. “Morbin highly professional.”

“That wheel is filthy, be careful,” I said. He brushed off the back side of his wing and nodded a quick thanks up to me. I couldn’t see any clothing on him, but no sexual organs stuck out at me either. I decided not to think about it too much and got right to business.

“Okay, here’s what I need from you Morbin.” He looked up at me, paying as rapt attention as the alcohol would let him. “Anything that sounds like it's going to go directly overhead, I need to know about. Especially if it’s coming from Dearth to the north, across that mountain.” I finished by pointing at the space elevator.

The small alien bat creature followed my gaze, and then turned back to me and nodded. “Easy.”

“Okay, other than that, don’t cause anybody grief, please? Just be a good neighbor and try to get along with everybody who lives here. If you have a problem, come to me, or one of the hobbs to tell me, and we’ll get it sorted out. You good with all that?” I asked.

“Hey, cmon! It’s Morbin! Of course I’m good with that. You’re building me a bar, right?” He grinned and nudged me with an incredibly pointy elbow.

“Yes, I’m building you a bar. Everybody gets to use it, of course,” I added.

“Of course, of course!” Morbin said. “But you have bomber incoming now, so I guess no more time for drinks, huh?”

I blinked, then I glared at him. The little bat creature nodded and pointed with one oversized arm to the north. “Just took off from their pad. Single bomber hovercraft, I know that engine sound anywhere. Morbin no joking,” he said, cutting off my next question.

“Axle! Secure the spider ranch and get below!” I shouted, reaching in my bag for my cracked helmet. With it in place, my HuD wavered into place on the smashed screen, tiny cracks cobwebbing through the image of Rayna on my phone.

“Rayna!” I shouted as soon as she answered. “Get the Fumble-Bees in the air and get everyone below, we have incoming!” I hurriedly swiped up our main affiliate page and confirmed my fear. Our church tag had fallen off. “Direct attack this time!” I shouted into the coms.

The hobbs near me were already moving, and Morbin was rushed off to the elevator, where a crowd was forming. People fled through the open gate at the far end of the park, and rushed to get into the elevator, as Hobbs ran down the line of houses, shouting and banging on doors.

In the distance, I saw Mel, clutching her sketchpad and handgun, staring up at the sky while the packed elevator lowered underground. Those who couldn’t get on board the first elevator either ran for the far side of the park or took cover under a mud-crete structure.

Hobbs ran for cover under mud-crete, as tiny pinpoints of light emitted from the storage barn. I followed them to see the Fumble-Bee hive stationed in the upper floor of the barn, a hob in an armored face-mask operating the control on the side. A grid of the bees flew into place over the entire campground, about fifty feet in the air.

The bees were lit up as they moved into position, but once the grid was in place, it went dark with a blink.

Ordo grabbed my arm and tugged until I followed him under the main gate’s mud-crete overhang, where we watched and waited. Within seconds, the whine of an overburdened hovercraft engine approached from the north.

I leaned out to see it, waving off Ordo and the other hobbs. I’d be fine even if a bomb hit me, though I was rather concerned about the headache I’d had all day. Another concussive blast wouldn’t be helpful for that, so I stayed close to cover, just in case.

The hovercraft was larger than the one that Phyllis had thrashed earlier that day, but just. It had a boxy undercarriage, and as it passed by far overhead, little more than a dark shape in the night, it released several small shapes, to fall directly at us.

One of the Fumble-Bees lit up and streaked at the head of the falling shapes, then more followed it. They flew at the bombs, latched on, and activated their defensive electrical charges, detonating the explosives in mid-air. The first one rocked the air over the campground in a blast of bright orange flame and force, and was followed quickly by another, as the drones found their targets.

The tiny drones flew in an orderly line after the falling bombs. Dearth had meant to carpet bomb us, and the hovercraft was still releasing them in rows. Fumble-Bees flew in a brightly lit line toward the hovercraft, and a trail of explosions began climbing in the sky as they detonated each in succession.

The hovercraft tried to pull up, but not before the Fumble-Bees were within range. They chased it, latching onto bombs still in the bomb-bay and detonating them, causing a chain of explosions in the sky as the craft blew into glittering pieces and streaks of flame.

Down the line of houses, I saw Morbin stagger out of the apartment he and his group of hobbs had taken shelter in. He raised both arms to the air and cheered. “Morbin time!” he shouted.

I shook my head. Rayna signed off and I called Axle back. As I stood watching the grid of Fumble-Bee drones returning to the hive, Axle answered.

“Yeah boss,” he said, distractedly looking at something in his hands.

“Hey, the bee drones just saved our asses by forming up a massive grid and intercepting the bombs,” I said.

The Knowle blinked. “Yes, I told you they would do that.”

I nodded, frowning. “Yeah, sure, but now that I’ve seen it I want other things from the bees. Cause that was awesome. Can we use these things to take Prescott? Just keep feeding the hive bees and have them fly down everyone’s throats or something.”

Axle was shaking his head before I finished speaking. “Not possible. This is actually enough of a bastardization that I doubt the affiliate that makes them would tolerate this use of their product.”

I blinked rapidly. “Tolerate?”

Axle nodded. “Yes, their programming is set from the home affiliate, we can only use them for specified tasks. This counts, but barely. If you tell the drones to attack someone by flying down their throat, they simply won’t obey that order.” He paused and scowled, shaking his head. “I don’t think there’s a way to even give them an order like that. It’s a lot of programming red tape, but basically defensive actions only. This thing is meant to be fending off random Sleem or stray mushbugs, not waging war. We can bend its rules only so far, I was actually quite proud of this tactic.”

The Knowle looked away again. “Besides, Prescott is way too big for their range. They do five acres, tops. That Dearth elevator facility and port covers way too much territory.”

I frowned and sighed.

“I’ll take that sigh to mean you’re good. No more questions?” Axle droned, swiping at his BuyMort interface.

“For now, but I want more of these hives,” I said, trying to keep the whine out of my voice.

“You should want more Fumble-Bee hives, they’re very useful. It was smart of Rayna to order this to get the Sleem under control. This hive is enough for our purposes for now, but they’re not expensive. I can order enough to cover whatever area you desire, but we will need to install them at regular intervals to ensure coverage.”

“Alright, thank you Axle. I appreciate it, even if you did shoot down my awesome idea,” I grumbled.

The Knowle gave me a toothy grin. “That’s my job, boss.” He nodded and disconnected the call.

I took my helmet off again, tucking it away in my bag and looking for the ravens. In the near distance, I saw them winging it for the downed craft, like the professional scavengers they were. I probably should have wanted to race them for the salvage, but I was confident in Axle’s Sleem farm set up and was just happy that we didn’t lose anybody else in the latest attack.

The Fumble-Bee hive had a pallet of fresh drones at the side, ready to replace those that sacrificed themselves in our defense. As it stood, we could withstand thousands of bombs, and Axle had assured me we would be able to buy more of them as we went.

When I arrived in the lot where my house and Molls car were, I saw that she was outside, in her heated robe, with the elements glowing at the back of her hood. “Hello Tyson,” she crooned.

“Hey Molls. Just came to see if you’re okay,” I said, slipping into her arms for an embrace and kiss. Her large eyes flicked to the hobb babysitter, and I let her go with a smile. “Sorry.”

She blinked at me and shook her head. “Never apologize for being affectionate toward me, I always enjoy it,” Molls whispered.

I smiled and took her hand, motioning toward her car. The blue juice had reinvigorated me, and Molls’ smile grew wider as she slid to the old Lincoln. As I was getting in behind her, her tail somehow coiled around me at the same time she used it to shut the door. Day five of BuyMort ended with me getting significantly less sleep than I probably should have.

Chapter 37

Our time was cut short at an inopportune moment, by bombs detonating over-head. I staggered out of the Lincoln, nude and staring at the sky, while clutching my shotgun. Molls shut the door quickly behind me with her tail. The suit activated and covered my junk, but I didn’t need either the armor or the privacy. The campground was awake and active, but nobody was looking at me.

In the sky above us, dark shapes plunged from high altitude, to be caught by our Fumble-Bee net at the last moment, detonating a mere fifty feet over our heads. The latest whistled in, and a drone lit up as it gave chase, catching and detonating the explosive.

Sound washed over me, and I clapped my hands over my ears as they erupted in high pitched whines.

“Damage detected user!” My cartoon starfish popped up and stuffed cotton balls in its own non-existent ears.

I covered my ears as the next bomb went off, this time just getting buffeted by the sound and force. Our drones were still catching the bombs, but they were having a harder time

“That’s in your cranial area, so user restrictions prevent me from performing repairs,” the cartoon explained, shrugging its starfish shoulders at the end.

I ignored it and turned back to the car. Molls opened the door and emerged, ducking her head and covering the sides of her head as another bomb went off overhead. She was wearing her robe, but it was loosely wrapped and revealing. She tossed me my silk pants and sandals before moving to open the trunk of her car.

A moment later, she was wearing the oversized helmet I had seen on her before. She adjusted her robe and tied it tighter, activating the heating element with a quick shudder. I dug my own cracked helmet out and slid it on over my head, grateful the hearing protection still worked. Molls’ helmet must have had something similar, for her hidden hearing organs.

I looked away, back to the explosions in the sky. I couldn’t see any vessel, the ordinance was merely coming in on top of us.

Molls touched my arm and said, “What’s happening, Tyson?”

“Dearth is bombing us again.” Another bomb went off overhead, causing us to duck. It was like the worst fireworks show in the world, all just for us.

People were rushing past in the road, heading for the second compound and the entrance to the underground. I made a mental note to upgrade that elevator and grabbed Molls by the hands.

“I think you should go underground, Molls. It isn’t safe up here. I have to go find my hobbs, figure out how to stop this.” I said.

She nodded, then dipped down to kiss me deeply, on the lips. I returned the kiss, rubbing my hand against the pebbled scales on her chin.

“Be safe, Tyson,” the Nah’gh woman said. She pulled me into an embrace against her chest, and I wrapped my arms around her. Her tail coiled around my legs lightly but let go the moment I shifted my feet. We kissed again, briefly this time, and she moved around to the car.

Doofus scrambled up my driveway, tail tucked firmly between his legs. He ran straight past Molls and slid in the gravel to my feet. When I patted his side, he whined and licked his nose.“It’s okay buddy, run to the office, there’s a barn you can hide in, that’ll help!” I told him. He cocked his head at me sideways.

A button projected on the ground from his collar, and as he ran away, he stepped on it. “Loud!” his new mechanical voice said, as the oversized dog ran. He kicked up gravel and dirt, moving fast as he vanished over the privacy hill. It was nearly three in the morning, so it was time to get Doof and Phyllis moving anyway. I’d just stick with him until we left for the hive.

Molls acquired a shoulder bag from inside the trunk before closing it and slithering quickly away toward safety. I slipped my sandals back on and took the privacy mound after Doofus, jogging past Axle’s stumpy library toward the front gate, where I could see Fumble-Bee drones lighting up as they exited the storage barn and went to replace lost drones on the grid above us.

My phone showed I had missed calls from both Morbin and Rayna, so I called the latter. She picked up after a single ring, and I could see that she was below ground with the elevator crew, helping unload people and directing traffic into the hobbs’ area. Nobody had even asked, they simply made room for everyone during the time of crisis.

“Boss, good,” Rayna grunted.

“Situation report?” I asked, still moving toward the gate.

“Morbin warn us bombs coming. Fumble-Bees already in air, seem to be working so far.” She turned to help an older hobb couple off the elevator.

“How is our supply of bees?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Enough. Hive says our stock can last two days at this rate. We bought plenty with security budget.”

“Okay, thank you. Where are we on the yarsp defense?” The detonations in the air above us echoed across the valley. There was no way the bugs weren’t on their way already.

“Mo-gas in place. Trenches dug, spikes laid, spears ready,” Rayna listed off. “It early still, but this bring them for certain. Tollya getting first shift ready,” she said.

I nodded. “Good, thank you Rayna. I’ll be in touch before I leave for the hive, let me know if you need anything then.”

She grunted and hung up the phone. I was glad to know that the place hadn’t fallen apart without me, but it did bother me that I missed an attack because I was in bed with Molls.

That relationship had taken a turn into the purely sexual territory, since we broke the dam, so to speak. Not that I was complaining, but I definitely saw some complications coming because of it. We would have to be more careful, I made a mental note to keep my phone on alert mode when I was with her.

I sighed as I walked toward the storage barn. A headset-wearing hobb fed a small line of new drones into the hive, even as another tiny hatch opened and a Fumble-Bee zipped out to join the grid and sacrifice itself for our defense. When I glanced inside the barn, I could see Doofus’ hind legs sticking out from behind a stack of couches.

Morbin was on his deck, wearing some kind of heavy headphones and staring up at the sky. When a bomb blasted apart in a gout of flame, he raised his long arms and cheered. He looked over and spotted me, before leaping off his balcony and extending his wings to glide over the residential lot.

With a light flutter, Morbin landed at my side. He carefully tucked his wings in and looked up at me with a toothy grin. “Hey, boss! Don’t worry, I no tell anyone why you missed the call.”

I scowled down at him. “You heard all that huh?”

Morbin nodded, his grin firmly in place. “Morbin hear everything.”

I took a deep breath through my nose and flinched as another bomb went off overhead. The concussive force was lessened, and when I looked up I saw that the grid had elevated, to give the drones more time to catch the fast moving bombs.

The small bat creature at my side made a small whistling noise that increased in intensity until he flung his wings wide and mimicked an explosion with his mouth. It matched perfectly with another bomb detonating in the air over our heads.

“These not coming from any ship, you lucky you hired Morbin,” he chided me. “I heard them coming and got word to your hobbs. Very good employee, no?”

I blinked and glared at him. “If there’s no ship, where’d the bombs come from?”

The little bat blinked his eyes at me and shrugged. “Up there.” He pointed with a single, long finger digit. Another bomb went off, even further up this time, near the edge of the Fumble-Bee’s range.

I was glad they were able to cover as much airspace as they were, the damage to the spider ranch would be worse the closer the bombs hit.

After the sound and shockwave rolled over us, Morbin leaned in and nudged me with his elbow. “This Nah’gh woman of yours,” he started. “She have a sister? Friend?”

“Control your appetites, Morbin, she’d swallow you whole.” I fished out the bottle of tequila and offered it to him. When he grabbed it with both hands, my grip tightened, and I met his eyes. “And be very careful who you gossip about around here. Is that understood?”

Morbin gulped and nodded, accepting the bottle as I let go. He set it on the ground and started working the cap free. It was one of those stupid little disks of plastic with a real cork embedded in it, and his sharp claws struggled to grip its slick edges.

“You no need to threaten. Morbin cool,” he sulked, as he worked on the cork. It pried up with a satisfying pop, and the bat leaned the bottle to take a swig.

“I don’t like being extorted,” I answered. Another bomb hit the grid, exploding far overhead. Doofus poked his head out of the storage barn, looking around nervously. I patted my leg and he walked over to lean on me heavily.

Morbin’s eyes widened at the dog, and he wiped his mouth from the bottle, sticking out his long arm to Doofus.

“Hello! I’m Morbin! What’s your name?” He asked.

Doofus delicately sniffed his claw, then lightly licked it. He lit up the ground in front of himself with a single button and pawed at it. “Doofus!” his machine said.

The dog yawned and leaned on me harder, a clear suggestion that I should scratch his ears. Poor Doof, he’d always hated fireworks, and this was just a beefed up version.

I did his bidding and scratched behind both ears. Doofus groaned in pleasure and lidded his eyes. The gem on his collar sprang to life, and Doofus pawed at a button made of light on the ground.

“MMMMM!” the device said.

His eyes shot open when the next bomb hit far above us, but his response was muted now that they were far enough away.

“You should stick with me, Doof. We’re going on a job today,” I said, as I straightened up and reached for Morbin’s bottle of tequila, as he took a long pull from it

“Hey, woah, take it easy. This stuff affects you by weight, you know?” I pulled the bottle away from him and recapped it, tucking the remains of it away in my bag. The thing was down almost half-way already.

Morbin burped. “I want to eat the worm,” he explained with a shrug.

“I can’t tell you how many people on my world have suffered for that particular quest. Tell you what,” I said, leaning over to look him in the eye. “We’ll get to the worm together, and then you can eat it. How’s that sound?”

Morbin’s eyes lit up. As I suspected, he was just a friendly drunk. Someone offering to drink with him was likely all he really wanted. The more I thought about it, the lonelier his ability to hear made him feel to me. Of course he wanted a friend. When you knew everyone’s secrets, it was hard to make friends.

Morbin started nodding, then hurriedly reached out a claw and shook hands with me. “Deal, boss. Deal! When do we eat this worm?”

“Later. I’ll share a few drinks with you if I make it home, and everyone here survives through the morning,” I said as I straightened up. Been a while since I’d had tequila for breakfast, and there was no way I was eating before we left, as tense as I was. Getting fucked up with an alien bat sounded like a good way to celebrate surviving what I had to go do next, if I did.

“Oh, psh!” he exclaimed. “Survive this, survive that. Life on Nu-Earth not so scary. If things get out of hand, Morbin just portal out. BuyMort trips to Storage are free, and Morbin rich now. Can easily afford passage off.”

That made the attitude of a handful of my alien co-workers make a lot more sense. These life and death struggles were just a job to them because most of them could portal to Storage anytime they wanted to, with a simple BuyMort pod. Then, if they had any funding under them, they weren’t trapped and could leave again, finding a new affiliate to attach themselves to.

Obviously, the hobbs didn’t seem to be working on that methodology, as three had died defending us already. But the casual attitude in the face of death made more sense, knowing that Storage was there waiting to catch you if things got too rough.

Morbin stuck his hand out at me, recapturing my attention. “You promise, we drink together when you get back?”

I smiled and shook his claw. The little guy was making me miss my intoxicant habits, and I nodded at him. “I’d love to, Morbin. I’m into making new friends.”

His jaw dropped as his eyes went wide again. “Me too! Good! We chase worm together later.” He sauntered off back down the residential lane, whistling as he went.

He whipped his wings out to the sides, the picture of pure bliss. Above us, the starry night backdrop of earth exploded, another bomb stopped by the rigorous buzzing of the worker drones.

Chapter 38

Doofus’ shield activated when the shockwave hit us, even though it was miniscule by the time it arrived. He whimpered and plodded back into the storage barn, where he sat and watched the sky with untrusting eyes.

Tollya approached, at the head of a group of hobbs armed with extra long spears. She raised her chin at me, thumping her chest with a spear of her own. The hobb woman was already wearing her helmet.

“Squad!” She shouted over her shoulder. “Deploy on wall, reinforce northern primary force!”

The hobbs behind her all grunted or saluted and began marching up the mud-crete stairs to the wall top. The hobbs on guard made room, and the squad began marching north on the wall, spreading out and placing spears every few paces. For all ten of our acres, we didn’t have enough hobbs to cover every inch of wall top, but something told me we might need exactly that.

I pulled up the Fumble-Bees in my helmet, doing my best to ignore the cracks. With the grid in full defensive operation against the bombs falling from directly overhead, I only had a handful of Bees to use as my eyes. So I sent them to evaluate the defenses.

The hobbs had been busy, while I spent pleasurable time with Molls. A six foot deep, six foot wide trench had been cut in the desert hardpack, then lined with mud-crete, and filled with rebar spike emplacements. This was done to every stretch of wall on the northern, eastern, and western sides of the compound.

Roads were left in place and given supporting structures of mud-crete on the sides. Kill boxes of weaponry and hobbs had formed over each gate. Seven simple mud-crete towers were added to the northern walls in the shape of a large letter L. Four towers were attached to the Silken Sands wall, and three were attached to the Sundew Valley wall.

They were approached by simple walkways, little more than planks with rope handles that could be extended or retracted as needed, to deploy or regain spear-wielding hobbs. Each tower pole had sharpened rebar spikes, embedded in the mud-crete and bent to block any climbers.

Over the pits on the northern corner was a line of sprinklers, jutting out from the wall at several intervals. A long, thin, metal pipe connected the line of simple showerheads, and fed from Mo-gas barrels on either side. It was a gravity based system, just pour the fluid in, it’ll fill the pipes and drain out through the affixed spigots relatively evenly. All the hobbs on the wall had to do was tip the barrels over, and the entire trench would have Mo-gas rained down into it.

At the base of the wall, several stacks of tall spears were piled, awaiting distribution. Our versatile arsenal from the militia had been brought out as well, and the grenade machine gun had been affixed to the northern wall, able to defend the secondary gate if needed.

All along the inside of the paved hallway extending from the secondary gate to Sundew Valley’s area, more rebar caltrops had been laid. The area was impassable for them. It also had another range of Mo-gas sprinklers installed along the walls top lip. Steely eyed hobbs and humans lined the walls, gripping weapons and waiting for the inevitable rush.

They were ready for war with the yarsps. I disconnected from the Fumble-Bees and went to get in my truck. It was time to go hit the hive.

The gobbs had ripped into my seats, trying to find metal springs and chunks of fluff to sell, so it was an uncomfortable ride over to Phyllis’ trailer. The seat wasn’t unusable, but it felt lumpy. That, coupled with the dented and torn metal exterior, led me to daydream about upgrades to our fleet.

Couldn’t start off with much worse than a squad of ripped up pick-ups, running on even shittier gas than usual. The mo-gas made the truck belch thick, black smoke into the air when I started it up, and the smell of exhaust was inescapable. I really didn’t like the mo-gas, but it had checked a box, and we’d gotten a ton extra to make the militia feel like they weren’t just trading guns for their food. What the hell I was going to do with regular shipments of the crap, I didn’t know.

At least it was useful for burning the yarsps out of our trenches.

Phyllis was in her docking port, hanging from thin, mechanical arms as something sparked at her side. She was smoking a joint, as usual, and thin wreathes of heavy marijuana smoke wafted toward my open doorway.

At least the seatbelt still worked, not that road rash would kill me.

I was tempted to lean on the truck's horn, but it was three in the morning, and I would hate myself for breaking camp quiet time. A bomb went off overhead, making me and Doof flinch in the car, and I chuckled. Habits. Powerful things sometimes. I hit the horn and flashed my lights at the old lady in the mech suit.

Our headlights had all been smashed out by the gobbs, so Axle found us cheap replacements. The high beams still worked to make everything brighter, but they also changed tint and washed the whole area in red light. It was nauseating and I quit after only two flashes.

Phyllis turned and glared at me, lifting one finger to indicate I should be more patient. I leaned out of the door and shrugged. “We gotta move, Phill! Bugs are coming, we might get trapped here.”

The sparks on her arm stopped, and the mechanical arms retracted. Her gun-arm had changed again, this time sporting an enormous heat shield around a thin nozzle that had several reinforcing smaller arms in a spiral around it. As I watched, the entire construction segmented and reverted, becoming an oversized mechanical hand again.

Her armor was also repaired and had a slight sheen to it in the headlights. She casually walked over to the truck and climbed into the bed, creaking the vehicles already overworked shocks.

Axle and the hobbs had gone over the fleet after the gobb attack, and repaired the mostly minor functional damage, but I had my concerns as we turned and drove down the main road. Each divot in the gravel nearly bottomed us out.

The main gate guards opened the doors to let us out, and as we exited the metal doors, Afflqwst pinged at me. I focused on it in the helmet and pulled up the notification.

Quest – Prepare your affiliate for an upcoming wild animal attack, scheduled to take place during your absence.

REQUIREMENTS:

1. Draft plan of battle. (complete)

2. Modify structural defenses. (complete)

3. Affiliate must survive attack. (incomplete)

4. (Optional) Say final goodbyes to important affiliate members. (Failed.)

PROBABLE OUTCOME – Heavy affiliate casualties, loss of affiliate infrastructure. (30%).

POSSIBLE OUTCOME – Affiliate morale boost and food surplus. (70%).

REWARD – Credit level upgrade.

I was happy to see the odds turn firmly in our favor, but 70% wasn’t exactly a confidence boost. Afflqwst knew more than I did, which worried me when it made these assessments.

Still, no way through but forward. The bombs overhead weren’t stopping, and the yarsps would be drawn to the sound and vibrations like flies to shit. I chuckled as I pulled up Axle and called him. I needed some advice.

The Knowle answered on the first ring. He was underground, in residential somewhere, helping with the influx of our people. Anyone not on the wall was being kept underground.

“Axle, how is it?” I asked.

His lips curled and showed teeth for a moment. “Heavy. The bombing is coming from an orbital platform, the other end of their elevator. We’re lucky you hired Morbin, he heard them coming anyway, simply the sound of them falling from orbit.”

“The Fumble-Bees have it though, right?”

“For the moment. If Dearth wises up and starts dropping construction supplies on us instead of electrically triggered bombs, we might be in a different situation. I suspect they are concerned about damage to their own facilities, the bombs we are defending against are quite small.” Another went off in the air above the truck, and Axle’s ears flinched from it. “And loud. These are designed to draw the yarps. I do not think they are actually attacking us. I think they are simply trying to keep the yarsps off their area, and focused toward ours.”

“Right, a tungsten rod would wreck Prescott if they dropped it on us.” I muttered.

“They’re programmed to go off immediately before they hit. Like drum beats on the surface, to draw the yarsps,” he said. His eyes widened and he licked his nose. “I’ve seen Dearth use this tactic before, on other worlds. There will be a great many yarsps, very soon.”

“Rayna is ready. She’s fighting for her home, and I’m going to stop the hive from being a threat. If she can shield us, I’ll do the rest,” I said. “But I could use your help. What else you know about yarsps that can help me?”

Axle sidled out of the crowd and to a wall, where he leaned and held up his phone. “There will be a queen. I have been studying your world, and the similarities between your bees and these yarsps is undeniable. There will be a dug hive, a warren of tunnels. There will be yarsps, and defender yarsps. Larger, more dangerous, they will be near the queen, at the heart of the hive.”

“Okay, that is more or less what I was imagining, thank you Axle,” I said. “Any suggestions?”

He blinked and nodded. “Don’t kill the queen, if you can at all preserve her.”

I nodded back. “I was thinking the same thing. This is a reliable food source if we do it right.”

“Exactly. It will be difficult to contain, but if you destroy most of their population, they will require a great deal of time to repopulate to the point of being a threat. It would buy us days,” the Knowle offered. I could see he was working the problem, so I just nodded and waited for him to continue.

“We could contain the hive, theoretically. I cannot imagine what their meat source is, they must have eaten most of the population of Prescott already, yet they continue to grow. It would be an immense undertaking, but not impossible,” he said, his eyes wandering the crowd around him. “We would need more hobbs. A lot more,” he muttered.

“For now, I’ll take it no longer being a threat every morning,” I said, turning the wheel to take the truck off-road.

The route I was taking led us part of the way back to the militia, going around the mountain to Prescott. But I turned off early, taking an old park ranger road that led through the state park. As I drove, slow and careful on the dirt road, I pulled up the Fumble-Bee footage and placed it in the corner of my vision. I was able to focus on the images while not taking my eyes off the road.

“Axle, I think I’m gonna let you go, I need to call Rayna,” I said, as movement became visible on the tree-line in my footage.

“They’re coming, aren’t they?” He asked.

I nodded, and he licked his nose before hanging up.

Rayna picked up as well, adding me to a group call she had in progress. “BlueCleave, boss added to call!” She barked.

“Boss! Boss!” The hobbs chanted, banging their chests. I rolled my eyes and thumped my chest back. They couldn’t see my facial expression, and the salute seemed to get me out of any other social responsibility to these people. I didn’t like the way they seemed to almost worship me, but I certainly didn’t want to damage morale before battle.”

“They’re coming,” I said simply. The words tasted like acid on my tongue as memories of them ripping me to pieces shot through my brain. Dearth was starting to really piss me off.

Chapter 39

Rayna nodded, from her position on the wall. I programmed a Fumble-Bee drone to follow her with a flick of my hand. It fell into an unobtrusive orbit, hovering just over her shoulder. Slowing the truck to better keep my eyes on the ‘road’ I started assigning the rest of the bees a position.

I only had access to five, so I put four in positions and left the fifth roaming. The rest were on the grid, keeping the bombs off our heads. From Dearth’s perspective, this was like throwing firecrackers to distract some bugs, so their port could operate in peace. They kept trying to step on us, like bugs. It was getting irritating. I had to do something about them before they attacked us directly, with enough force to do the job.

As I drove, I watched the high altitude drone footage. Rayna was watching the same thing and directed her hobbs across the entire wall, using the drones.

“North east corner prepare for attack! Spears and Mo-gas unless breached! This will be long fight! Preserve ammunition!” The hobb woman barked orders to her troops, and I watched as she led them.

A thin stream of exploratory yarsps trundled toward the north-east corner of the compound, Sundew Valley’s section. The first to arrive carefully descended into the trenches and began working their way around the rebar defenses. Long-handled spears punched into them from above, as hobbs silently did their morning’s work. Bombs flashed overhead, and the movement from the forest thickened.

Huge groups from the forest buttressed the lines of yarsps, and within seconds, the entire area was a flood of running insects.

Rayna moved, heading into the fighting herself, with Tollya at her side. “Sprinklers!” she yelled.

Two hobbs tipped barrels of Mo-gas over, flooding the sprinkler system.

I had to focus on my driving. The ranger trail threaded up the mountain part-way, and entire sections of it offered a view of the forest below. As we climbed, I saw more and more of the horde. Thousands of yarsps raced out of gaping holes in the mountainside, joining the flood of their kin, churning the earth beneath their claws.

“Rayna, you have incoming from my position. Big incoming.” I checked the aerial drone footage and shook my head, looking for Silken Sands through the trees. The horde of yarsps flowed from my position all the way down the mountain and through the forest, straight across the open patch of desert, to my walls.

The more of them that flooded in, the harder they pressed each other into the rebar. Soon, the trench was full of writhing, impaled, and still-fighting yarsps, into which Rayna tossed a lit match.

Grunts filled the air as the trench went up in flames. Oily smoke billowed up in a line, cutting off the vision of the defenders. They donned face-masks and goggles, and the hobbs on spear platforms were separated fully from their colleagues on the wall.

Civilians in the compound below hurled Molotovs over the wall, in the areas that didn’t have sprinklers installed. Patches of burning desert lit the running insects on fire, splashing flaming liquid onto one another as they moved.

Yarsps grunted in the morning air as smoke rose in a line from Silken Sands. Hobbs plunged spears down, over, and over, replacing them from the stockpile below when they broke. None of them fired rifles.

“BuyMort!” Rayna shouted. “Sell yarsp, whole shell, at seventy-five degrees internal temperature!”

Several BuyMort pods began to fill the air, flying from Prescott over the mountain toward Silken Sands. The first to arrive on the scene merely hovered high above the trench, scanning down into the flames. Several more arrived and began warping out individual yarsps, flitting back and forth across the battlefield.

The trench emptied, yarsps falling down into it as their dead companions were warped away. Our affiliate account began to ping with sales. I squinted at it in my cracked HuD as I tried to keep the truck crawling along up the mountain with a mech in the cargo compartment.

Purchase: Food, in shell cooked yarsp. Rarity, common. Condition, poor. 14 Morties dispensed.

Purchase: Food, in shell cooked yarsp. Rarity, common. Condition, good. 93 Morties dispensed.

Purchase: Food, in shell cooked yarsp. Rarity, common. Condition, excellent. 134 Morties dispensed.

The burnt ones sold for the least, but the closer to properly cooked the yarsp was sold at, the higher the price we got for it. Soon, the range of prices paid was steadily seventy to one-hundred and fifty morties.

“This is really quite a pretty morning, you know!” Phyllis shouted. She was looking in the other direction, where the desert twinkled in the night, pristine and peaceful. The nonagenarian was also smoking a fresh joint. I suspected she had hundreds of them stashed in her mech. When she shifted, I could see the beauty in the rearview mirror.

I breathed it in, before looking away to focus on the road.

The path ahead of us opened up, and we arrived at a ranger station half way up the mountain. It was stationed on a gentle plateau that allowed us a fantastic view of the battle in the valley below.

Silken Sands was a smoking smudge in the distance, surrounded by a seething mass that flooded from the forest across the desert. Every so often, a bomb would detonate in the air above it, lighting up the scene for an instant. I craned my neck to peer up and could barely make out the glint of the station at the top of the space elevator.

The cable hung massive on the other side of the mountain, blocking out the view of most everything else and appearing to rise from the top of the mountain itself. A gaping metal wound on my world.

My anger grew at Dearth. They had watched and waited as the Sleem rolled through Prescott, as the dream storms and yarsps had cleared out the rest of the survivors, and then they had moved in. It made sense. After all, why waste resources clearing out the locals when BuyMort would do it for you?

Even us, the last holdout in the area, they treated with a sense of disdain and neglect. Tossing firecrackers at us from their station, to bring down the bugs and cut their own security payroll for a morning. It made perfect business sense.

I shook my head and focused on my task. We had to infiltrate the hive and shut it down from inside. I had to figure out their meat source and determine if the queen was something we could sell or use to our own advantage in some other way. Live capture would be preferred, but all I needed to complete the Dearth bounty and earn my affiliate five hundred million morties was their bounty tag.

A bounty tag was a tiny robotic drone, similar in some ways to our Fumble-Bees. Its only purpose was to infiltrate monster holdouts like this and provide an automated payment from BuyMort to whoever could retrieve it. It was programmed to avoid other drones, so to claim one you typically had to lay hands on it yourself.

The tag we were after was buried in the mountain, at the heart of the yarsp hive, in the queen's chamber. I could see it blinking on my mini-map in the helmet, but it merely showed a direction, north-east and down.

Phyllis stretched and flicked her joint’s burnt out butt onto the ground.

“Phyllis!” I scolded. “What would the park rangers think?”

She scoffed and pointed at the empty parking lot. “No narcs here. Besides, it gives your ravens something to do, they follow me around for these butts like I’m dropping skittles.”

I shook my head and focused on the battle back home. It was going well. The flames had guttered, and the smoke cleared almost immediately. With the BuyMort pods warping out burning yarsps, the fires didn’t have the fuel needed to keep burning.

Fresh barrels were rolled into place. The hobbs weren’t pouring in full barrels, each seemed to be only about a quarter filled. Even in the face of overwhelming numbers like these, the hobbs fought smart, and economically.

Rayna got my attention. “Boss! Tyson!”

I turned away from Phyllis and Doof, who was peeing on a nearby signpost, and pulled her up to the center of my vision. “Yeah.”

“We are holding. If you threaten queen, horde will retreat. Come to attack you. Be ready!” She yelled, before turning back to managing her battle. The hobbs were moving with the yarsps, spreading out along the wall as the horde slowly enveloped the campground.

At the northern, eastern, and western sides of the compound, the fighting was fierce. Particularly the north-eastern corner, where most of their ordinance stood ready.

I turned away from the battle with a shake of my head. Rayna had that under control, I had my own job to do. I clapped my thigh and whistled to get Doofus’ attention, and his head poked up from a nearby scrub bush.

“Time to get to work, let’s go,” I said. Phyllis stuck her tongue out at me and lit another joint, falling into step as I started walking toward the nearest yarsp hole.

Chapter 40

We ended up having to climb down part of the slope to gain access, until Phyllis lead the way, skidding and sliding down the mountain. Her mechanical legs tore up the ground and ripped out any cacti in our way, so Doofus and I picked our way down in her wake.

The yarsp horde had mostly cleared out of their tunnel system, leaving churned earth and a sickly sweet odor in the air. I stood in the entrance of the tunnel and took it in.

When they dug intentionally, yarsps consumed part of the earth they moved. It was a natural part of their diet, according to Axle, but only when the hive was growing. The queen would ingest regurgitated, mineral enriched bile from her yarsps to increase the amount of eggs she could lay, which would hatch rapidly. The excretions from the yarsps would then bond with the remaining dug earth and create a hard, shell like surface on the ground, more akin to rock or tile than loose soil.

So when yarsps proliferated in an area, they typically punched several large holes in the ground, creating their own cave networks. Most forms of iron based planets were perfectly suited to host yarsps because of this dietary oddity.

What it meant for me was a maze to navigate.

We stepped inside, ready and waiting for a yarsp attack that didn’t come. The bulk of their forces had pushed out of the hive and were headed for Silken Sands. I could still see the flash of bombs in the air, and the intermittent pillars of smoke. We had approached from the far side of their hive, and the bulk of their numbers were focused in the center, forming a straight line out of the mountain.

A massive bulk of lethal insects rampaged through the forest below us, directly toward our home and everyone we knew. I tried not to imagine returning home to find it empty or watching them die on the Fumble-Bees cameras.

My helmet mapped the tunnels as we walked, and I quickly began to sense a theme. The warren of tunnels was secured by only having one tunnel up or down between levels. We had to walk over a mile to find the first one, using my map and the bounty tag to navigate a general direction.

The tunnels were mostly loose earth, with the occasional tile-like step on excreted soil. As we went deeper, the occurrence of the harder earth became more common. The yarsps instinctively avoided excreting upon other excretions, which tiled the entire hive from the center out. Walls and even ceilings were no exception, but at our depth, the tiling was random and made for difficult walking.

Claw marks were everywhere, but impossible to follow. On the churned earth, the entire thing was a muddled mess, and on tile it was nothing but scratches. So we followed the map.

Phyllis kept her plasma weapon in blade mode, illuminating the tunnels around us. She insisted this was for Doofus, since the light faded to nothing after the first twists and turns. My own low-light vision adjusted, and we walked in relative quiet. The tinny sounds of the battle back home came through in my helmet, keeping me anxious and jumping at shadows.

The deeper we went, the broader and wider the network of tunnels became. With how rapidly the yarsps had dug out the mountain, I considered the possibility of other regions on earth, and what they had become since BuyMort.

Only once we had found and descended our third tunnel down did we get attacked. A meager group of five yarsps had been guarding the tunnel and surged toward us the moment we came into earshot. The excreted tile resonated with each of Phyllis’ heavy foot falls, and the scurrying insects went directly for her.

Doofus barked and splattered a yarsp against the wall as it tried to race past him. I drew my magic sword Falcor and waded into range to lop the thorax off a passing yarsp.

Phyllis swung her blade of plasma, and I ducked to stay clear of the heat wave that followed. The charging yarsps were all seared in half with a chorus of grunts, with the exception being the lead yarsp, which dodged her blade only to be crushed by a heavy mechanical foot.

Skittering sounds echoed off the cavern walls around us, and I looked to Doofus as he started barking. He was stationed in front of the tunnel nearest us, and as I watched, yarsps poured out into our chamber. They were packed in so tight that even Doofus barking full bore couldn’t stop the outpouring.

Sonic blasts from his voice weapon blasted into the swarm, slamming entire portions of them into each other and the walls or ground. Ichor splattered as yarsps died and I rushed forward to protect my dog as the mass of violent insects reached him.

Phyllis was at my side, and both Doofus and I hit the floor as her arm-blade roared overhead. Dozens of yarsps died with a grunt of solidarity, and I waded in to deal with what was left, swinging my atomically-sharpened sword. The grunting rose in volume as Phyllis unleashed her new weapon variant on the swarm.

Her gun arm shifted, portions breaking apart and folding away into the greater bulk of the mech’s frame as others took their places. The heat shield formed, and each of the smaller arms around the edge of her cannon began to spark in rhythm. A stream of contained plasma rushed from the nozzle to the sparks and burst into a geyser of roaring blue-white flame. Thin lines of energy lanced out from the barrel, keeping the plasma contained, and preventing it from igniting the air all around us.

The realization that Phyllis was now wielding a weapon that could ignite our entire planet’s atmosphere if she wasn’t careful with it passed through my mind, but was rejected as unimportant. There was nothing I could do about it anyway.

I could feel the heat washing back over me, and Doofus’ shield activated, protecting him from the backwash. But the yarsps were crisped. Most of the insects in the main cone of her weapon became ash. Those on the walls or ceiling simply charred down to exoskeletal remains, with blackened strings of flesh attaching them inside.

The tile on the walls blackened from the sheer heat, and when Phyllis let go of the trigger and turned back, portions of her own suit front were glowing with heat. The heat shield around the weapon wavered, bright white and fading in color. It cycled down through various shades before cooling to its original black, and we were in no further danger.

I looked around and shrugged. “BuyMort, I’d like to sell all the dead yarsp at my location.”

“Those better go into an account for us to split,” Phyllis said. Her face-shield slid open, releasing a cloud of acrid smoke.

“Fine,” I replied. “Sales go into a separate account. You’ll get your cut.”

I played with my BuyMort settings to get that arranged, while Doofus approached the mounds of ash in the tunnel to sniff them. He straightened up and sneezed, before approaching me.

His buttons lit up the ground in between us, and Doofus looked down to pick something to say. “Hunt!” the first button said. Doofus concentrated, looking for the right word, before he settled on “Pack!”

Then he wagged his tail and pressed both buttons in quick succession. “Hunt with my pack!” the board exclaimed. Doofus sat and wagged his tail at me, panting happily.

I scrubbed the top of his head. “Yeah, you did good! Thanks for the warning on that last group.”

Doofus stepped on the second button again, before turning back to the tunnel. “Pack!” the machine said for him.

A low growl emitted from his throat, and I fixated on the tunnel. Red dots filled my vision, and the rattling thunder of more sharp legs filled the tunnels around us.

Phyllis started firing down the tunnel, her bolts of red plasma lighting the curving holes in the earth. Yarsps fell from the walls and ceiling, burning just from the proximity. Any yarsps the bolts hit immediately burst apart in flaming chunks.

I readied my sword again, staying close to Doofus’ side. I had planned on them doing the bulk of the ranged work, since I had only a few MIRV shells left for my highwater blaster. Playing bodyguard was fine by me.

Pocketing Mr. Sada’s ring, I summoned the breaker gauntlets one at a time, passing the sword between them. The gloves would at least help protect my crystalline colonies if I got overwhelmed again.

The rush of insects flooded from the tunnel, and Phyllis changed her arm’s configuration to the broad plasma blade again. Doofus and I took a few steps back and let the old lady work. He barked at any yarsps who managed to escape the scrum and head our way, but most of them focused on Phyllis.

She laughed and muttered as she crushed, burned, and slashed her way through the crowd, but it kept growing. More yarsps crowded the tunnel. Doofus was growling, hackles raised, as something new pushed its way out of the packed tunnel.

A long legged yarsp with a significantly bigger body shoved free of the crowd and extended its legs. It held back and allowed the smaller yarsps to bunch up in front of it, coursing around its legs and under its thorax. After Phyllis had sawed through them with a casual swipe of her plasma blade, the tall yarsp reared back, lowered its head, and slammed into Phyliss’ chest.

She went down, grappling the huge yarsp. It grunted as she crushed it against her chest, but the mech was down. Yarsps swarmed all over her, rushing past as they streamed toward us. Doofus started barking, rapid fire. He was clearly scared, and looked like he wanted to run, but stayed to fight at my side.

I raised my sword as they converged on us, sidestepping the first and hacking at it with the blade. The yarsp grunted as I cut its thorax cleanly in two, both halves of it falling to the ground. I stabbed its top half through the head, just to be safe.

Most of the yarsps were blasted back or scattered by the sheer force of Doofus’ sonic weapon. The few that made it through, I dealt with judiciously.

Phyllis must have added reinforcing, padding, or possibly both, because she was laughing while she was on the ground. “Oh they’re just excited,” she muttered as she crushed another yarsp against her mech’s chest. “Poor little dearies.”

She swept the blade around, clearing some space, and got started rolling over. I fought to keep Doofus covered, swinging my sword and trying my best to dodge the yarsps. A few got through, and by the time Phyllis was back in action, my suit had deployed tendrils to repair my lower limbs. But Doofus was safe and unharmed, that was what mattered.

The painkiller pumped through me, and the cavern took on a hazy glow. Smoke filled the ceiling, and flames flickered from dozens of dead or dying yarsps as Phyllis turned her plasma-thrower back down the hallway and turned another few dozen of them to ash.

I was on one knee beside Doofus, as the suit repaired my other leg. My sword had performed admirably. When I looked around, I counted roughly a dozen yarsps I’d had to hack apart, and most of them were fully dead. Axle must have been right, the sheath fixed it right up. So much for magic.

The hive went on, deep into the mountain. We moved at a quick pace, heading ever inward and toward the dot. At each point of descent, the next level’s defenders would swarm us in attack. More of the larger, warrior class yarsps were present the lower we went, mixed in with the groups of regular drones. We dealt with them.

And by that, I mean Phyllis dealt with them, crooning about how it wasn’t really their fault the entire time, unless she was asking me what the mortie count was on our communal fund. Doofus played rearguard and warned us when they were coming, and from exactly which direction. The mountain was a maze of torn earth and hardened yarsp excretions. All I really did was defend my dog as he showed us the way forward.

I had been right to bring him, he was absolutely mission critical, but his shield was ineffective against melee attackers, so I was terrified to let them anywhere near him. My sword was more of a machete in my hands, graceless, but lethal. At one point during the melee, I made a mental note to learn how to actually use a sword. It might help us all live longer if I knew how to use the tools at hand.

Chapter 41

The yarsps ripped into me, several more times as I defended Doofus, but I simply crushed them to keep the suit charged and focused on keeping the dog safe. My wounds didn’t matter. I barely even reacted to the pain, just the stimuli telling me where to attack next. Teeth grit inside my helmet, I ripped them apart as they ripped me apart. Fair trade.

As we walked between fights of our own, I watched the battle at Silken Sands intensify on the Fumble-Bees. Rayna had called for gunners to mount the wall and defend each batch of spear hobbs. They lunged and hacked, killing as many yarsps as possible as quickly as possible, but the front edge of the primary surge arrived. Thousands of yarsps at once rushed forward and slammed into the walls like a tide of writhing claws and mandibles.

They rushed over one another, slid and scrambled in a tumble of limbs to reach the wall top and mount it. Rayna called for the grenade launchers, and the desert in front of the walls erupted in fire. The Russian grenade machine gun clattered and thumped as it sent a line of high explosive directly into the primary bulk of the yarsp charge.

Yarsp limbs and body parts flew into the air from the explosions, knocking the momentum out of the horde's charge. The gunner turned to pump more grenades into the main mass of the horde, aiming for larger clusters, and doing their best to make each shot count. The desert burned and blasted apart as my hobbs fought for their lives and our home.

“BuyMort! Sell ALL dead yarsp!” Rayna screamed. The swarm of pods in the air hovered in overhead, staying out of the firefight below. They began warping out great swathes of dead insects, price per unit be damned. The main rush of yarsp simply fell, as the mountain of crushed, impaled, and skewered hive-mates below were sold at market.

Hobbs and humans on the wall opened fire, in coordinated pushes, to clear out the yarsp that had made it over, and the process began again, with rifles in the action. Spears were still stabbing, breaking, and being replaced, but now the primary bulk of the killing was being done by rifles.

Streaks of light lanced into the swarm, turning back the initial rush as the grenadier squad reloaded. Clusters of yarsp began building up again almost immediately, and Rayna began running between them to direct sales, as Tollya kept her safe with her shotgun. Humans and hobbs lined up on the wall top, lances of rifle fire streaking out into the sea of razor limbs and exploding grenades.

My breath caught and I faltered as I saw a bolt of golden light splash into the horde from the wall top. Molls was present, in her glowing armor, helping kill yarsps with her mother’s hard-light bow. Jada was at her side, heavy mace crushing any yarsps that managed to breach the wall.

The image flickered as a bomb went off over the compound, flashing light and allowing the defenders to see what they were up against for a brief instant. The desert crawled, a carpet of angry, swarming yarsps. Near the wall they rode each other in a rising wave of dead bodies, scrambling to get to my people.

The gates popped open with a scream of metal, and the tide lowered as the rebar filled hallway took the bulk of the insects. They charged and died, skewered, burned, and shot, filling the hallway with their corpses. Within moments the tide of dead was rising again.

Rayna ran the wall selling entire swathes of dead yarsps, but they piled up so quickly she was getting overwhelmed. Some yarsps began to make it over the wall.

More hobbs with nightsticks and rudimentary shields flooded up from the underground hatch, some carrying household tools as weapons. They ran after the breaches like a mob, all running to surround and silently beat to death any yarsp that made it over the wall. None of the hobbs shouted or screamed, they just did the work of keeping the wall safe, even those in rags.

The hobbs in my ear were breathing heavily, or sometimes shouting orders or urgent needs, like medical retrieval, but none of them screamed. None of them died either, the yarsps that breached the wall didn’t stand a chance, the vast majority were either shot dead or beaten and crushed the instant they set foot atop our mud-crete.

Rayna clicked something in the comms and suddenly I couldn’t hear any of the other hobbs. “Boss! Tyson!” she wheezed, out of breath. Tollya started shouting sales commands in the background.

“Too many. Holding for now, won’t last,” Rayna grunted. Another bomb went off overhead, flashing the valley with light. She wasn’t kidding. The horde had finally exited the valley fully, and was folding around the compound as it tried to climb the walls. Our squads were getting stretched thinner and thinner, and responding to the different breach threats would eventually cause a systemic failure. Only a matter of time.

I could see it from the Fumble-Bee aerial footage, and so could Rayna. She looked at me and breathed heavily. “Only chance is you threaten queen.”

“We’re close. Hold on,” I said, picking up the pace.

Doofus had started out the expedition into the cave a little skittish. He was by no means a chicken-heart dog, I’d seen him plunge head-first into Sleem to save me. But underground and dark was a tough ask for him. As the battles went our way, and he suffered no injury, he began to enjoy the fights more and more.

We plowed our way through another batch of warrior yarsp, with Phyllis again using her plasma-thrower to roast the entire tunnel before they became a threat. Doofus wagged his tail and happily barked at a pile of yarsp ash, scattering it against the nearby wall with a sonic blast. Then, in a long, fully tiled descent tunnel, we entered the hive's egg chamber.

A massive chamber opened up beneath us, with descending spirals of hard, tiled yarsp excretion forming gently sloping ramps. Tucked into the walls in hexagonal compartments, spiraling away into the dark abyss below, were eggs. Hundreds of thousands of eggs.

I blinked at the gold mine we had just walked into, raising a hand to Phyllis, as hulking yarsp warriors charged toward us from above. “Hold on Phill, we need to be careful. We want the queen alive, and these eggs are probably worth a fortune.” I glanced over at her as she lit another joint, nodding in a plume of illuminated smoke. “A fortune for us to split.”

The queen herself was hung from the ceiling like a bloated chandelier, her bulbous, egg laden thorax dangling into the darkness. She hung from a web of tiled excretion, filling the bottom of the cavern with more eggs. A trail of yarsp drones brought the oversized queen a constant buffet of vomit along a catwalk in the ceiling, each of them dribbling jellied meat from their mandibles into hers.

Phyllis swapped her weapon to the regular cannon and started taking careful aim at the incoming yarsps. They were swarming, coming primarily from the queen’s upper scaffolding. Phyllis aimed and fired, splattering a warrior, and scorching a hole in the tiled ceiling. The yarsps tucked their claws into the spaces between tiles, effectively scuttling across the ceiling and walls.

One dropped nearby and I hurtled toward it, sword slashing. With the tall ones I faced them at or above the level of my own head, so I just swung for limbs. Any that came within range were clipped off, grabbed and crushed, or torn off. Depends on if I needed to charge or not. Behind, beneath, or on top of my charging opponents, my cartoon starfish continuously danced.

Doofus barked at the incoming insects, sending them hurtling back, or crushing them against the stone walls. Eggs burst as Phyllis fired over and over into the oncoming rush, blasting holes into the nearby and distant walls alike. Ichor rained down over the chasm, and the queen bellowed and writhed, trying to get her distended lower portion out of danger.

Fortunately for her, Phyllis switched to the plasma blade as the warriors closed the distance. The fight was over shortly after that. Dead yarsps smoked and twitched, as Phyllis shut down her weapon and sighed in contentment.

“A day’s work well done,” she said. I heard the distinct sound of a joint being lit from inside her helmet, and soon after acrid smoke puffed from its vents. “Still plenty of eggs too.”

I stood at Doofus’ side, watching the now alone queen. Her brood lay around her in pieces or smashed on the walls and ceiling of the egg chamber. She reared her mandibles back and roared again.

Rayna whooped in my ear. “You did it! They backing off!”

I checked the Fumble-Bee footage. Bombs still lazily fell over Silken Sands, but the bulk of the swarm was retreating at full speed, heading for home. Heading for us.

At a glance, it appeared that over a thousand yarsps were running for our position,

“Thank you boss!” Tollya shouted over Rayna’s shoulder. Her face was covered in soot, in slits that matched her helmet’s visor. “Saved us!” she barked, before moving down the line to help another hobb. There was still work to be done.

“Casualty report?” I asked, holding my breath.

“Clear, no dead. Four injured, Doctor Miles with them already. Wall held!” Rayna shouted the last to her defenders, and the hobbs took up a cheer. Some humans joined in, weapons raised. In the distant background, I saw Molls, holding her bow and looking toward the main hobb station.

I glanced at the aerial footage, taking in the extent of the damage. The secondary gate had not held, once the main force arrived. Thankfully, the murder hallway lived up to its potential and stopped the horde before it could breach either of the reinforcing gates that lead into the compound.

There were hundreds of dead yarsps scattered around the compound, and groups of hobbs already gearing up for a work detail to butcher them. Many more lay on the ground outside, piles and rows of the violent insects still smoldering from the Mo-Gas.

The rush of sprinting yarsp would take some time to arrive at our location, and I felt confident Phyllis could roast them all in the primary tunnel as they arrived, so I wasn’t overly concerned. Safe in the knowledge that the affiliate had held, and those I cared for had survived, I turned to explore my current situation.

The answer to the mystery of the hive's access to unlimited quantities of meat was not immediately apparent, but the trail of yarsps barfing into the queen’s mouth had been coming from an excreted catwalk that sloped down to the other side of the massive cavern. It ramped down to meet a tunnel at the far side, which vanished into the dark.

“Phyllis, are you good to stay here? We have a shitload of yarsps coming in, and I suspect they’ll be primarily coming down this main tunnel. I was thinking you could just hold it with that mega-flame-thrower you have?” I asked.

“It’s a plasma thrower dearie, much hotter than fire. But yes, I can hold here and wait for the buggies. Just as long as I don’t kill the big one, right?” She said.

“Right,” I said, nodding. I turned my attention to the dog next.

“Hey Doof, you stay with granny Phill, okay?” I’m gonna go explore a little bit,” I told the dog. He cocked his head and met my gaze with his most serious ‘I’m listening to you’ face.

Then buttons sprang to life from his collar and lit up the floor in front of him. He stepped on his favorite button, and the machine snapped, “pack!”

I knelt and rubbed his head, feeling the prickle of his shield on my hand and wrist. “Don’t worry buddy, I’ll be careful. You stay and help granny Phill.”

“Pack!” the button said as he stomped it again. Then he licked my hand and turned to sit and pant up at Phyllis. He kept nervously eyeing the queen in the ceiling, but she was encased by excretion.

Without tearing her much smaller upper portion free of the giant, hanging thorax full of eggs, the queen would be helpless to move. Her thorax was massive, pale, and pulsing with movement. It was also supported by the excretion structure. The queen had multiple laying channels, where eggs piled up in a soft landing pad of birthing ooze.

The shelves in the wall had been built specifically to hold up her weight, and to spread out the area her eggs were deposited in. I stared down, using my helmet's mapping feature, and couldn’t see the bottom for sheer range. At each level down, the hanging thorax partially rested on a shelf of hardened excretion, supported from below by pillars of the stuff.

As I passed by a shelf of undamaged eggs, I paused to sell one to BuyMort, just to see what price I could get for each. To my surprise, a BuyMort pod arrived almost immediately, coming from the queens feed tunnel.

Purchase: Livestock, Yarsp egg. Rarity, common. Condition, good health. 5 Morties dispensed.

There were enough eggs that I wasn’t terribly concerned. It would add up, and the real goal was preventing this next batch from storming our gates tomorrow morning. Some of them already had wriggling yarsp forms inside.

I ordered the pod to sell every egg in the room and walked toward the far tunnel. It, like the rest of the cavern, was tiled with hardened patches of excretion, but the wear on this section was immense. Some of the tile was worn down, and every millimeter was covered in heavy scratching.

It also looked like it might be long. I picked up the pace, breaking from a walk to a jog.

Chapter 42

A few minutes later, daylight shone at the far end, and a familiar stench wafted to me. I unsheathed my sword and kept running. Shortly after, I was in the sunlight, running on excreted tile heavily stained with blood. Smears of red liquid covered the floor, walls and even spatters on the ceiling. Days of yarsps dragging meat through the area showed.

The light grew stronger as did the stink, and I slowed my jog to a walk as I approached the exit of the tunnel. The smell of flesh-tape was strong, pervasive. We had walked clear through the mountain, and come out on the far side, in the edges of Prescott. My minimap showed a sprawling city just beyond the tunnel exit, but when I peeked through the exit hole, all I could see was a towering wall. On the other side, in a building-sized vat, sat a mountain of festering meat. The source of the rotting stench.

At first glance, I thought it was a literal pile of ground pork that stacked up to about four stories in height. Then the skinny, pointed top of it turned to look at me with bobbling eyes that wavered and watered. The top of the meat pile opened as if hinged, and great slabs of bone appeared in even rows, forming teeth.

“Oh hello!” It said, lifting a chubby little arm of meat to wave. Bits of viscous gore fell free from the arm as it waved, swinging great slabs of underarm back and forth.

I blinked, staring at my surroundings. The meat creature took up half of the building. It was contained with a metal wall running down the length of the facility. BuyMort’s local shipping operation took up the rest of the giant warehouse.

And when I say giant, I mean the kind of warehouse you describe in football fields. Three, for the record, it was a really big area.

Large, boxy robots with loader arms scuttled between giant portals, doing the business of BuyMort. Naked items appeared from the bright orange pools of shimmering light directly overhead, and boxed packages left through the vibrant blue pools of shimmering light projected along the floor.

The portal directly over my head crackled, and I darted away as an item materialized from it. A hovering drone with cargo loader arms caught the thing in mid-air, swooping overhead and holding the item suspended in the air between its arms. The item itself looked like a porcelain toilet.

I watched, mouth agape, as the robotic BuyMort minions went to work on it. Several smaller robots swarmed around the shipping drone, packing the item in strips of ultra-thin flesh-tape cellophane as the loader drone held the toilet between its grips. Fleshophane.

The drones grabbed the roll of fleshophane tape from a rack of them that hung from the ceiling. Thin, robotic arms held and manipulated dozens of rolls of flesh-tape, in various forms.

My attention turned back to the sentient meat creature, and I was horrified to discover it had moved. The eyes and teeth were much closer, as were the pudgy fists of shaped pork. It was gripping the side of the divider with child-like hands and staring down at me while I watched the BuyMort drones go about their work.

“I like your shiny head, what are you?” It asked. The giant’s voice rumbling down at me from high above, and I flinched involuntarily.

“Um, hi. I’m Tyson. Human, this is just a helmet.” I nearly pulled the helmet off but thought better of it. If this thing decided to eat me, I didn’t know how well the suit would hold up and extra armor made me feel a little better.

“Hi Tyson!” it chirped, smiling, and waving a meaty hand.

A robotic arm swung down over the face, and it flinched away. The eyes and teeth sunk from the surface and the fists slumped into shapeless mounds.

At the far end of the contained area, the face bubbled back up from the meat, rising above the wall and screaming in agony as the robotic arm ripped a great swath of cultured flesh-tape from the creature. Its body roiled, and different portions of it rose above the wall in a wave.

It had entire sections of its bulk dedicated to fleshophane. The great rollers in the ceiling descended and cut massive strips out of the flesh as the creature wailed in the distance. Other portions of its body were composed of different kinds of flesh, used for BuyMort packaging purposes. Most of it was covered in raised strips of flesh-tape, and as I watched, the bloody metal arms receded, carrying their fresh loads.

The face sunk away with a sigh of relieved pain and arose near me again seconds later. “Sorry Tyson! I had to get shaved. BuyMort shaved me.”

“Yeah, it sure did,” I said. I tried to rationalize the beast, and my mind just short circuited. “Do you just give your skin to BuyMort?”

The face in the meat frowned, a disturbing image in flexible pork. Then it smiled again and laughed. “No silly! I’m in business with BuyMort!” The pudgy arm rose up and the towering mountain of sapient meat conspiratorially whispered, “I got a great deal too! I’m a valuable partner.”

The bloody swath of stripped away flesh was already healing, and as I watched, the wound sealed entirely.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” I asked.

“Oh terribly! But you know, no pain, no gain. I’m a grinder, getting’ it done.” The pile of meat chuckled. “Not everybody gets to work with BuyMort direct, you know, I’m pretty special.”

“You seem very special to me, but that’s because I’ve never seen someone like you before,” I said, glancing behind me at the exit. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re special?”

The meat squinted at me, then rumbled in laughter. “Everybody that gets their package gets a piece of me with it. Everybody.”

I squinted. “But BuyMort is on many worlds, and you’re just right here.”

“No I’m not,” the face said. “I’m everywhere.”

“How can you be everywhere?” I asked, taking a slow step back toward the hole.

“How can you be in only one place?” It asked. Suddenly, the face shifted, and it rested its ‘chin’ on its hand, causing the blobs of meat to become one. “Will you be my friend, Tyson?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, sure. I would love to.”

The portal behind me crackled as another item came through. This time, when the BuyMort carrier drone swept in, it came too close to me, and an alarm went off. The drone zipped away, and in the distance, another drone, with much more aggressive lines, approached.

The mountain of meat gasped and clutched its hands up to its mouth. “Uh-oh! You made BuyMort mad!”

I sighed and summoned my gauntlets as the drone swept in low. The loader drones looked like little flying forklifts, but this thing looked to have been built around the barrel of a gun. It was small and boxy, with a thin proboscis barrel jutting from the front end. Once it was in range, it opened fire.

Pinpricks of laser fire punched through me like fire ants from Krypton. My torso and legs were immediately full of tiny holes. Painkiller flooded through me as the meat creature gasped and smiled, watching the drama.

My suit responded, deploying arms to counter the assault, filling in my perforated body and internally repairing organ or bone damage. I focused on trying to defend myself with my gauntlets. The fiery pinpricks of weaponized light continued as the little drone changed position.

It entered the orbit of my swarming tendrils, and something intensely bad happened. The starfish suit grabbed, and tore apart, the BuyMort laser drone.

Red light flashed from overhead, every drone and robotic extremity in sight sounding the alarm. A pod flashed through an orange portal at the far side of the room and warped in what I can only describe as a kaiju-worm.

It wasn’t a worm, not a true one, its armored shell was too aggressive on the front, rising in a great shelf of horn in-between the space the eyes should be. It also had a gaping mouth, full of serrated rows of triangular death. Shells of heavy armor overlapped down the kaiju-worm’s back as it fixated on me and charged with a trumpeting roar.

“Ooo, crunchy!” the meat mountain said. Its face slumped away again, reappearing in the kaiju-worm’s path. The tiny, pudgy arms grew in size as they stretched out over the barrier and grabbed the flailing, building-sized worm.

A section of armor-plated tail wound up and slapped against the meat creature, sending ripples throughout its exposed body, and wrenching it back momentarily.

“I said crunchy!” The meat exclaimed, before heaving the kaiju-worm’s head into its gaping maw. The slabs of teeth crushed down, and the worm squealed, cutting off only when its head tore free. With great chewing motions, the meat mountain did indeed prove that the worm was crunchy. I could feel the crunching through the bones in my feet, let alone hear it.

It slumped back and sighed contentedly as it noisily swallowed the kaiju-worm’s head. The rest of the body writhed and wriggled in the meat’s hands, but it wasn’t going anywhere.

“Thanks for the crunchy treat, friend!” it said, bits of gigantic worm tumbling from its lips. “Usually I only get slop from the BuyMort tube, this is great!” It raised a hand to flick at a thick black rubber tube protruding from high above it, brackish green goo dripping from its aperture. The meat took another massive bite of the worm, crunching happily on the armor.

I wondered briefly at the sheer staggering size of the kaiju-worm, and the fact that it had been meant to kill me. BuyMort’s combat assessment of me had risen in the days since its arrival. I think the worm had been meant to flatten me, and crushing my head would do the trick.

Before it had saved me from a building sized worm, I was suspicious of the meat creature. It was too big not to be dangerous, even to someone like me. After talking to it for a while, that suspicion had changed.

It was locked in this building, with no one and nothing to talk to but BuyMort’s robots, which appeared to skin it regularly for cheap packing tape. I’m not entirely sure it couldn’t have escaped physically, at that point. After watching it casually snack on something the size of the kaiju-worm, it didn’t strike me as contained. BuyMort didn’t hold it prisoner, at least not physically.

“Hey, friend?” I asked, raising the tone of my voice. “What’s your name?”

“Tower,” it said, around a mouthful of crunchy giant worm. Then the giant glassy eyes wobbled, filled with tears, and the creature looked away into the distance, out of the shaded windows near its position. The next words that it uttered came as a sigh. “Destroyer of worlds, devourer of all that live, the perfect physical being.”

A chill ran through me as I stared at the monster. What had this thing been before BuyMort?

“Well, Tower. That’s a nice name, Tower. Is that a . . . uh, boy name?” I asked, taking another careful step toward the exit tunnel. The BuyMort drones were ignoring me now that the security response had occurred. It seemed to reset the system’s awareness of my presence.

Tower nodded, dreamily raising the kaiju-worm corpse for another lazy bite. “Sure,” he sighed between crunches. “Why not?”

The overall nature of the meat began to change, thickening. Ridges of bone rose from around the child-like face, and its features hardened, taking on the vague nature of a massive skull arising from a mound of pulped meat. Steam rose from the surface in the vat, and Tower suddenly looked down at me.

“I am spread . . .” the features wavered, bones sliding back into the meat. “Spread so far.” Then the added features collapsed, and Tower reverted to the simple pile of meat he had been before. The pudgy arms dropped his kaiju-worm snack, and his eyes watered and wavered again, as he looked behind me.

“Ooo! Yarspies!” Tower squealed, vanishing into his vat with a plop. He appeared again directly overhead and pointed behind me to the tunnel with a fat, meat dripping finger. “Yay, yarspies!”

A single wet yarsp clattered up the trail, clearly hatched fresh. With how many eggs there had been in the queen's chamber, it made sense that some might hatch before the BuyMort pod warped them all out.

I stepped back, and it veered to avoid me, heading for the drippings of meat Tower had left. Blood and meat splattered as a solid ton of it landed on our side of the wall with a massive, wet smack.

“There you go yarspies!” Tower’s pudgy hands gripped the side of the vat as he peered over to watch the yarsp rush toward the fresh pile of ground chuck and sauce.

Another young yarsp, still wet from its egg and unsteady on its legs, clambered out of the hole and moved as quickly as it could for the food. They ignored me entirely.

“You feed them?” I asked Tower.

“They’re my friends! I love my yarspies,” Tower said.

“Doesn’t that hurt?”

“Pft, no. Once I’m not in the meat, it’s not me, obviously.” Tower crossed his eyes at me and giggled. Then, he stuck out a tongue the size of a warship and chuckled. “Except a tiny, tiny bit, of course.”

The adolescent yarsps gorged themselves on the meat, and more came from the tunnel to join them. When one had eaten its fill, it gathered as much meat as it could into its mandibles and turned to scamper back down the tunnel.

My questions had all been answered, and whatever the meat monster was, it scared me more the longer I spoke to it. At first it had just been physically intimidating. Now the nature of its existence, and its rather disturbing titles had my brains swirling.

“Well, Tower. It was really nice to meet you,” I said. “I should really be getting back now, I have work to do.”

“Wait!” Tower cried, leaning forward on the lip of his vat. “Will you come see me again? I liked talking to you.”

“Sure thing Tower, I will make a point to come talk to you again soon,” I said, bowing and retreating. “It was fun talking to you, you’re a very interesting person,” I added, as I ducked into the tunnel and beat a hasty retreat. At the sound of his name, Tower’s eyes cleared, and his expression changed to serious again.

Then I was in the tunnel, running back to Phyllis and Doof. I really needed to do some sessions with Molls, to avoid dreaming about Tower. He left an impression.

Chapter 43

By the time I reached the main chamber, the primary horde had already returned. Phyllis was holding them off with her plasma thrower, and Doofus stood well clear of the heat, blasting any juvenile yarsps that tried to approach from the egg chamber.

As I jogged toward them, I saw the earth around the tunnel slump. Far too much heat was pouring through the ground, and the top portion of the tunnel was outright melting.

“Phllis!” I shouted, trying to get her attention. She turned, the front of her mech glowing bright orange, and the tunnel’s roof collapsed, slagged yarsp excretions and tons of loose earth and stone tumbling in on top of her and the yarsp horde.

Doofus skittered back as clouds of high-speed dust activated his shields, running over to my side, where he stood and stared back to where Phyllis used to be. A small whine escaped his throat.

The entrance tunnel was completely covered by a smoking landslide. The harder, tile-like excretions had slagged, creating a molten center to the collapse that now covered Phyllis and her mech. Atop that was a smoldering pile of churned earth and loose stone. As I watched, I realized it was still moving.

In several places around the landslide, and from the walls surrounding it, there was movement from the soil. It shook, while small rain showers of dust foretold further trouble.

Yarsps burst through the loose earth, away from the hottest portions of the cooling landslide, and dropped down to charge at us. Some of them shook loose earth from their bodies, others had scorched or melted portions visible on their bodies.

“Stay behind me, Doof!” I yelled as I stepped in front of him. Part of me heard an Afflqwst notification, but it didn’t register with the yarsps coming at us.

The dog started barking rapid fire, using sonic blasts to send yarsps off the platform as they filled the slope and charged directly for us. I braced myself for the oncoming swarm and spared a thought for what would happen to Doofus once I was overwhelmed, as the giant carnivorous wasps rushed down the ramp to our position.

Then they parted, running directly past us. I held both swords out, ready for them to converge and rush over the top of us, but they just kept burrowing free to run right past us. Doofus noticed too, and the barking stopped. He tucked his tail and kept in close to me, but the swarm of yarsps ignored us entirely and charged directly for the tunnel at the far end, the one that led to Tower, the flesh beast.

The queen at the top of the hive had stopped roaring, and as I watched, the flood of carnivorous insects petered out and stopped. Those who had survived the attack on Silken Sands, and then my bodyguard, were focused entirely on acquiring fresh meat from their unlimited source. Looking at the queen again, I understood.

There was no way for her to feed herself, and she must have required a constant stream of vomited meat in order to even maintain her own body, let alone lay new eggs. The swarm was like her limbs, she needed some of them alive and active to even survive.

I shook my head and pulled up the Afflqwst notification I had ignored a moment before.

Quest Completed – Prepare your affiliate for an upcoming wild animal attack, scheduled to take place during your absence.

REQUIREMENTS:

1. Draft plan of battle. (complete)

2. Modify structural defenses. (complete)

3. Affiliate must survive attack. (complete)

4. (Optional) Say final goodbyes to important affiliate members. (failed)

REWARD – Credit level upgrade.

We had beaten the hive. I sighed in relief and swiped the app away. Phyllis was buried in melted giant wasp shit and molten earth. The landslide her weapon had caused still smoldered, and I recoiled from the heat.

After staring at the smoking heap of loose soil, I remembered my phone and grabbed at it, telling the psychic deity within to call my friend.

To my immense relief, Phyllis answered after the third ring. “Yes, dearie?” she asked sweetly.

“Holy shit Phill, you okay?” I asked. Her image in my helmet was small and difficult to see, and it was dark. Smoke wreathed around her form and throughout the interior of the mech, obscuring further detail.

“It’s hot in here, but I’m comfy otherwise,” she answered. “Are you planning on digging me out at all? Something’s wrong with my suit, it won’t move anymore.”

“Yeah, Phill, I’m gonna dig you out as soon as I can get close to the landslide you’re under. It’s still way too hot for me and Doof, I can’t even get near,” I told her.

“Oh well, take your time then, I suppose,” Phyllis huffed.

I shook my head and looked back up to the queen. “I’m gonna go get our bounty, Phill. How’s a third of five-hundred million morties sound?”

“What’s my cut for the sales?” she immediately asked.

The page scrolled, seemingly forever, when I tried to check for her. Thankfully, I didn’t need to go through each singular sale of bodies and eggs, I was able to skip to the end and get a total.

We’d crashed the local market again, selling too much. The price per unit plummeted by the end of our productive morning. Thankfully Rayna had done most of the better sales for the affiliate early on, before my little trio got started in the hive. By the time we were selling chitin ash and burnt blackened leavings, nobody in the immediate area was buying yarsp for breakfast anymore anyway. It was all going to industrial uses, or even further breakdown into plain carbon.

Even if nobody else was buying, BuyMort itself would always buy for use as basic carbon.

All said, we’d made nine million morties to split between the three of us. There were a few more sales to be made, but the primary bulk had come from the eggs anyway. “Three million,” I told Phyllis.

She nodded, and the screen cut off as she disconnected the call. I narrowed my eyes but shrugged and focused on the task at hand. The old lady probably just wanted to smoke her weed in peace.

I pulled up my map and focused on the queen's chamber. The bounty drone pinged at us from the ceiling directly over the queen’s head, in the rock ceiling above her. I looked into her black, soulless eyes and sighed as she stared directly back at me.

Getting the drone was not as horrible as I had thought it would be. The queen lifted her bulk and backed away as I approached, following the ramp her young used to feed her. She had to stop at the edge of it, or risk tearing her thorax and egg sack loose, but I felt that if I came too much closer, she might try it.

I held my plasma falchion at my side, ready to flare into scalding life as I slowly and carefully approached.

A few of the yarsps feeding her moved in to attack me as I stepped up the ramp, but I ignited the falchion and held it up at them.

Normally yarsps charged, unheeding of damage, but they hesitated. They merely walled me in, forming up in a group around me and trying to keep their bodies between me and the queen.

And then BuyMort kicked in. I had a notification of emergency mail from an unknown sender and I popped it open, expecting something from maybe Darclaw or someone else from my growing list of aliies.

Instead a flurry of ads swarmed my vision, throwing me off balance.

It was fucking spam. BuyMort had spam.

I saw ballerinas dancing, racecars blasting forward, two men circling each other around an arena . . . . it was just a straight-up furious onslaught of ads with no meaning or purpose.

In front of them all, a red shield icon appeared, white words in all caps decorating its surface.

TIRED OF ADVERTISEMENTS BLURRING YOUR VISION WHEN YOU NEED IT THE MOST?

Beneath the shield was the simple line Y/N. No matter where I looked, the shield followed. I could barely see the yarsps quivering in hungry anger beyond.

“Shit,” I yelled before selecting the Y with my thoughts. The text on the shield morphed and changed.

SAY NO TO ADS AND YES TO LIFE! INTRODUCING JP ADBLOCKER BY WONKA’S WETWARE INDUSTRIES. OUR UNIQUE TRANSPLANTABLE DEVICE TRANSCENDS SPACE AND TIME TO DELAY ADVERTISEMENT RELAY TO YOUR CENTRAL NERVOUS SYSTEM BY UP TO FOUR HOURS! *CONDITIONS APPLY *VISIT WONKA’S WETWARE INDUSTRIES TO ORDER THE ONE THAT FITS YOU TODAY! 3.7 stars. Price at site.

Something bit at my leg, a tentative chomp that seemed more probing than malicious, and I kicked it away immediately. The yarsps were starting to close in. I frantically waved away the ad, and after a brief bit of stubborn resistance it went away, the others following it into oblivion.

My vision free, I saw that I was hemmed in.

I blinked rapidly, switching my focus between the yarsps at my front, the line of them that had formed at my back, the queen herself, and the minimap in my helmet. Once I was directly underneath the drone, I simply leapt to the ceiling and grabbed it.

My account immediately flooded with morties, cycling all the way up to five-hundred million. I smiled at the number, but instantly dumped it into the communal fund, which BuyMort was going to cut into thirds and send to both Phyllis’ and Doofus’ accounts. For a small fee of course. Nothing in BuyMort is free.

Still, the bounty being paid felt sweet. Dearth paid us five-hundred million, and we didn’t even kill the queen for them. Ripping off this affiliate felt great. Walking back down the ramp and getting away from the queen and her yarsps felt even better. She stared at me no matter where I went though, so I did my best to ignore her and got to work digging out Phyllis.

Her mech was sealed in place, in a cocoon of melted yarsp excretion. Once I had dug deep enough, I could see the shape of her, melted to the floor. It was still hot too, once I uncovered it, the entire patch cooled visibly.

By the time I had used my sword to free her limbs enough to free the rest of herself, two hours had passed, and I was ravenous. Doofus was laying at the foot of the landslide, head resting on his crossed paws as he monitored the yarsps for us. They did nothing but feed their queen.

Entire lines of them dragged back fresh meat from Tower, the perfect physical being. Once the meat was in place, the young yarsps would feast on it, and grow.

Before my eyes they began to solidify, color filling in their limbs as exoskeleton grew and stretched with echoing pops.

Once they were fully grown within an hour, those yarsps joined the march to meat and back, vomiting recently devoured flesh pulp into their queen’s open mouth. Eventually, she began laying eggs again.

Once Phyllis’ weapon arm was free, she fired up her plasma blade and cut herself out of the rest of the landslide. The yarsp dung, when melted down and allowed to re-solidify, was as hard as tempered steel. Phyllis’ mech hadn’t been able to generate enough momentum to break any of its moveable parts free, which had trapped her in the suffocating heat.

As the suit’s head broke free, Phyllis flipped the helmet open. Steam billowed out into the chamber, and between the thick clouds of it, I caught a glimpse of my friend.

She was shriveled, boiled, burned by the steam all over her body. Her thin shift had caught fire and incinerated while trapped between her body and the machine. She had no hair left at all, and her face appeared to be partially melting from her skull, one eye covered entirely by a flap of sloughing skin.

She took a deep breath of the air in the hive and sighed, with a nod.

“Phyllis?” I asked, carefully approaching.

The more the steam cleared, the more I could see the horrific damage done to the old woman’s body. She had been broiled inside the suit, its internal systems unable to compensate for its weapons' extreme heat production.

Still, Phyllis turned to glare at me and held her bag of joints aloft. It was filled with blackened ash in the partially melted bag. “All my weed got burnt!” she whined.

I blinked and nodded. “Are you okay?” I asked again.

The old woman in the suit huffed and glared down at me. “No, Tyson. I am annoyed, my weed is all burnt up, and I can’t feel my face anymore. The stupid suit is doing something to me again too,” she muttered, ducking down inside. “Oh good, I’m a horrifying mess. Melted like a candle, isn’t that lovely?”

“Uh,” I added to the conversation.

“Yes, Tyson, I am fine. This beauty seems to be able to keep me tickin’,” she said, adding under her breath, “not that I’m sure any of this is real, of course.”

I ignored that last part, just happy she seemed nearly as difficult to kill as me. Significantly better armed, but that seemed to have its drawbacks too. I skimmed right past her questioning the nature of reality. Nothing I could do to help there.

With a wave of my hand, I divided the morties and sent Doofus and Phyllis their cuts. five-hundred million and nine million cut three ways ended in a repeating number, which I ate by giving each of them slightly more than myself. I did very little of the work anyway, the hardest part of my job was trying to get the bounty drone without hurting the queen.

Phyllis helped us dig our way out, before climbing back up through the tunnel network and hiking out of the gaping holes in the mountain. By the time we made it back to the truck, I was ravenously hungry. My bodyguard had gotten a fresh shipment of marijuana cigarettes from BuyMort and was happily smoking one, her partially melted features wobbling at me while she walked the parking lot.

“What do you think breakfast will be,” she asked me.

“I can’t imagine it won’t be yarsp,” I sighed, easing into the truck. It was a good thing Axle had set aside several pairs of these silk pants for me, I had gaping tears in the set I was wearing, again. The thought that we had set back the development of the hive significantly gave me some hope though.

It was unlikely they would recover enough to attack us again for a few days, and by then, I was hoping to have something in place to contain them. With that flesh creature as its source of unlimited meat, our hive would be an excellent source of food. I could make good on my promise to feed the militia, even.

Plus, that way it felt less like we were eating Tower.

Doofus plodded up to the truck and climbed aboard, happily curling up in the backseat and promptly going to sleep. It was more exercise than he was used to, but he seemed happy, going directly into deep sleep and twitchy-footed dreams.

Rayna had been doing her own work with the hobbs after the battle, but she kept our line open.

“Rayna,” I said, breathing hard.

“Yeah boss?” she immediately grunted.

“We’re on our way back. Watch for retaliation from Dearth,” I wheezed.

“Got it boss,” she said. I saw her hesitate, looking at me through the phone. “Hey boss. Glad we met you.”

I chuckled. In spite of it all, she was glad to have met me. “No Rayna, I’m glad we found you. Looking forward to that hobb barbeque this morning, that’s for sure.”

She nodded at me, with a faint smile. “See you soon.”

I disconnected and leaned out the empty door frame to shout at Phyllis, “Let’s go! You can smoke on the road.”

“I can smoke where I please, thank you,” the partially melted old lady muttered.

She piloted her mech to the truck, clanking up and over the tailgate. Doofus woke up and stared out his window at her while she arduously got settled in the back of the pickup, in a chorus of groans, creaks, and sudden shifts in the truck’s suspension.

Once she was settled with a trail of pot smoke rising into the Arizona morning, we got on the road.

Chapter 44

“Lots of early hours in this new job,” I muttered to nobody.

Doofus yawned and sighed, settling into place in the backseat. The ride back was pretty nice. The sun had risen fully while we were underground, so the light was doing that thing where it made the entire desert seem like it was wavering, even though it wasn’t that hot out.

We picked our way down the mountain trail, and drove the road home, crawling across the new blacktop bridge to enter the main gates. Yarsp parts were still in the moat on either side, blackened and charred, or impaled on rebar.

The gates opened to a camp in motion.

Hobbs were everywhere, mixing in with the now out-numbered humans while making a gigantic breakfast. Mustard greens replaced the bok choy, finally, and we had oddly colored hashbrowns that came off the griddle a robust orange when fully cooked.

Several food stations were handing out freshly seared yarsp steaks, vibrantly colorful potahtoe hashbrowns, and plenty of grilled mustard greens.

I drove into the hubbub and parked as out of the way as I could.

Phyllis groaned as she got up from the truck bed, and I saw her features were already healing. A warm blue light glowed from deep inside the mech, and her sagging, melted skin was pulled tighter across her face.

Whatever it was doing to heal her, it was working fast.

“Breakfast, team?” I asked.

Doofus happily shook himself as he exited the truck, before plodding over to the grilling tables. With the respect the hobbs showed that dog, I would be surprised if he wasn’t fat before the end of the month.

Phyllis took a long drag on her joint and flicked the nub away, shaking her head.

“Oh I’d give the poor things nightmares, looking the way I do. I’ll just have some delivered.”

Her mech whined and crunched the gravel as she walked away, toward her docking station. There was still plenty of hardened yarsp dung to be scraped from her hull.

I shrugged and took my helmet off, tucking it away in my bag before I walked over to get in line. There was a small commotion when I was recognized, with many of the hobbs in the immediate area saluting me and saying “boss” in hushed tones. I bore it with a respectful smile and returned each salute, hoping Mel wasn’t there to draw the scene.

Several hobbs in line with me were wearing new name brand sports apparel. I looked around to see several others wearing the same name brand, and realized our Leahcim shipment must have come in.

It was likely an opportune time to go digging in the storage barn and find myself a new mattress and blanket. Maybe grab some new pants as well.

Something else caught my eye.

Several of the hobbs were holding scraps of paper, which they shared eagerly with any who approached, as though they were small treasures of some sort. I asked to see one, and the hobb in question happily showed me.

It was a charcoal sketch portrait of the hobb holding it. I smiled politely and commented about the likeness, and the beaming hobb walked on, to show their treasure to others. A quick glance around the lot confirmed that most of them did not have one, but those who did enjoyed temporary fame, with groups of other hobbs gathering to praise the artwork.

I shrugged and focused on the line, as someone else stepped into it behind me.

Morbin sidled up and grinned, still wearing his oversized headphones. He was wearing a pair of dark goggles over his eyes as well and nodded up at me when I looked over to acknowledge him.

“Heard you looking for breakfast buddy,” he said, nudging me with an elbow.

I chuckled and nodded. “I am, matter of fact. Care to join me?”

“Morbin’s pleasure!” he said, grinning widely.

We stood in silence for a long moment, before he spoke up again. “What they serve here, anyway?”

“Mostly yarsp. Some veggies, whatever we have around,” I said with a shrug. “It’s not much, but they make sure everybody gets fed. I kind of love the hobb barbeques.”

Morbin nodded as I spoke, his lips pooched out as if in thought. “Sure, sure,” he said. “What the hell is barbeques, though?”

I didn’t mean to snort, but it happened anyway. “How do you know what hell is?”

“I don’t,” Morbin shrugged. “But I hear it used that way, so not hard to guess. Hell is like fuck, or damn, yes?”

I nodded, trying not to laugh further. “It really is, now that I think about it. Hell is a religious concept, fuck is heavily sexual, and damn is . . . shit, another religious concept. Barbeque is just grilled meat, technically. But it's more here, it's community. Its hope, every meal shows us how many of us there still are. How alive we all are.”

Morbin nodded. “Plenty of people here, yeah. Why being alive big deal though?” he asked, head cocked to the side.

I chuckled again and shook my head. “Most of us can’t afford to leave Storage if we end up there.”

Morbin nodded, as if that explained it all.

The line moved rapidly, and before long, Morbin and I had been served our food and were in search of a table. None were even remotely open, most people were either taking their food back home, or just eating it while standing out in the morning sunshine.

Morbin shrugged, holding his bowl in one claw.

“We can go to bar. Is done, is built,” he said.

Something in the tone of his voice made me think he wasn’t thrilled about it, so I nodded. I wanted to see this bar that had been built so rapidly.

Morbin and I walked, slowly, down the row of apartments. The hobbs were already working on them again, completing the repairs and finalizing the interrupted construction of the gobbs. Morbin’s bar was at the very end, in an open patch of desert beside the elevator.

It very closely resembled a tent, with the poles driven deep into the ground, and a standard blue tarp for a roof. A sign hung from the center of the tarp, plain paint on a slab of broken mud-crete. It read simply, “Morbin’s bar.”

Inside the tarp was a length of bar counter that looked like it had been ripped straight out of a dive bar and plopped in the middle of the Arizona desert. It had two rickety looking stools on one side, and when we sat down, we were gifted with a view of the waterworks dome against the mud-crete wall. An alert hobb patrolled in the distance.

“Well, it’s a bar,” I said as I sat down.

Morbin clambered up the stool like a ladder, after placing his bowl on the bar top with his long arms. “Sure, is bar,” he muttered.

I fished out the bottle of tequila, now down to roughly half capacity. “We’ll get it fixed up, don’t worry. This is just how things get started around here. Simple, cheap, and fast.”

“Yes, those words all describe Morbin’s bar,” he muttered. “Very accurate.”

I chuckled dryly and nodded. “Just wait. You’ll see. One day we’ll be in a high class joint thinking back to the simple days of tent poles and tarps.”

The little bat creature at my side stared up at me as I spoke, and a wide smile broke out on his face. “You think so?”

“Of course,” I said, nodding.

Morbin looked thoughtful at that, as he started eating his bowl of cubed yarsp. I could see him imagining the bar as it would be, no longer seeing the hovel it was.

I’d talk to Axle later about getting something nicer put in place. It looked like he had plans already, as someone had drawn a much larger square in the dirt surrounding the small set up.

The bar felt like it had been built with whatever the hobbs had laying around. The broken mud-crete shingle in particular cracked me up, it was from the suicide bombing we had suffered.

A simple structure indeed.

Morbin and I ate breakfast, washing it down with a few swallows of tequila. It was only nine in the morning by that point, but I no longer cared. I had some unpleasant work ahead of me, and the drink with Morbin helped me forget about it momentarily.

So when Dr. Miles approached from behind at the same time Rayna called me, I sighed in frustration. Instead of spending a little time with my reptilian lover, I was doomed to deal with affiliate related minutia.

“Excuse me!” Dr. Miles said, stepping into the tent. I slid the bottle away from Morbin, to prevent him drinking all of it before I could return. Then I raised a hand to Dr. Miles.

“One minute. My head of security is calling me,” I told him.

The doctor looked frustrated but nodded. His clothing was disheveled, and it looked as though he had not combed his hair.

I answered Rayna’s call.

“Boss, got issue with worker, they said they talked to you,” Rayna grunted. She tilted her phone to show me Mel. The two of them were underground, in the deepest portions of the residential area.

“Rayna, are you serious right now? With everything we have going on, this seems so petty,” I said. I sighed and shook my head.

“This kind of thing spread. People see they do nothing and soon enough hobbs only ones working,” Rayna said.

I stood silent for a long moment, staring at Dr. Miles. He had taken a few steps away, to be out of range. Morbin burped from the bar.

“She right, you know. Lazy people are huge problem.”

An ad for something that looked a lot like a cattle prod appeared in my vision and I angrily swept it away.

“Mel isn’t lazy,” I snapped. Morbin pulled a face and raised his hands in front of himself.

To Rayna, I continued in a more controlled tone of voice. “Mel isn’t lazy, Rayna. I’ll explain when I get down there, just wait a few minutes please. I need to talk to the doctor.”

She nodded, and I hung up the phone. Dr. Miles noticed and returned.

“Yes, hello,” he said.

“What can I do for you, doc?” I asked.

“Well, I know you’re rather busy, but I need to talk to you about the reason I’m here,” he replied.

My forehead furrowed, and I nodded. “Go on.”

“I need to do some research on your people,” he said, hands clasped at his waist. “Our people.”

I scowled. “That sounds pretty bad.”

Dr. Miles smiled and shook his head, raising both hands to wave dismissively. “Oh no, no, nothing like that. I assure you, this would be entirely non-invasive research. Essentially biological marker comparison, when you really boil it down.”

“What the hell are you talking about doctor?” I asked, somewhat more forcefully. This was turning out to be a bad morning, and the tequila buzz I’d been enjoying was already gone.

Dr. Miles’ eyes went wide, and he backed up a step. “I’m sorry, I seem to have upset you somehow,” he said.

“The word research implies something here, when applied to my people. Something I don’t typically tolerate,” I growled, staring at the doctor. “Maybe inviting you to stay was a mistake.”

His face went white, and he nodded. “This has become a terrible misunderstanding, please, allow me to explain.”

I merely nodded, staring at him.

“Something is very different about the humans on this earth, compared to the rest of us from other earths,” Dr. Miles started. “It’s a behavioral issue. Not to put too fine a point on it, but you’re all significantly more aggressive than the BuyMort system is accustomed to, it’s raising a lot of eyebrows in the medical community.”

My eyes narrowed again, but I nodded.

He continued, “To the point that it's been suggested an answer to the question ‘why’ might be of benefit to BuyMort as a whole, and to humans within it especially. Your people, our people here, are unique, and I must understand why.”

“I understand the why, doc. Now comes the part where you tell me how,” I said. My voice was calmer, but my arms were still crossed.

“Oh, easily, very easily. I simply need to compile scans of patients,” he said, holding up a small device. A thin, metal wand with rubber ridges around the tip ejected from the side, and he waved it over his own body, before turning the device to me.

The screen showed a human frame, surrounded by blue light and numbers. “This allows non-invasive scans of patients, very useful. It provides bio-electrical data, cellular mitosis and necrosis in real time, any number of blood or bone marrow analysis, as well as many, many more options. All I am asking for is information, gained with informed consent, and at the benefit of the patients.”

“I don’t have to pay you anymore?” I asked.

He scowled at the ground. “Sorry, poor phrasing. In addition to my security and wage, all I am asking for is information. I simply need to scan as many Nu-Earth humans as I can, to compile data for comparison. It is not impossible that I can find a pattern, a medical cause for the variation.”

The anger left me, and I nodded. “I have full access to the project, and it stops the instant I say it does. Nothing beyond a scan happens to any people who come to you for help, and it must be voluntary.”

Dr. Miles nodded the entire time I spoke. “Absolutely. This is non-invasive information gathering only. None of your people will be harmed, you have my word.” He finished by extending his hand.

I shook it with a nod, being careful not to squeeze down too hard. “I apologize for the misunderstanding. Guess I was being too aggressive again.”

He smiled suddenly, but faltered, looking to my face to find humor. I raised a corner of one lip and chuckled, and the doctor burst out laughing. “I was going to suggest you get some sleep, it looks like something you’re doing without.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I agree. Soon as I can, I intend to get some sleep. Are you getting on alright otherwise, doc?” I asked.

He nodded. “Your Knowle is constructing a facility for me in the underground, there’s extra room in medical. Seemed appropriate. No major wounds from this morning’s yarsp activity, the typical lacerations was all. All patients should heal without infection, I brought a healthy supply of my own chems. May need more within a week or two, at the current rate of use though.”

I nodded. “Well, keep me posted. And no selling my people’s data.”

He blinked rapidly at that. “I don’t understand.”

“You can gather their data for use in your science project, but you’re not allowed to sell that data, once gathered,” I clarified.

The doctor shook his head. “Well that changes things, significantly. I have no other means of income, my intention was to provide the information to the highest bidder. I always do that, with my patient’s scans, it’s a major part of my ability to function out here on the edge.”

The frustration began to creep back in, and I reached for the tequila bottle again, lifting it from in front of Morbin.

I had forgotten about his long arms.

I took a swig and reveled in the mid-shelf flavor. I was so used to bargain brand varnish that the homogeneous corporate stuff tasted like ambrosia.

“We’ll provide for your basic needs, and I’ll pay you a salary, plus keep your meds stocked from the operational fund,” I said.

“The salary will have to reflect the lost income from the scan data, as it will essentially become your affiliate’s property,” he replied.

“Sure. Fine by me. Bring something to my operations manager when you’re ready with a number.”

I stared at him. This man from another earth, whatever that meant, and the casual way in which he trafficked human data, were starting to frustrate me.

He nodded, looking at the ground and blinking. “Yes,” he said, raising a finger and pursing his lips. “Yes, I’ll have to run some numbers. Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” I said, smiling tightly at him.

Dr. Miles turned and left, fortunately for him. My mood was darkening the longer the day went on, and I hadn’t even finished breakfast. The tequila buzz returned with a little more vigor after another swig, and I sighed as I sat back down beside the little bat creature at the bar.

“You know what, Morbin, I like you,” I said, between mouthfuls of flakey, delicious yarsp. “You don’t fuck me up, I get you.”

“Morbin simple man,” he waved a claw. “Good drink, good friends, good life!”

“Exactly, Morbin. Exactly. I used to have a cool friend to smoke weed with, you ever try weed?” I asked, eyes narrowed.

“No. Please explain?” His batty face was peering up at me from the stool at my side.

“You smoke at all?” I asked.

“Smoke? No, not for Morbin. Always too expensive,” he said, with another wave. “Though now, maybe. Morbin wealthy, thanks to new job.”

“Yeah, why not? If your people can smoke, we have a special herb that grows on this planet. A weed, really, we even call it that. I’ll get you some to try, we can hang out and smoke some together,” I said. “When I get the chance, of course.”

My plate emptied, I got up and tucked the bottle away behind the bar. Morbin watched it go with sadness but then shrugged and went back to his bowl of yarsp and mustard greens. “When you get the chance,” he said. “Morbin understand! Busy man!”

Morbin paused and laughed, a raspy sound not unlike chalk on a blackboard. “Don’t forget! I hold you to that ‘weed,’ that sound like fun time.”

Chapter 45

I stomped over to the elevator and dropped down the shaft.

It was only to the first underground level again, but the fall was still long enough for me to notice that I wasn’t hurt and likely should have been. The enhanced strength in my legs was turning out to be helpful in many ways.

After that, I took the stairs. It didn’t seem prudent to push my luck, or possibly damage the elevator.

When I arrived at the bottom floor, I followed a hobb guard to Rayna. She was with Mel, in the room where I had killed Taytrinn. The sword gash in the floor was covered by a ratty throw rug, and some simple wicker furniture.

The whole place looked like someone had moved in recently, and was living there.

Mel was seated, arms crossed, lips pinched in defensive anger. Rayna was standing, arms also crossed. I faced Rayna and nodded.

“She not helping,” Rayna immediately grunted.

“Says you,” Mel replied.

I raised my hands. “Rayna, do you hound the rest of our human residents like this for work?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Most volunteer to help. Want to fight for all our lives. Or at least help clean up after.”

I shook my head and sighed. “Rayna, you may not know this about me, but I would rather be doing literally anything else. None of this is something I desire, all of it is a fuckin’ burden. It’s a miracle I keep finding reasons to live at all.”

Mel chuckled. I raised my middle finger at her and continued, “but I do it anyway, because I feel responsible. I do what I can, which is apparently a lot. So does Mel, she does what she can. So leave her alone.”

Rayna scowled, and her arms fell to her sides. “But she not help!”

I turned and faced Rayna, anger etched into my forehead. “Yes she does! You just don’t understand how!”

Both Rayna and Mel stared at me.

“While you and I were fighting yarsps this morning, do you know what she was doing?” I asked Rayna, pointing at the young woman in the chair.

“She was helping keep everyone down here calm, by hand-drawing portraits and giving them away as gifts. I saw our people up top, showing them off. You and I just warded off the next lethal threat, that’s what we do. She helped heal people’s fear, through kindness, and charcoal pencils. Its fuckin’ amazing, I can’t do that. You can’t do that, so leave her alone and let her work.”

I stopped, taking a deep breath, and moving out of the doorway. “Melanie is the kind of person you just let be around your affiliate, and benefit by sheer proximity. Don’t force her to be your idea of helpful, that’ll just ruin the entire thing.”

Mel uncrossed her arms and sighed. “Those charcoal pencils are expensive now too.”

“Shut up Mel,” I said, still staring at Rayna.

The hobb was uncomfortable. She crossed her hands behind her back and struggled to make eye contact.

“BlueCleave is grateful to you, Melanie. I am sorry, I failed to recognize your value to our affiliate,” she said, careful and slow. “You may choose your own work detail, as the boss says.”

Rayna turned to look at me, and steadied herself, meeting my eyes. “You are right, of course. She will not be bothered again.”

“Ugh,” Mel grunted, getting out of her chair. “You guys are gonna guilt me into helping with the wasps, stop it.”

She walked to the door, hesitating in the frame, and clutching her sketchpad. “It’s cool though, I’m not mad. Thanks Tyson,” she said, before leaving.

The guilt rushed in, on the heels of the realization of my blood alcohol content. I wasn’t quite drunk, but I was definitely not sober enough to be yelling at my security chief over a disagreement.

“It’s no big deal, Rayna, I shouldn’t have yelled. You did right, just run it past me if anybody else is being a problem. We’ll deal with the humans on a case by case scenario, you can still deal with the hobbs however. I just know my people, the way you know yours. Let me make these kinds of decisions from now on, when it comes to them,” I said, gently.

“Of course boss,” she grunted, standing up straight.

I sighed and nodded at her. “Hey. I’m gonna need your help with something later today.”

Rayna nodded. “I’m not leaving. Tollya and I down here now. Keep eye on lowest level.”

I turned to leave the room. “Thank you.”

Before the unnecessarily stressful morning, I had been hoping to go spend some time with Molls. Maybe take the rest of the day to sleep, assuming Dearth would let me.

But first, I had to go talk to Lee, and enact my only gambit against Dearth. I’d only come up with one terrible plan, and it was time to put it in motion.

A few minutes, and a brisk climb up some stairs later, I was in Lee’s office. Axle had spent some time soundproofing it, and I was able to speak freely, without Morbin overhearing. The old man sat at his desk and stared at me as I explained my rough plan to deal with our biggest threat.

“You want me to sell you to the Dearth Conglomerate?” Lee asked.

I sighed and nodded. “That’s more or less the whole plan, yeah. I give the MortBlock to Rayna for safekeeping, you sell me to Dearth, I get in and turn the place into a Jaxon Pollock. It ain't pretty, but it’s our only chance to get me in front of their board.”

Lee stared at me. “So let’s pretend this goes your way, what happens when you get back and Rayna doesn’t give you back the MortBlock?”

I raised my eyebrows. “Well, that’s a question. I trust her not to screw us.”

“After six days?” Lee said, mustache twitching.

“It’s more like five, but yeah. Yeah, I trust her,” I said. “With my life.”

He shook his head, his face a grimace. “Well, she’s a hell of a fighter, I know that much about her. Nothing else. Our hobbs turned their backs on us when it got tough. How do you know she won’t do the same? I mean, hell Tyson. Seems like that’s what this whole BuyMort system wants everyone to do! Why wouldn’t she take it all and stomp you into the dirt?”

I put up my hands in a warding gesture. “I respect your concerns, Lee, but BlueCleave won’t. This is their home now. Your hobbs had someplace to go. The place these ones come from is some kind of debtors' slum, and I imagine it's worse than our version. Everything about BuyMort is.”

Lee nodded slowly, then pressed his fingers together in a temple and fixed me with his gaze. “So, if I understand this plan correctly, we sell you out to Dearth, and you wreck up the place from the inside. How does this help us, exactly?”

“If I fail, there’s a chance you all might live. This will buy the affiliate time to get out of here, maybe get back to Storage, or go someplace else on earth, maybe even dig in better here, I don’t know. But, if I can get in front of their leadership, I’m willing to bet I can get my hands on some MortBlocks. We have to expand in order to survive, and Dearth owns all the land around us in every direction for miles.” I shrugged as I finished. “It’s the only way forward.”

Lee nodded. “And forward is the only way through.” He shifted in his chair and straightened to face me. “Very well, I’ll sell you out to the Dearth Conglomerate. I put out feelers already, and made a contact in Garthrust’s orbit. I assume he would be a good way in?”

I chuckled. “Yeah, I imagine he would want a piece of me. Go for it, I’ll go get prepped.”

Lee nodded once again and moved to stand. I held up a hand.

“Hey, you mind if I borrow your office?” I asked. “Need the sound-proofing.”

“Ah yes, the new arrival. Morbin, I believe his name is? I should make friends with this individual who can hear every conversation in the facility,” Lee said. He put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Must be a lonely life. Bet he likes to gossip.”

I chuckled again. “Well, be careful if you do. I warned him against gossip pretty hard, you might clam him up if you go that route.” I sighed and turned back to face Lee. “But yeah, you should keep your ears open with him.”

Lee’s mustache twitched. “Like second nature at this point. I’ll keep you informed.”

After he had left, I shook my head and slumped in my chair, texting Axle to meet me as soon as was convenient, in Lee’s office. Within a few moments the door swung open and the Knowle stood in its frame.

“Everything good, boss?” he asked, cautiously stepping inside. I watched closely until the door was closed before nodding up at the oversized hyena-man.

“Yeah, Axle, everything is great. I just need your help with a few things, and some of it's pretty confidential,” I said, with a small shrug.

He nodded and pulled up a chair to sit in, facing me. “Okay, what do you got?”

“A few things of varying complexity,” I answered, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I’ll need to go over some facility maintenance with you, let you in on the overall plan before it kicks off, pick your brain about the nature of BuyMort, and get your opinion on what the hell my suit is.”

Axle’s tail started wagging gently as I spoke, and his eyes fixated on the starfish suit as I finished. “I thought you would never ask.”

The Knowle stood and produced a little black tube with a flared end, and affixed it to his eye, before leaning in close to inspect the small turbine on my chest. “May I ask what affiliate provided this item?”

“Not just yet,” I answered immediately. I stood up so he could inspect the device better, specifically the small metal lines that deployed tendrils.

Axle glanced up at me, then went back to his inspection, following a single line that tracked up my throat to wrap around my head.

“May I ask why?” he asked.

“Sure, the affiliate is my little secret, and until I know you’re with me on some important stuff, I don’t want to give away my little secret,” I said. The huge Knowle being face-to-face with me was intimidating. I could really see how big his teeth were as he stared at the line of metal beneath my hairline.

Axle finished his inspection. “Well, without knowing where it came from, there is very little I can tell you about it.” He reached out a claw tip and tapped at the turbine’s housing, before shaking his head and removing the monocle.

“The material is unlike anything I’ve seen before. My spectrometer claims it’s a void. No emission from within at all, and material analysis came back inconclusive,” he said. “It appears to be metal but feels much denser.”

“My supposedly ‘magic’ sword can’t cut it,” I offered. “Just bounces right off.”

Axles eyebrows raised. “That is unexpected. Atomic projectors should be able to penetrate any matter arrangement.” He sat back down in the chair opposite me, a distant look in his eyes. “Unless,” he breathed. “It could be a relic. An item from another universe, far enough apart from this one that the physical laws are different. Relics are not offered by BuyMort directly but can be found using incredibly specific search terms.”

I nodded as he spoke, then shrugged. “I don’t understand.”

Axle sighed. “Without knowing the affiliate, I really can’t say for certain, but this item seems likely to have come from someplace far enough from here, that the natural laws instrumental in forming it do not operate the way we understand natural laws.” He narrowed his eyes as he spoke, then crossed his arms.

“What do you know of your multiverse theory?”

Chapter 46

I still didn’t really understand him, but I could at least answer his question. “Uhh, okay, sure. Multiverse theory. Not much, I would say. Not much at all.”

Axle nodded. He licked his nose and looked up. “Right, easy to fix. Where are we right now?”

I blinked. “Uhh.”

“I’m gathering a frame of reference, it's okay. There’s not a wrong answer here, I just need to understand location from your perspective before we can continue,” the Knowle explained.

“Okay. We are on Earth,” I said.

“Good. Now scale that down, tell me where we are in a smaller, more localized area,” he said.

“The US? Well, that doesn’t count anymore. Arizona, I guess?” I said.

“Arizona, the area that Dearth now controls, perfect. Now scale our location up, tell me where we are in a more general sense. Before I could find Arizona, I would need to find Nu-Earth, but before I could find Nu-Earth, I would have to find . . .?”

I frowned. “The Milky Way?”

Axle shook his head. “The Sol system, actually, but the Milky Way is next after that, yes. We’re talking about a sense of scale. So we start with just the ground you stand on, then scale up. Arizona, Nu-Earth, Sol System, Milk Way. Beyond that is the universe. Beyond that is the multiverse. Many universes that are attached directly and indirectly.”

I nodded slowly. “Okay, I get that. How are the universes connected?”

“Directly through BuyMort portals, and indirectly through black hole propagation. Black holes lead out of universal space, to the multiverse connection,” Axle said.

“Wait, out of space? Space is out, I thought. Everything is in space, right?” I asked.

“No. Space is contained inside each universe, leaking out through black holes and coating the multiverse connection,” he said.

“Coating? What the hell is the multiverse connection?” I asked, exasperated.

“Excellent question, which I have no real answer for. My people, before BuyMort arrived, used to believe it was a mountain, and the universes attached to each multiverse connection strand were like drops of dew, flowing down its slopes.” Axle leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “Not a particularly scientific view, in hindsight.”

“Well, you guys were aware of the multiverse, so you’ve got the advantage on me. I’d only seen weird movies that did a lot of swirling imagery and broken mirrors to explain it,” I said, with a shrug.

Axle chuckled. “It is a confusing concept, to be fair. In essence, universes drain and swirl into and out of one another, through black holes, white holes, and the multiverse connection. It helps to think of the process like droplets traveling down a mountainside, as each drop of dew can drip into one another, creating new droplets as the old droplets drain, ever flowing. This creates new universes out of nothing. Those physically closest to our current universe will be governed by similar physical laws, because of universal determinism. We are all a rainstorm, a river, an ocean, flowing through and across the multiverse. If you were to travel far enough away, in the chain of universes, you might find that gravity, for example, doesn’t work exactly the same way as it does in your home universe. Or even atomic structuring.”

“Alright, I think I follow. Now help me tie that back into my suit here,” I said with a chuckle.

“I believe your suit comes from a very distant universe. More than that, it appears to have been constructed with universal determinism in mind, to be able to function effectively in a universe governed by different laws than originated the item,” he said. Axle took a deep, shaky breath, and licked his nose again. “The multiversal knowledge, let alone engineering capability required are, without hyperbole, well beyond any known affiliate.”

“So, a relic,” I whispered.

The Knowle nodded. “A relic of a time possibly even pre-dating BuyMort.”

I immediately thought of Specter, and the Teslak Cooperative. The powerful items that had helped me survive so far, and the focus on BuyMort’s destruction that had brought me to Teslak in the first place. Axle was my best chance at understanding my situation, and without help, I wasn’t shopping as smart as I needed to.

“Okay, you can ask where I got it now,” I said.

Axle blinked and scowled. “Very well.” He held out a paw for me to continue.

“It’s from an affiliate called the Teslak Cooperative. I was given access to their storefront because I asked BuyMort for something to help me destroy BuyMort,” I said with a sigh and shrug.

The Knowle across from me licked his nose and narrowed his eyes. “Have you purchased anything else from them?”

“Maybe, but before we get into that, I need to know if you’re okay with my overarching goal,” I said, leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees. “Killing BuyMort.”

Axle chuckled. He shook his head and laughed, but stopped when I didn’t join in. “Destroy BuyMort? How? Most of us struggle to properly define BuyMort. Look around you! Everything is BuyMort. I cannot imagine a quest to destroy it, when no-one has even been able to fully understand it.”

He crossed his arms over his huge, hairy chest and shook his head again. “It sounds absurd, like trying to give the sun a black eye.”

I laughed too and shook my head. “I know, but it’s just something I can’t shake. I hate this thing, and I want to break it.”

“Now that I can easily relate to,” Axle said. “You asked me for my definition of BuyMort, yes?”

I nodded.

“Very well. BuyMort is a store, but a store so powerful that it destroys entire universes, by accident,” he said. “As far as I can tell, there is no divinity in BuyMort, no intelligence, or purpose. BuyMort appears to be a machine, unthinking and cold, operating by a set of rules. You should ask your priest woman, she will tell you a very different story. But by my best definition, you have what BuyMort is.”

The Knowle scratched behind his ear with one hand, cocking his head. “I can’t imagine the complexity of ‘breaking’ this machine, as you say. Nor the greater consequences for the multiverse at large. Or even for you. The BuyMort portals drive the operation of your suit, by blending our universes’ laws and allowing both to exist simultaneously.”

Axle pointed a claw at my turbine. “That thing might revert to its original universe’s laws the moment BuyMort portals no longer connect its original universe with ours. Perhaps it would take you with. Perhaps it would tear free from you, perhaps it would turn to scalding liquid, or unstable strange matter. It is impossible to know, at least without knowing more about this affiliate. The Teslak Cooperative?”

“Yes, that’s their name. In fact, I’m due for a visit to their store-front soon. I’ll try to bring you with; it's in ad-space,” I said with a shrug.

Axle stared at me for a long moment, before saying, “you’re not kidding, are you? How can you possibly know you’re going to be visiting them soon? Relic storefronts do not appear in regular BuyMort rotation.”

I nodded. “One of the items I got from them was an app for my BuyMort interface,” I said, choosing my next words carefully. “It helps me run the affiliate by rewarding me for growing it, with item coupons that bring me back to the storefront.” I swiped up the relevant Afflqwst notification.

Quest – Complete affiliate upgrades and produce appropriate income. Act like a real affiliate.

REQUIREMENTS:

1. Collect twenty-five million morties worth of income from affiliate products or services. (19,426,532/25,000,000 incomplete)

2. Complete all construction projects in que. (complete)

3. Effect repairs on damaged affiliate structures. (complete)

4. (Optional) Install a memorial for fallen affiliate members.

PROBABLE OUTCOME – Affiliate upgrades completed. (100%).

POSSIBLE OUTCOME – Affiliate income requirement met. (86%).

REWARD – Item coupon.

“Yeah,” I said to Axle. “Once we make another six million morties from the affiliate, I’ll be heading to the storefront for a new item.” I had forgotten about the memorial. “Hey, could we install a quick memorial to our fallen?” I asked.

In front of me a number of somber looking aliens, and a few humans as well, appeared, residing in their own floating boxes that looked like animated screen shots from a computer screen.

LOST A LOVED ONE? COMPASSION IN YOUR TIME OF NEED. BUYMORT MEMORIAL SERVICES CONTAINS BILLIONS OF AFFILIATES DEDICATED TO CELEBRATING LIVES LOST TOO SOON . . . AND TO HEALING THE HEARTS OF THOSE LEFT BEHIND.

I stared at the ad, brought direct from BuyMort. It sickened me. So uncaring, yet so on point. A list of affiliate names and median prices scrolled down the right side of my vision while peaceful music began to play in the background.

IN WHAT MANNER DO YOU WISH TO MEMORIALIZE AND HONOR YOUR LOST ONE(S)?

A far-reaching list of services scrolled by alphabetically. Some of them stood out. Animation in particular. Could I bring the dead back to life? I clicked on it and read a few of the services but quickly found that they were all about inserting mechanics into the corpse, or else replicating the deceased with non-intelligent golems.

I shut it all down in disgust.

Axle was there, blinking and scowling. “You got ads, didn’t you?”

I nodded and swallowed hard. He sighed. “Yeah, the ads are rat bastards. I’ve about had it with them.”

I thought back to the AdBlock ad and its offer to delay them. It wouldn’t help here, but in combat . . . well it might be a necessity. I wondered how often BuyMort pulled shit like that in the middle of a big fight. Then I stopped. Once was too often. I’d have to get the damn thing soon.

Axle watched my face twist and eyes turn as I deliberated, and he sighed again. “Look, I can take care of all of this. It should be relatively easy, depending on how elaborate you wanted it. Six million morties should be coming in soon, and we are due to turn over the newest Sleem freezers any day now. I’ve expanded them again, the new income should more than cover that amount.”

“Perfect, you can join me in the ad-space and see the affiliate for yourself.” I sat back in my chair.

Axle was still scowling. “Why are you asking about this stuff now, boss?”

I sighed. “Because I’m having Lee sell me out to Dearth. I’m hoping you’ll work under Rayna the way you’ve worked under me to try and help my people, if I don’t make it back.”

The Knowles' eyes went wide, and he nodded. “Ah. Yes, I would do that. This is a good place, and you’ve been a good boss. I will try to help your people if you do not return.”

“I appreciate that, and of course, don’t say anything about this to anyone, please,” I said.

He nodded. “Jada can be trusted, I suggest looping her in. She is helping Rayna and Tollya run security.”

“Yeah, you can tell her, just not until I’m already gone. I don’t want her trying to come with me or something,” I said.

He chuckled. “She might. That woman hates Dearth with a passion.”

I grinned and let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Yep.”

Axle took a deep breath and licked his nose again. “You mentioned facility maintenance?”

“Yes, I wanted to talk about Morbin’s bar?” I said, eyes narrowing.

“Ah, of course. Temporary situation, I assure you. It was just what we had on hand,” Axle said, raising his hands to defend himself.

“No, I get all that. I was just hoping we could keep the shingle. I like it,” I said. “I figured you’d be doing upgrades to the place, and I would like to keep Morbin happy.”

“Wise. He could do a lot of damage to our affiliate if he were to become disloyal,” Axle said.

“I’m aware. It was something we needed at the time, but now I do question his presence here. Especially coupled with the beholder,” I said.

“I have already briefed everyone who knows about Quadrum not to openly discuss their presence without being someplace sound-proofed,” Axle assured me.

“Good, thank you. I rely on you more and more, Axle,” I said, meeting his eyes.

He blinked but held my gaze and nodded. “I know. It is the nature of my position to be relied on for day to day operations. That often translates to greater responsibility than is expected by leadership, so I appreciate the recognition.”

“Well, our goals align, so I feel like I can trust you,” I replied. “But now that I’ve told you about my plans for BuyMort, do our goals still align?”

The Knowle puffed out his cheeks, looked at the floor for a few seconds, and then licked his nose. “In honesty, I must admit I find your goal of BuyMort’s destruction to be laughably improbable, but I do not see a conflict because of it, not yet anyway. If you were to send our hobbs to destroy a fruition center because of it, I would have to object, but as it stands I have no issue.”

“That’ll work for the moment, just be discreet please. Nobody else needs to know about this yet, and I suspect I might be able to change your mind when we go visit Teslak’s storefront together,” I offered.

“Very well. I would like very much to do that, what do we need?” Axle asked.

“Just get a memorial installed and have the affiliate make us another five and a half million morties,” I said. “It should pop once the morties are in the account.”

“Very well, let’s get to it.” Axle stood up and clapped his hands together.

I nodded and stood, moving to the door. I held it open for Axle, and we left the soundproofed room.

Chapter 47

“Hobb memorials are usually quite simple. I’ll get the requisite information from Rayna, and we’ll set one up together, now,” Axle said. “We’ll improve it later, of course.”

We had left the underground and walked together to Morbin’s bar. The little bat creature wasn’t present, so we got to work. Axle took a bundle of leather and chitin that was delivered to us by the hobbs and unrolled it across the bar.

It was a sheet of leather with hundreds of tiny chitin shells sewn into it. The shells caught the light somewhat, twinkling as he began work on it.

Rayna had provided him with a list, and he scratched names from it into the shells, using a tiny scraper tool.

Three hobbs and six humans.

I hadn’t known their names before they died, and even with them there, in front of me, I knew that I wouldn’t remember them later. The memorial was more about checking a box on a list than actually honoring our dead.

It all felt so clinical, so BuyMort of us. I realized how the damn system had already changed me, and I felt pangs in my stomach.

I sighed and helped Axle hang the sheet, trying not to think about it too much. Once it was attached to one of the tent poles, the sheet of leather twisted and waved in the breeze.

“We really gotta upgrade this bar,” I said.

Axle smiled, showing his sharp teeth. “I agree, this could be a nice addition. Besides, we are going to need to start investing in amenities soon. Subsistence living only gets you so far,” he said. The Knowle stopped and looked out over the desert between us and the security wall. “To be fair, we’ve got a better start-up than most, in regard to morale. A few more upgrades will help, but I’m guessing you’ll want to do that at a later date.”

“Yeah, thank you Axle, I have a lot going on today,” I replied.

“Of course. Shall we turn over the freezers?” he asked, holding out a claw to point at the elevator. “If we go now, we can make the elevator.”

A group of hobbs was loading a small batch of furniture onto it, and I nodded. We walked over, helped them load the last of it, and rode the simple construction down to the first underground level.

We walked the concrete hallways in silence, while I contemplated what I was going to have to do, in order to infiltrate Dearth and take them down from inside. The first, and most terrifying step, was re-activating my suit's cranial repair function. It was going to go inside my brain and cut out the damaged portions. What would be left of me when the suit replaced those damaged areas with artificial brain matter?

Before I could think about it too much and get myself really worked up, we arrived in the hangar. Axle stopped me at the top of the stairs and pointed with a single claw.

The hangar was well lit, the entire cavernous space illuminated by four hovering ball lights. The back half of the area was packed with rows of Sleem freezers. Axle and the hobbs had been busy, buying and installing more and more freezers, attaching them all to the central Sleem pipe.

I gaped at the underground cavern. “Did you have a work crew down here during the battle?” I finally asked.

“Sort of,” he started. “I was doing this all myself, but volunteers filtered in one by one as they heard about the distraction. Some hobbs, but mostly humans. We got dozens of freezers installed before breakfast, and the crew has been working on it since.” He pointed with a claw, and I saw the movement of small figures toward the back.

I nodded. “And the faster it grows, the faster it can grow.”

He nodded. “I put a cap on its growth for now, to allow this half of the room to be used for something else if you wanted, but honestly, I feel like that Sleem farm can keep going. We could likely fill this entire hangar with freezers. I can start stacking them on top of one another too, with the right support framing.”

The affiliate account was sitting at just over one-hundred and nineteen million, and I had a cool sixty-three million in my own account. For the first time since BuyMort arrived, I felt like we were okay on morties.

“That sounds good, draw up plans for that. I have no use for this area beyond the Sleem farm anyway, and I want to maximize that income. Don’t increase it further just yet though. Have to run that errand we discussed earlier,” I said.

“Ah yes,” Axle said, snapping his claws. “I almost forgot, let’s make a sale. This should make you happy.”

He swiped at the air in front of himself for a few seconds before closing his tab and turning back to the rows of freezers. A small swarm of BuyMort pods arrived a few seconds later, zipping silently past us and arranging themselves in a pattern around the room. There was one pod for every five freezers, evenly spaced out between them.

Axle cupped his paws around his mouth and shouted, “doors opening!” down into the hangar.

A hobb repeated the phrase and the group of workers all backed away from the freezers. The Sleem freezers wouldn’t open if any live Sleem were detected inside them, but there was always the possibility that some of them would try to rush out from further down the pipes, so caution was adhered to.

Axle pressed the air in front of himself like a button, then leaned on the railing to watch. With an audible hiss, several freezer doors slid open at the same time, and the temperature in the hangar dropped slightly as a freezing fog rolled across the floor.

The pods began warping out frozen Sleem, changing direction and rapid firing beams. For a few seconds, we all enjoyed a complimentary light-show, thanks to BuyMort. Part way through the process, I heard an Afflqwst notification ping, and pulled up the app.

Quest – Complete affiliate upgrades and produce appropriate income. Act like a real affiliate.

REQUIREMENTS:

1. Collect twenty-five million morties worth of income from affiliate products or services. (25,000,000/25,000,000 complete)

2. Complete all construction projects in que. (Complete)

3. Effect repairs on damaged affiliate structures. (Complete)

4. (Optional) Install a memorial for fallen affiliate members. (Complete)

REWARD – Item coupon.

The total sale amount for all our Sleem freezers, even with some around the outer edge being only half-full, was just over seven million morties. Our hourly income was rising significantly.

The item coupon itself was only worth fifty-five thousand morties, a strangely familiar amount.

I nudged Axle. “We can go now, if you want to.”

He nodded but didn’t look at me. “In a moment, we can return to Lee’s office for that. Right now, I need to supervise the sale.”

“Ah, right. In case of Sleem,” I said.

“Yes, among other potential problems,” he muttered, paying closer attention to his screens and the lightshow below us than to me.

Once the pods were done, they all turned and left the hangar, flying back over our shoulders and leaving through the walkway. “Door check!” Axle shouted.

“Checking doors!” came the hobb-grunted reply. A few moments later, the same voice sounded again. “Doors checked! Secure!”

“Okay,” Axle said with a smile. “Let’s go.”

A few moments later, we were comfortably seated in Lee’s office with the door closed and locked, and I linked with Axle to dive into the ad-space where the Teslak Cooperative’s storefront awaited.

The terms my coupon added to the search bar were familiar, and this time, Axle saw them too.

Starfish, base-tier, second deployment, destroy BuyMort.

The Knowle’s head cocked, and he narrowed his eyes. The search terms brought up the Teslak storefront, and our consciousnesses were drawn in.

Red and black light swirled and twinkled through the frozen dust in the air. It seemed to be moving, tiny trails of dust funneling to different areas in the room, slowly drifting in tracks. The holographic display came to life by itself this time, and the image was far more stable than my previous visit. It flickered only slightly as the form took shape.

Specter was there in the light, waiting behind the counter with his hands on the glass and gentle smile in place. His apron was clean, and he was uninjured. “Welcome, to the Teslak Cooperative,” he said.

Axle stepped forward toward an aisle at my side. He peered down at the perk patch items and carefully read the sign. “Teslak’s answer to the stat shots? I’ve heard of stat shots, high level affiliate members almost always have them. Nanorobotic injections that increase body function. Highly sought after item. Very expensive, each dose is worth billions.”

The Knowle glanced up at me, and then his jaw dropped. “You have one of these, that explains your unnatural strength! This is where it all comes from?”

I nodded. “It is. I’m putting a great deal of faith in you, Axle.”

He swallowed hard and nodded back. “I can see that.” He paused and fished in his pockets for a small camera. “I must record all of this.”

“Just keep it secret, please,” I said.

Axle chuckled, bending over to closely scan the perk patch signs. “Ah yes, your war against BuyMort, don’t worry. I won’t be sharing that with anyone, anytime soon.” He stepped further away, scanning a row of basic starfish suits, still in their cases. “I can’t imagine trying to explain it, at any rate.”

“Hey, you saw the string of search terms, this place is all about fighting BuyMort . . . somehow,” I replied. “Just wait until you meet Specter.”

“Is Specter the holographic store representative?” Axle asked. “If so, please wait for me before interacting with him, I want to record it all.”

I nodded and waited, looking around the storefront. The light wasn’t as bad, and the walls themselves seemed to be less broken than the last time. Tiny lines of dust swirled slowly all around us, flowing into cracks in the walls and floors.

Behind Specter, the rear wall of the affiliate was still mostly missing, and a vibrant glow shined through his ghostly figure. Axle approached behind me, his eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Is that . . .” The Knowle snorted. “We’re in the accretion disk of a black hole.” His features crinkled in confusion, then his tail tucked, coming up to cover his groin in front. “We’re in the accretion disk of a black hole,” he repeated, his voice shaking. “What kind of affiliate can do that? Nothing but BuyMort can manipulate black holes.”

I shrugged. “A relic affiliate. This thing talks about BuyMort like a competitor, not a governing system.” I pointed to Specter, still patiently waiting for us to approach. “He gives me advice on how to survive BuyMort, watch.”

Waving a hand, I stepped up to Specter.

“Welcome, I see you’re here for a basic Starfish extreme environment suit starter kit. This comes with the essential Teslak repair system, and reactor. Are you ready to ring up your purchase?” Specter asked. His image didn’t stutter or repeat, and it barely flickered at all while he spoke.

Teslak was coming back to life, and I suspected it was because of me.

Axle held up a hand. “Wait. I must take a moment, please. Just don’t do anything.”

I nodded and he retreated back down the aisle. He sat down against the shelf and stared at his camera for a few minutes, muttering and shaking his head before he stood again and returned. “May I speak to it?” he asked.

I waved a hand. “Please. I’ve tried asking him pointed questions before, but it hasn’t been working as well as it is now. I think I might have woken this affiliate up, and it's been healing or repairing itself ever since.”

Axle stepped up to the counter and faced Specter. “Tell me about your affiliate, please,” he said, aiming his camera at the holographic elf.

Specter smiled warmly and waved a hand behind himself. The image scaled out to show a sprawling city-scape. As the camera continued, the city became a planet, covered in buildings and life. We swept further, to see a spinning solar system with two stars and dozens of planets, which then faded into the swirling arm of a galactic cluster. Specter arrived in his clean apron, as the image plunged into a gaping black hole, slowing as it dove toward the center of the inky darkness.

Light burst from the end of the darkness, a sweeping vista of thick, white, flowing material. It pulsed and shifted, curving first like a river, then like tree trunks as the material stilled and solidified. Everywhere, universes splashed against the blinding white background, flowing into and through one another.

“The Teslak Cooperative is the premier consumer experience available in the upper Myopian universal flow, coming soon to mid and lower, and perhaps even the outer flow, if demand is great enough,” Specter said. “The last remaining competitor of the BuyMort system, on which we are also available, through affiliate storefront.”

Axle swallowed hard. “BuyMort’s competitor?” he whimpered.

The image changed, and what I had come to think of as the ‘real’ Specter was suddenly leaning on the counter, bleeding and weakened.

“BuyMort is the end of everything it touches.Teslak was more than a store, it was an entire civilization, dedicated to fighting back against BuyMort, in the early days. Now, I’m all that’s left. Me and our remaining stock.”

Specter coughed and spit blood on the floor at his feet.

“BuyMort introduced a self-destructive concept back into our greater society, and we were defenseless against it.Teslak stood longer than most of the flow, but when it fell, the remnant you see now became my only way to undo our mistake, to stop BuyMort. It propagates like life now, but much faster, through the black holes that connect our universes. Worse, it’s creating new ones, at much too rapid a pace to sustain. The multiversal flow will cease, if you can’t stop BuyMort.”

The image blinked again, and clean, uninjured Specter was back. “Would you like to complete your purchase now?”

“The greater Myopian flow,” Axle whispered. “I know what the multiverse was called, before BuyMort.” His tail uncurled and he smiled.

“Freeing, isn’t it?” I asked with a dry chuckle.

Axle looked at me, tears fresh in his eyes. “It is. I must bring Jada, please. I cannot hide this knowledge from my mate.”

I nodded immediately, clasping his paw. “I promise you, the entire multiverse will know its name one day. For right now, you can bring in Jada, but don’t let Morbin hear you.”

Axle met my eyes. “We must defeat Dearth and grow the affiliate. It is our only chance.”

I nodded, lips drawn tight. “I know. That’s why we’re here.” I looked up at Specter. “Yes, I’d like to complete my purchase.”

There was more to learn here, but the relic affiliate was healing now, and Axle was already overwhelmed. I couldn’t spend the time needed to get him used to the concept, but at least he was with me in the fight.

Teslak was a relic storefront, and from the sounds of it, most relic storefronts weren't in direct competition with BuyMort. A direct competitor was our best shot of stopping BuyMort. A fucking store.

A store that got out of control, and became a rolling apocalypse, to the very multiverse itself, let alone the hapless worlds it encountered along the way.

I couldn’t say exactly what would happen once the multiverse flow ceased, but it sounded bad. Like going through a windshield bad.

It occurred to me that Specter had likely been dead for millions of years, if not longer. He had preserved his affiliate by hiding it in the time and space warping inner layers of a black hole and lain in wait for someone like me to try and succeed where he had failed.

Whatever his affiliate could give me to keep my people alive, to keep Molls alive, I would take.

Specter wiped his hands gently on his pristine apron. “Thank you so much for your purchase, we’ll see you again soon.”

Axle and I were ejected from the affiliate back into Lee’s office.

Chapter 48

I fixed Axle with a stare. “Want to try telling me what BuyMort is again?” I asked.

He wiped tears from his eyes and shook his head.

“So much worse than I imagined,” he whispered. “BuyMort is a remnant of what your people would call a Kardashev type six civilization. It appears to have destroyed that incredibly advanced civilization, and now destroys anything that can interact with it, as well as the fabric of the multiverse itself.”

“You’ve been reading up on humans,” I said. “Kardashev isn’t exactly everyday material.”

The Knowle nodded his shaggy head. “I have, your world is fascinating, and many of your people have books and other stored information to share.”

“Well, that settles it for me,” I said. “Are you clear on your next job?”

He nodded. “Very. I would go so far as to say Silken Sands has my undying loyalty, for what it has shown me. What you have shown me,” Axle said, reaching out an oversized paw. “Thank you, for the knowledge.”

I shrugged but shook his hand. “You and I had very different childhoods, I suspect. But I’m glad you’re here. I consider you my friend, and you have nothing to thank me for.”

We were interrupted by a sudden thump against the door. I stood to open it and looked back at Axle. He wiped at his eyes and slid his camera away, before raising a finger to his lips and nodding at me.

I opened the door, and a BuyMort pod floated in. It warped in a familiar box, and the smell of fresh flesh-tape permeated the room. Good old Tower, making sure we got our packages, nice and secure.

Axle tore the tape off with a nail, and I pulled the flaps open to expose a brand new, basic version of my starfish suit. Teslak hadn’t given me any choice this time, which meant I was supposed to get another version of the suit I already had. Specter wasn’t just going to equip me, he was going to equip my affiliate too.

I stood and faced Axle. “I’m sorry, Axle, but this one isn’t for you,” I said.

He nodded, looking at my suit again with hesitation. “I might not want one, to be perfectly honest. I am not sure I can stand being ripped apart the way you do.”

“It’s not fun, no. Strangely enough, you can get used to anything, if you have an oasis,” I said. Molls’ beautiful face swam through my mind, and I pushed her aside. I planned to go see her as quickly as I could, but there was one more thing I had to do first. Well, two, since I needed to apologize too.

A few moments later, Axle had gone to find Jada and bring her to the sound-proofed office, and I was searching for Rayna in the underground residential area, carrying the new starfish suit. Her hobbs had directed me to the lower levels, where I found her still in Taytrinn’s old room, sitting in one of the chairs.

The walls were covered in tapestries of hobb accomplishments. Some of them featured battle, but most were about building, or growing. My favorite was a simple farmland, covered in hobbs working the earth and raising wood-beamed buildings. Rayna saw me staring and stood.

“Yes boss,” she grunted.

“It's just you and me, please call me Tyson,” I sighed.

She nodded, and gestured to the chair. “Okay. Tyson. Sit?”

I sat, and Rayna stood at attention in front of me. It became immediately awkward, so I stood again, facing her. “I was harsh with you, earlier today, and you didn’t deserve it, you were just doing your job,” I said, meeting her eyes.

“I understand now, some humans have a different way of providing value, and are to be treated like tribe elders,” the hobb woman said. I could tell by her cadence that she had rehearsed it, after careful thought.

“Thank you, Rayna. That is exactly right. I would extend it to hobbs too. What I want is for anybody who can contribute in some way, to do that. But it can’t ever be forced, especially if they’re unsuited for the task,” I said.

“Mel scared of yarsps. Too scared. It was wrong to push her to yarsp duty, I know now,” she said.

“Good, I trust you. Don’t worry, Rayna, I trust you,” I said, grasping her hand in my own. “I need to talk to you about something important, and I have a gift for you, if you want it.”

She nodded, and I let go of her hand. “Thank you. I don’t want to be fired,” she said.

“Holy shit, you were worried about being fired? I don’t know what I would do without you, Rayna, I’m not going to fire you. I just upped your tribe's percentage to a tenth of our total income, because of how much I trust you. We are partners, Rayna, and I desperately need your help right now,” I said, babbling. It just tumbled out of me. The task ahead was badly frightening, and I was unable to keep it out of my voice.

“I need your help, please,” I said again, sitting down. I reached in my bag and carefully produced the small MortBlock, compulsively hitting the scan button to refresh it. Then I put it on top of the cardboard box from BuyMort between us and slid them over to her.

Rayna stared at the MortBlock, then looked up at me, the question in her eyes obvious.

“I’m going to the Dearth Conglomerate soon, Rayna, and I’m going to try and kill them, and take their MortBlocks. To do this, Lee is pretending to sell me out to their leadership. I need you to keep our MortBlock safe while I’m gone,” I said, carefully choosing my words.

She looked between it and me again, and then blinked. “You want me to hold MortBlock, then give back?”

I nodded, keeping my eyes on hers.

The hobb woman blinked again, looking at the block and then at me. “We are partners. I will guard our MortBlock with my life.”

I smiled and breathed out a sigh of relief. “If I don’t come back, that becomes your MortBlock. You do what you can to save our people, if that happens.”

She shook her head. “It won’t. You will destroy Dearth. I know it.”

We sat in silence for a long moment while I wished I had her confidence. Then I shook my head and pointed at the bigger box beneath the MortBlock. “That’s for you, if you want it.”

Rayna carefully lifted the MortBlock and set it down on the chair beside her, before lifting the flaps of the box and peering inside. Her grey, pebbled features tilted, and her eyes narrowed. “What is it?”

“It’s a suit like mine,” I said, eyes on the floor. I still heard her breath as she caught it, a barely audible choke of surprise and terror.

“Like yours,” she started. “Suit like yours put you back together when yarsps tear you apart. When Drusk kill you. When stupid humans shoot you.”

“And when the Sleem engulfed me, and when the aggropedes super-shivved me, and when the suicide-bomber bombed me,” I droned. “Yes, it’s that kind of suit. It embeds some kind of indestructible metal all over your body and recharges when you break things. Then, if you get hurt, it just cuts that part out and replaces it with a new one that it makes itself.”

The hobb lifted the starfish shaped harness out of the box and turned it to read the etching on the flat side. She looked at my chest, where mine was seated. “It gets smaller?”

I nodded again and she frowned.

“How do we know this works on hobbs?” she asked.

“We don’t. But I suspect it works on any form of sapient life, based on the affiliate,” I replied.

Rayna set the starfish down, took a deep breath, nodded, and pulled off her own shirt. “I trust you, boss,” she said with conviction. Then she pressed the starfish to her own bared breasts. I winced as the suit began to deploy.

It unfolded and extended across her chest from between her breasts, rippling as it went lower across her stomach. Rayna’s eyes shifted, first steadfast, but quickly filled with fear. Tracks of plating forced her head back, her arms out, and her legs stiff. She grunted in pain as the turbine ground its way down into her sternum, and smoke arose from between her gray-skinned breasts.

Her shorts tore free as the plates folded down her legs, and covered her groin, forming a shield similar to my own out of tendrils, and then retracting it to expose her genitals. I looked away, as she groaned in pain. The turbine wound up and Rayna gasped as something in her midsection tore free. The machine’s sound became thicker, and gray blood and flesh ejected from the turbine, to spatter the BuyMort box and concrete floor around us.

I stood to go find something to cover Rayna with. The room around us was their domicile, with large wooden and reed furniture against the walls. I went to a small set of drawers and began opening them, looking for clothing.

In the top was a jumble of human panties, mixed in with older looking gray cloth rags. I quickly closed it and opened the middle. Fresh clothing in the form of sports attire populated the drawer. I snatched a pair of basketball shorts and tossed them across the room toward Rayna.

Her naked body convulsed on the floor as something else was torn free, this time from inside her throat. The turbine ejected viscera and gore as she clutched at her throat and her chest heaved, unable to draw air. “I’m so sorry, Rayna,” I whispered, turning back to the drawers. The bottom drawer held shirts, jerseys for local sports teams. I grabbed a large one and turned back to help her.

Whatever the suit had torn out of her throat got its replacement popped into place, and Rayna took a great, gasping breath. “What is happening?” she cried.

“It’s repairing you,” I said, kneeling down to hold her hand. “Anything that was sick, or broken, is being cut out and replaced. She gripped my hand hard, crushing down with all of her strength to keep from screaming. Tendrils had deployed down one leg, and busily carved out a section of her shin, before rapidly producing replacements and slapping them in place. As it lasered the final wound closed, Rayna blinked away tears of pain and squeezed my hand again.

“Is it showing you a strange creature yet?” I asked.

The nude hobb woman nodded rapidly and pointed at a chair across from us.

“You’re okay, it does that. You can talk to that thing to change some of what your suit does. It’s annoying but won’t hurt you,” I said, draping the jersey over her chest and pressing the basketball shorts into her hands. “I’m sorry it was this hard on you.”

I turned away again as Rayna dressed, still watching her own cartoon starfish. I had actually forgotten about that before I offered her the suit and felt terrible for not warning her. But if she was going to protect this place without me, I needed her to be able to survive anything that threatened us.

“I think it is over,” she said, shakily moving to the chair again and slumping into it. She breathed hard and looked over my shoulder, as her features slumped to vacancy. “I had many old wounds, my broken leg was from childhood, I had forgotten about it entirely. What did the suit give me,” she breathed, still reeling from the drugs. “My head is so fuzzy.”

“A pain drug. It should wear off soon, mine always does. You need to get used to that feeling, it can’t slow you down during a bad fight,” I told her. It was much easier to look at her now that she was clothed again, and I strongly approved of the way neither of us were mentioning it. I had forgotten it ripped your clothes off when it installed itself too. Almost like I had blocked those memories out or something.

“I must tell Tollya,” Rayna whispered. Her forehead glinted from beneath her thick, dark hair line. The suit’s lines were much thicker on her than me, but I knew an upgrade would fix that. She was a fighter, and chose this, knowing what the suit did to me regularly.

“I am sorry, I should have warned you more thoroughly,” I said, shaking my head.

“Do not apologize, it is fine. I am fine,” she breathed. Her voice was steadier, and she sounded stronger already. “It is much to take, at once. That is all.”

I nodded. “I understand and agree. It gets easier. You get used to most of it.”

“Most,” Rayna repeated. She leaned back in her chair and breathed slowly.

I thought of Molls again, of her roasting hot car, and her scales pressed against my skin.

“I need to go, are you alright?” I asked.

The hobb nodded, slowly. “I am alright,” she said. “I will guard our MortBlock with my life.”

“And you’ll be harder to kill now,” I said, standing up to leave. “Much harder to kill.”

Rayna stood suddenly and raised her fist to salute me, pressing it to her chest. “Thank you, boss.”

I stood tall and returned the gesture, meeting her eyes. Then I turned and left the room, walking out into the Arizona sunshine.

Chapter 49

There was something about the moment, the knowledge that I’d just gifted Rayna with the power of the suit, that left me quiet and introspective. We’d been partners since the beginning just a week ago, and this felt like a solid acknowledgement of the fact that all of us were in this together.

The moment weighed heavy inside me, strong and meaningful. I strolled through the camp, not talking to anyone and not meeting anyone’s eyes until I was back outside Molls’ car. I knocked more than once, but she didn’t answer.

Her form appeared in the upstairs windows of my oversized greenhouse, and she waved cheerfully. A wall of tall, green plants blocked her from view as soon as she moved back. I walked to the mud-crete structure, leaning in the doorway.

Cube turned and faced me, a low growl sounding in the air.

“Yeah, hi to you too, Cube,” I muttered to the irritated little box.

A hatch clicked open above us, and Molls slid down the spiral stairs.

“Oh no, you woke him, he just went down a couple hours ago.” She approached me, arms open, and we embraced. I leaned up, and we kissed, holding the moment. The mess I had made of Rayna and our affiliate washed away, and I found my oasis again.

“TIRED!” Cube shouted, breaking our embrace. Molls giggled and let go of me, turning to scoop up the little metal box.

He immediately began purring. Seemed to like everybody but me.

Molls cradled Cube and hummed a wordless tune while holding him up close to her throat. Within seconds, the box had quieted and begun emitting small snoring sounds. She set him down on a cloth dog bed on a new table in the middle of the room. It looked like black plastic, and I saw wires running from it to the walls and out the door.

The Nah’gh woman noticed me staring and held a finger to her lips, before turning to leave the room. In the doorway, she turned back and held her hand out to me, smiling gently.

I exhaled for what felt like the first time all day, stepped over to her, and took her hand. She guided me into the center room, and then up the spiral stairs to my bedroom. As I entered, I noticed the wave of heat that buffeted me first, followed closely by the pleasant smell of growing green plants.

There was a mirror on the ceiling, and a large, Florida king-sized pad on the floor, covered with sheets, blankets, and pillows. It took up most of the room. Molls slid aside and held the new door hatch for me, closing us into the sauna-like heat of the greenhouse.

There was a sliding wooden door on a track that could be used to close the greenhouse off from the rest of the bedroom, and contain most of its heat, but Molls had it wide open, and sunlight streamed into the room through leafy foliage, painting everything in golden green light.

Molls slowly turned pink as I took in the room. “I’m sorry, Tyson, I think I overstepped. I was just baby-sitting Cube to help out the hobbs and thought it might be nice to get your home set up a little.”

I stepped in close and leaned Molls back up against the wall, stopping her apologies with another, harder kiss. The pink in her scales flushed out to purple by the time we stopped to breathe.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Your oasis?” She asked, leaning into our embrace.

“My oasis,” I repeated.

Her tongue flicked out and back in, and a faint ripple of green flushed through her scales. “Have you been working with flesh-tape again?” she gently asked.

Tower rose in my mind, his skull-shaped face forming with steam billowing from his meat, spikes of bone sliding up to form a cage around his face. I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. “Yeah, sorry. We got a package for Rayna today. Why don’t I go shower?”

Molls sighed and pushed off against the wall, trailing her fingertips across my forearm as she slid toward the greenhouse. It was filled with walls of leafy ferns, palms, and other various foliage. “I can’t tell you how much it means that you had this room built,” she said, looking over her shoulder toward me. “It makes me feel very welcome, very comfortable.”

I blinked and smiled. “That was my goal.”

A sudden tear formed and Molls turned away, stifling a sob.

I stopped, coming back into the room to slide my arm around her. “Did they take your robes away?”

She couldn’t speak without sobbing, I could see, but she nodded her head rapidly and wiped furiously at her tears.

I wrapped my arms around her, held her, and waited, saying nothing. Within a few seconds, she wrapped her tail around me and leaned her head over my shoulder, crying openly. I merely held her and rubbed my hand slowly along the scales on her back.

After a few minutes, she had calmed enough to speak, and we sat on the bed to talk.

“It all went in Dearth’s favor,” she explained. “They put the drug use on my record as reason for termination and I’m blackballed against being part of the church ever again. My mother fought so hard to get me into the priesthood, I didn’t know how to tell her. Just stared at her on the phone, crying until she figured it out.” The tall reptilian beauty used a bath sheet as her tissue, touching it to the corners of her eyes as oversized tears would form.

“We knew this was coming,” I offered with a shrug. “Probably doesn’t make it any easier though, huh?”

Molls scales flushed with yellow before reverting to a mix of red and pink. “It does,” she sighed. “And doesn’t. I was cheated out of something important to me, and to my family. And I’ve been forced to recognize the corruption in my former affiliate.” Her shoulders slumped. “It’s been a long, mostly bad week.”

“Mostly bad?” I asked.

Molls snorted a laugh. “Yes, mostly. Meeting you was a surprisingly pleasant part of my week.”

The mood was lifting from her already, her tears no longer flowed.

“What will you do for morties now?” I asked, leaning back against the wall.

“I don’t know, nothing for a while. I need time to think, to find my center again,” she sighed and unfurled her long body on the bed in a stretch. The tip of her tail reached all the way into the greenhouse.

I raised my eyebrows. “That sounds nice, you must have a comfortable stash in your personal account.”

Molls rolled her eyes. “Of course, my mother made sure of that. She sent me a massive account transfer the moment she heard of my termination. Went on the warpath with her own church contacts too. Wants me to come home, of course, keeps threatening to send our family ship to come get me.” She waved a hand dismissively. “I don’t want to talk about my mother.”

“That’s a shame, she sounds kinda nice,” I mumbled.

“Well, she’s not. Take my word for it,” Molls said, rolling her body to loom over my face. She flicked her tongue out briefly and grimaced again. The green in her scales washed out the red, and was closely followed by a wave of gleaming purple as her eyes roamed down my bare chest.

I laughed and stood up, moving back to the bathroom wall. “I know, I know, sorry.”

Molls smiled, widely. She slithered up to me and ducked in for another quick kiss. “Hurry up and shower,” she said, with a wink. The glittering purple Nah’gh woman slid toward the greenhouse again, drawing the zipper on her heated robe down and shrugging out of the garment.

I stared at her from the corner of the bathroom wall, to confirm that she wasn’t wearing anything under the robe, before darting into the shower.

A while later, between bouts of vigorous physical socializing, we talked. We talked endlessly about nothing. None of the huge things weighing on my mind mattered when I was with her, all I wanted to know about was her crazy childhood, her preference in food, intoxicants, music, all of it. I drained her of information, hungry to know her, as much as I could. We were hungry to explore each other’s bodies as well of course, which interfered as much as we wanted it to.

The infatuation was powerful.

Night began to fall as we lay in bed, her tail casually looped around my legs. We were still breathing hard and sweating from the most recent mutual conclusion, and in my post-coital bliss, I couldn’t stop thinking about BuyMort, of course.

“Molls?” I breathed.

“Mmm?” she moaned.

“What is BuyMort?” I asked.

She slid upright and looked me in the eyes. “Why do you ask again?”

I shrugged and looked down. “Sorry, I just . . . I have to do something soon, and I need to know what you think BuyMort is again, before I do.”

She blinked and her head pulled away. “I’m not sure I understand. What do you have to do?”

I grimaced, sighed, and told her. “I have to reactivate my suit’s cranial repair function. I won’t survive Dearth without it, and I’m going soon, before they can attack us again, I hope.”

“Oh,” she said. Her body pulled closer again, and she pressed up against me. “You must be frightened.”

“Yeah,” I said, slipping an arm underneath her and pulling her closer against my chest. “I don’t know what will happen to me.”

She breathed out a little sigh of satisfaction. “I’ll stay with you,” she whispered in my ear. “I’ll help make sure you know you’re still you.”

“Thank you, Molls,” I said, muffled somewhat by her encroaching physical presence. Sex with her kind of never really seemed to end, regardless of how satisfying each time was. While we were in bed together, she primarily seemed to desire a great deal of physical contact, which regularly led to sex, of course. It was an intense, but comforting experience, very much unlike the few human women kind enough to grace me with their company throughout the years. None of them stood to this strange, beautiful, dangerous woman from another world.

She was worth dying for.

“Just, tell me what BuyMort is again, please,” I said again. Her gyrations ceased, but she didn’t pull away.

“BuyMort is the thread, our great connector. BuyMort brings us all together, gives us all purpose. BuyMort is life, Tyson,” she said. “I’ve told you all this.”

“No you’re life, Molls. I’m life. This, us, right here together in bed, this is life,” I sighed. I turned more fully to her, and pressed my hand against her breastplate, where I could feel her steady heartbeat. With my other hand, I pressed hers against my chest, to the left of the starfish device.

“This is life. This has nothing to do with BuyMort,” I said.

Her scales flushed with pink. “You asked,” she whispered.

Shame flooded through me. “I’m sorry Molls, forget all of it.” I rolled to kiss her again, and she slowly accepted the affection, wrapping her tail around my legs more firmly. Then she pressed my shoulders back down onto the pad and loomed over the top of me, the way she liked to do.

“Why does this torment you so?” she asked, staring me in the eyes.

I sighed and smiled. “I don’t understand it. Things I don’t understand bother me,” I said, smiling softly from one corner of my mouth. “I’m sorry Molls, really. I shouldn’t have brought it up, and I definitely shouldn’t have gone after you for it. BuyMort brought us together, and I’m grateful for that. I don’t need anything more than that.”

Her tail moved just so, and I squirmed at her touch. “You don’t?” she asked, a mock frown on her lips. “Are you sure?”

I grinned and rose to meet her lips, gripping her shoulders as we kissed and fell back to welcome distraction.

Hours later, my phone buzzed in the dark. I flipped it out to see Lee’s face and swiped to answer, keeping plain mud-crete behind my head. Molls was sound asleep at my side, her tail curled all around me.

Lee looked up at the camera and saw my face, then scowled and nodded. “It’s done. I’m to deliver you just outside their gates in two hours.”

“Thank you Lee,” I said.

He nodded, then closed the call. I dropped my phone and sighed. Molls shifted and raised her head, eyes lidded sleepily. “Is it time?” she yawned.

I nodded. “It is. Are you sure Molls? This might . . . not be pretty.”

She awoke more fully and shivered, before pulling the blanket over her shoulders and tucking in close to my chest. “I’m not letting you do this alone. I’m here for you.”

I nodded, and clutched her to me in a tight embrace. Her coils squeezed around my lower limbs in response. “Starfish suit,” I said to the night.

My cartoon popped up and peered at me, cocking its oddly shaped head to the side.

“Restore cranial repair function,” I told it, a cold dread in my chest. Molls squeezed my hand, and I closed my eyes.

“Damage detected user! Don’t worry, this will just take a second!” the cartoon jeered. A tendril began worming its way up my chest, into my neck, and further up. I felt it push against the back of my sinuses, then something inside my skull began to spin and the world went black.

“Tyson!” I swam out of the depths of unconsciousness and saw Molls eyes peering down at me. She was holding a towel to my chest, having caught the churned up brain matter with it. The cartoon starfish was still in the corner, dancing as usual.

“Repairs complete!” it chirped, before saluting me and vanishing.

“I think I’m okay,” I told Molls, blinking in disorientation.

“You stopped breathing,” she said. “I got scared.”

The world looked different, but just barely.

Like everything got a slight upgrade in terms of clarity.

I guess those traumatic brain injuries really messed with my eyes before the suit did its work. My senses were all just slightly cleared up. I hadn’t even noticed the tinnitus until it was gone, and the sudden silence was disorienting.

I shook my head and blinked a few times, getting used to the cleaner, clearer view, and sound profiles. My hearing was improved dramatically, I could hear a hobb crunching the gravel in the road outside the privacy mound, likely on patrol. I could hear Molls scales as they slid against the sheets.

The disorientation drove a spike of fear through my chest. I couldn’t tell if I was still me, and it felt different enough to send my mind spiraling. Had I died? Was I dead? Molls took my hands in hers and leaned up. “Hey, you’re okay. Look at me,” she said. The command was gentle, but not something I could ignore. I stared up into her eyes and she smiled. “You’re still you. You’re okay.”

I exhaled a shaky breath and nodded at her. She pressed her own body down against mine and kissed my lightly on the lips, before leaning her head against my chest and sighing. “You’re you, you’re okay.”

The strange clarity and my own fears were no match for her soothing voice, and out of a powerful desire to be free from my fear, I chose to believe her. Innocent, wise, naïve Molls, with her voracious sexual appetite and strange religion, was my chosen guide, and I believed her when she told me I was still myself.

My breathing stabilized and my heart slowed. “There you go, you’re okay. Remember your oasis,” she said, smiling up at me.

Her eyes were lidded sleepily, but her tail started moving in that specific way again.

I chuckled and leaned down to kiss her, before moving to extricate myself from her long, alluring body. “As much as I would love to do nothing but this for three days straight, I have something terrible to go do instead,” I said, turning back to look at her.

She sprawled out nude in my bed, unconcerned with covering herself. The night had cooled the room significantly, but there was plenty of residual heat in the mattress pad to keep the chill off from her.

“Hey,” I said, reaching a hand out. She raised her own and gripped mine, smiling up at me. “Thank you for fixing up my place. You’re welcome here anytime.”

Her gaze fell to my groin, and she grinned. “Well, I plan to hold you to that three day session, sometime soon. But, I think I’ll get dressed and get back to my den. It’s much warmer there at night.”

I smiled, enjoying the view for a few seconds before I leaned down and kissed the back of her hand. “Gotta run. I’ll see you soon, I hope.”

She was still smiling at me, her tail undulating around her naked form, as I grabbed my pants and left through the hatch.

Chapter 50

Whether or not I had just died didn’t matter. It was time to go hurt Dearth. But first, I suspected, Dearth was going to hurt me, a lot.

I slipped on my silk pants and walked into Cube’s room. He was no longer on the raised platform, but it seemed that Axle had set up a receiver under his bed too. I looked around the room and saw several more, including one large pad near the door. Most of them were big enough to hold Cube several times over.

“Hey, what’s up, little buddy?” I said, reaching over to scratch Cube as he yawned awake.

The little block of metal surprised me by leaning up into the motion and purring. I smiled, leaning down to look at him up close.

Cube chose that moment to projectile vomit in my face. A stream of pure silver ejected from his gear-like teeth, splashing across my face and clothing.

“SICK!” Cube shouted. “FEEL SICK!”

I wiped at my face and backed off a step, staring at the little block as he began to rattle. Another splash of liquid metal vomit erupted from his mouth, and he began groaning at an escalating volume.

Molls appeared in the hatch behind me. “Is Cube okay?” she called down.

“No, somethings wrong, Molls. Stay back, it's not safe.” I yelled over my shoulder. My front was a mess of hot silver liquid, clinging to my clothing and dripping from my week old beard. I swiped more of it off and threw it on the floor in disgust, as Cube started making a new sound.

The groan began to burble, and suddenly cut out as liquid metal gushed from Cubes mouth. It arced straight up in the air and cascaded down in a fountain, covering Cube wholly. The volume of gushing liquid increased, and Cube’s bed quickly soaked through with it. Splashes landed on the windows, the walls, and even made it as far away as the doors. The vomit poured in a solid sheet of metal off the counter, pooling on the mud-crete floor as Molls gasped from behind me.

She’d come down the stairs. I backed up and held out my arm at her. “Stay back, I don’t know what he’s doing.”

The stream of silver vomit slowed, and the pools of liquid around the room started running backward. Even the material on my shirt and stuck in my stubble rolled free and ran back up the counter to Cube. As it flowed, it formed up around the little box and began growing corners.

A square of flowing liquid metal shaped itself on the counter, much larger than Cube had been. The flow of liquid slowed and eventually stopped, leaving a dingy silvery exterior that reflected the moonlight from outside.

“Cube?” I asked. “You okay, little guy?” All the lights Axle had installed in the room flickered and surged, before stabilizing.

The top of the box opened, and a familiar, but changed and deeper voice shouted, “CUBE FEEL BETTER NOW!”

I glanced between Cube and Molls and shook my head. “Keep an eye on him, please?”

Molls tied her robe tighter and pressed something in the sleeve. Her heating element glowed as it turned on, and she nodded at me. “At least he cleaned up his own mess,” she said.

I smiled at her and leaned back in for a quick kiss. “You’re the best, Molls. I’ll see you later.”

She smiled back but shook her head. “Go kick their ass, Tyson. We’ll be here when you come home. And you will come home.” Her face showed nothing but conviction, and faith. I nodded and left.

My first stop was at the storage barn. I needed more normal clothing. Couldn’t walk into Dearth’s main area wearing silk from dead delves. While rummaging, I found a set of basketball shorts and a matching undershirt, along with a new set of flip-flops. As I exited the storage barn, I walked into a group of people and aliens gathered around.

Lee had found me, and waited by a nearby truck, one arm casually draped around Suzanne. Rayna and Tollya stood in the parking lot nearby, both at their version of attention, staring directly at me. Axle and Jada were there too, seated on a nearby bench and quietly chatting. Phyllis hulked in the background, knelt down and talking to Doofus in a kind tone. Even Morbin was present, standing near the hobbs and pretending to look serious.

Lee approached first, with his wife in tow. “The arrangement is just us two. I’m expected to have you restrained,” he explained, rolling his neck uncomfortably. “Garthrust sent me a pod with a set of cuffs inside, supposed to be able to hold enhanced people like you.”

I nodded. Suzanne stepped in and hugged me without warning. I nodded and patted her back.

“Thank you for doing this,” she whispered, tears forming in her eyes. “You keep putting yourself in harm’s way for us.”

Lee put his arm around her waist and whispered in her ear. She nodded while holding her hands up to cover her mouth, as the tears flowed more freely.

“Don’t mind her,” he said, turning back to me. “You’ll be fine, and so will all of us.”

“Even the whiff of a deal has kept them off us all day,” I said, with a shrug. “But, as long as they have me, and don’t know where the MortBlock is, I want everyone here to be ready for anything. Even if they don’t attack, and things go our way, I’m going to need armed hobbs moving fast.”

Axle raised a claw. “We have a solid operations fund, and BlueCleave just bought their first additions to our humble fleet,” he finished by pointing to the front gate behind me. I turned and was confronted with the sight of several sizable vehicles.

They looked like a standard MRAP armored vehicle to my American-policed eyes, but the engine compartment was too short, and the body had very different doors. Several gullwing doors stood open, for rapid deployment or retrieval of troops. Each heavily-armored door lowered to cover a hardened area of the vehicle, providing comfortable protection for a single occupant. In total, each vehicle had room for fourteen. Two in the front operations cabin, and six along each side.

The center of the truck was dedicated to a long, thick barrel that rose from the middle of the chassis, showing a broad opening at the end.

Tollya stepped up beside me. “STRT M51A,” she growled out, great respect put into each syllable. “They not beautiful yet, but next time you see, you see.” Tollya stepped forward and stretched her arms out to form a square, crouching to see one section of a vehicle's cabin better.

“BlueCleave icon there,” she said. “Maybe some Dearth kill count icons on the side, beneath driver. Really let them know what coming.” The hobb was grinning as she turned back to me. “You see.”

I chuckled and nodded. “I’m looking forward to it, Tollya. And look, about Rayna and the suit,” I started.

She interrupted with, “when do I get mine?” and an eager stare.

“Soon,” I chuckled. “As soon as I can arrange it. You’re number two on my list, and Rayna was number one.”

A brief thought burned through my head, a battalion of armed hobbs, all wearing starfish suits, marching over the top of my enemies, and crushing BuyMort pods beneath their heels.

Rayna interrupted us both with a heavy sigh. “We talk, Tollya. Suit big deal. You should prepare.”

“Rayna,” I said, facing her fully. “I’m glad you’re okay. Keep everyone safe while I’m gone and be ready for my call.”

She nodded and saluted with a fist to her chest. “We coming to get you, if you gone too long. Phyllis coming to help you, so she bring one of these.” The hobb woman produced an ancient looking radio, roughly the size of a brick. “You tell us when to come, BlueCleave army all stay ready.”

“Morbin certainly ready,” my friend announced. He had the bottle of tequila, with only a hearty splash left at the bottom. The worm bounced against the glass as he shook it at me. “I save you a drink.”

I chuckled and shook my head. “Very generous of you. I assume you would like to eat the worm?”

He nodded, vigorously. I stepped over and reached down, taking the bottle as he offered it. The liquor burned, and I was honestly glad to avoid the worm. I’d never gotten a taste for those.

Morbin happily guzzled the last of the amber liquid and immediately started chewing. “Hmm!” he grunted. “Chewier than Morbin expect. Not very nice tasting.” He flicked his head a couple of times and swallowed with an audible gulp. “Morbin time!” His long arms raised in a cheer.

I laughed and smiled at the odd little creature, who was rapidly becoming my friend. I knelt down and rested a hand on his undersized shoulder.

“Morbin, if I make it back, we’re gonna fix up that bar. I want to rename it too, I was thinking ‘Morbin’s Time,’ what do you think?”

He gaped up at me, eyes widening in terror. “What? No, it's Morbin time! Not Morbin’s time, that make me sound like prick. Like the fun all about Morbin, no, no Morbin hate that!”

Then he saw the wry smile on my face and started laughing. “You trick Morbin! Yes, okay, good name, I agree we rename bar after my slogan. ‘Morbin’s bar’ just lack creativity.”

“Hey!” Axle yelped. Jada laughed, and Tollya joined her.

I approached Doofus and Phyllis. The dog projected a set of buttons as I approached and pawed at one. “Stay,” his machine voice said.

“I can’t buddy. I have to go hunting, alone.” I crouched down and rubbed his ears the way he liked.

Doofus stared at me, then summoned his button again and pawed it. “Stay.”

I leaned in, and he draped his head around my shoulder with a whine. “I can’t, buddy,” I told him. “I have to do this.”

The collar lit up again when Doofus pulled out of our hug. He pawed at two buttons on the ground this time. “Hunt. Well,” his machine said. I nodded at the dog.

“I’ll come home, buddy, I promise,” I said.

Phyllis sniffed. Her mech had healed her even further throughout the day, and I could barely tell she had been burned so badly. Her hair was still gone entirely, so I tried not to stare at her bald head.

“Making promises you can’t keep, now?” the old lady asked. “They’ll tear you apart without me, you know that.”

“I do. But there’s a good chance I can get in front of the people directing all of this. If that happens, I’m gonna need you Phill,” I said, standing up to face her.

“Oh, I know, dearie, you’re simply helpless without me,” she said. “I’ve already set up a ticket with BuyMortMercMart, all you have to do is press yes, and I’ll zip over via pod in no time flat.”

A notification popped up, showing me the ticket she had crafted. I minimized it in my BuyMort interface for later, and smiled up at the old lady. “Got a joint for the road?” I asked.

Phyllis huffed, but pulled out her pack and shook one out for me. “This is Lemon Haze, don’t you go wasting it now,” she said, before tossing me the joint. I tipped my chin to her in thanks and slid the Lemon Haze behind my ear.

“Thanks, Phill. I’ll be calling for you soon, I hope. Be ready.” I smiled up at her.

“I’m always ready, Tyson, dearie. You know that,” she said, sparking her own new joint to smoke. “Unless I’m asleep.”

I looked at Lee, and he pointed to his wrist. It was time. Tollya approached as I stepped to the side, and I handed her my bag. “I left my weapons at home. If something happens, I want you to have them,” I muttered to her.

The hobb nodded at me, took the bag, and saluted again. I returned the gesture, before I turned away and got in the truck with Lee.

After he took a long moment to reassure his wife and say some goodbyes, Lee got in the driver’s seat of the truck and grunted as he started it. Black smoke chugged from the tailpipe, and the engine roared to life.

“We need a new fleet,” I sighed. I took out the joint and lit it, pulling a heavy cloud of smoke into my lungs. It had been days, and I missed Phyllis’ good weed. With what I was about to go through, I wanted to be sober about as much as I had wanted to crawl out of my nice warm snake-tangle earlier.

Lee’s mustache twitched. He ignored my statement, and my joint, and handed me a set of odd looking handcuffs. The center of them was thick metal, with a set of gears allowing movement at the wrist while not sacrificing any structural integrity.

They were serious cuffs, even the thin metal loop that extended or retracted from the center appeared solid, and the entire thing was far heavier than it should have been. Very dense material. I slid the cuffs on and put my hands in my lap.

“Those are supposed to hold you. I swept 'em for bugs, and there doesn't appear to be any. There was one in the box, which I have stored in a sound-proof safe in my office, so I feel comfortable speaking openly,” Lee said as he reversed out of his parking space.

We drove past the new BlueCleave APC and exited the main gates. I saw Hord on top of them, watching as we left. Before we could get out of sight, he held a salute toward our truck, along with the other hobbs on the wall.

I pressed against the restraints and felt the give in the gears at the center. They would break if I pulled hard enough. “They won’t,” I said. “Hold me, that is,” I added when Lee looked at me funny.

“Well, pretend long enough for me to get clear. This is supposed to be a straight hand-off. I leave you at a determined location, and once I’m clear and moving away, they fill my account with morties, then come get you,” he explained.

“How much you get?” I asked with a wry smile. I took a final puff from the joint and tossed it out the window. I could never smoke as much of those as Phyllis, and Darclaus ravens would clean up the litter anyway.

“As much as I could, two-hundred and fifty million. Every bit of it goes into the grow house if they actually pay up, lord knows we need the expansion with all those new hobbs,” he said.

I raised my cuffs and inspected them closer, looking at the weak points. “How do you feel about feeding even more?” I asked.

Lee’s eyes narrowed and his mustache twitched again. “More?” he asked.

“Yeah, the goal here is to take the Dearth Conglomerate Arizona board MortBlocks. We can’t tolerate these guys having so much power so close to us. If I can kill their leaders, I imagine a lot of the rank and file will just go along to get along. Especially if we have an army of hobbs,” I told him.

“You really think you can get this land away from them?” Lee asked.

I shrugged. “Only chance we have, we can’t keep waiting for them to move against us in force. So far we’ve just been an annoyance. I intend to make us a threat.”

The old man nodded. “You know that’s likely to upset the church and the rest of Dearth, I assume?”

I nodded, slowly. “Tomorrow’s problem. We keep growing, we can keep fighting, and everyone back there can keep living.”

We drove through the forest, unafraid of the yarsps. I knew they would be rebuilding for at least a couple of days before they could return in force. Selling the queen's eggs and killing her entire swarm had set back their growth, even with Tower nearby providing free meat for his pets.

Lee pulled over the truck and left the engine running as we entered the last stretch of paved road into Prescott. The city was replaced completely, a wall of shining black composite rising in the distance, flooding the night sky with lights from within. Behind it all the space elevator hung massive, a cable to the heavens.

“We’re getting close,” Lee said, raising an oversized taser. “I’m supposed to deliver you unconscious, so I’m hoping this does the trick.”

“Hold on,” I said, raising my hand. “Let me adjust the suit first.”

He nodded and I turned to the windshield. “Starfish suit,” I said. The cartoon appeared on the hood of the car, bent over to peer in at me.

“Hello user!” the cartoon exclaimed, waving a pudgy hand at me.

“Will an electric shock render me unconscious?” I asked.

“Yes! But I will immediately awaken you, user!” it explained.

“Can you pause that function for a single time?” I asked.

The cartoon starfish shrugged. “Sure, user. The next time you are shocked, I will not help you regain consciousness.”

“Okay, thank you,” I said. I turned back to Lee and nodded.

“You’re a good man, Tyson. Good hunting,” Lee said. Then he jammed the device into the side of my neck and sparks jolted through me. My entire body clenched for an instant, before blackness took me.

Chapter 51

I awoke to the sound of gravel crunching, and the harsh bark of the hobbs’ language. The deep growl of an orc cut through in English. “Enough! Get him secured!”

Rough hands grabbed at me, lifting me to my feet. Another jolt of electricity coursed through my back, and I shouted in pain. A hobb wielding a cattle prod jammed it into my spine again and I grit my teeth against the agony. My muscles clenching on my bones hurt worse than the damn cattle prod.

Someone tugged on my cuffs, and I fell into step behind them. The night around me was still, the only noise coming from my captors, a Dearth mercenary squad spread out in the sand. We approached a convoy on the road, and I got a good sense of just how many there were.

Lee’s truck was nowhere in sight, thankfully. He had dumped me on the side of the road, unconscious and restrained, and left. I really hoped they paid him too, we needed those morties.

I was dragged unceremoniously to a vehicle, in the middle of a convoy. There were twelve of the armored personnel carriers, each with a flak repeater focused on me. Six hovercraft buzzed high in the sky above us, illuminating the area with heavy flood lights. There were over a hundred mercenaries present to capture me, and I smiled in spite of myself. I blinked against the harsh lights and entered the larger vehicle they lead me to.

“Where are his gloves?” a harsh, but familiar voice grunted nearby.

“Valued Garthrust, is that you?” I asked, customer service voice firmly in place. “It’s very sweet of you to come pick me up yourself, I didn’t even know we had an appointment.” I was shoved roughly into a form-fitting seat, where deployed straps wrapped around my torso, shoulders, and legs.

A snarl emanated from the front of the vehicle, and a solid armor-plated door slid open. Garthrust’s face appeared, his lower jaw replaced entirely by heavy metal plating. “Yes,” he growled, metal tinging his voice. “An appointment.”

I flexed against the restraints, subtly. They had more give than it felt like they should have, but they were firm, and I would be hard pressed to get out of the chair quickly. It had clearly been designed to restrain someone with artificially enhanced strength.

“You didn’t have to go to all this fuss,” I said, nodding my chin to the still open door, and the roar of military activity outside. “For you, I’d have come when called.” I smiled deeply at him, making sure the smile didn’t reach my eyes.

“Where is your MortBlock?” Garthrust growled, glaring at me over his blocky, metal jaw.

“Oh, have you checked your butthole?” I asked in a helpful tone, leaning forward in my seat with genuine interest.

Garthrust’s green darkened and his forehead screwed up in rage. “Shoot him!” the orc screamed.

My guard stepped in the vehicle to obey. The slag round he fired at me sunk directly in between my ribs and splashed against the inside of my shoulder plate. It seared and burned as I grit my teeth and tried to contain my reaction.

The scream I tried to avoid ripped out of me anyway, and Garthrust’s metal jaw creaked into a smile. “Again!” he roared.

The next round snapped a rib and poured out of the wound, searing my stomach and burning away part of my shirt.

My cartoon appeared in the seat opposite me, struggling against the restraints. “Damage detected user!” it said, as my suit’s tendrils deployed.

“Grab it!” Garthrust yelled. He’d clearly been watching footage of my battles. “Grab one of the tentacles!”

The guard hesitated but reached forward. Beneath his black helmet, I could tell it was another human by the shape of him. He reached a hand forward and I shook my head.

“I wouldn’t threaten it, if I were you,” I coughed, around the blood seeping up my throat with every breath. The suit’s painkiller kicked in and I rode it out. I was getting used to the sensation of a punctured lung, and just waited for the tendrils I could already feel getting to work inside.

A chunk of rib ground up in the turbine and ejected in a thin stream of jelly onto the guard, who flinched away. He sneered behind his balaclava and wiped at the goo on his breastplate. Tendrils deployed to grab the new rib portion from the central turbine, transporting the small piece of bone to where it was needed. More tiny tendrils waved around, fixing the burns on my stomach.

“Grab it!” roared Garthrust.

The guard lunged forward and gripped one of the tendrils. The suit reacted immediately, wrapping around him and severing his hand at the wrist with a quick sawing sound.

The chunk of meat wrapped in a tactical glove slapped when it hit the floor, and I shook my head.

“Warned you,” I said.

A heavy gun deployed from the ceiling in front of me and a targeting laser activated, shining on the turbine in my chest.

“I wouldn’t do that either, Valued Garthrust,” I said, patronizingly.

The gun fired a single round, which ricocheted from the starfish suit and splashed through the hapless, maimed guard. Garthrust cursed and closed his armored hatch as the round bounced and blasted around the room a few more times before it stopped, lodged in the armored glass between our compartments

The vehicle roared into movement, and I heard the rumble of several other members of the convoy falling in.

The longer truck I was in had a smooth ride, and once my repairs were complete, I watched my cartoon starfish dancing against the restraints in the other seat. Garthrust’s door slid open again, and his glaring eyes were visible in the slit. “You will give me that MortBlock, human,” he spat.

I chuckled and started singing, “have you checked your butthole, ski-bap, ba-dop, butthole.” Garthrust roared and slammed the hatch, leaving me alone for the rest of the journey into what Prescott had become.

The armored window in the door was tinted, but I could see plenty through it on our short trip. We entered Prescott at midnight on the seventh day of BuyMort, through a large, weaponized gate that looked like it was made of black plastic blocks. Most of the Dearth structures did, and there were a lot of them.

Prescott itself was gone. The buildings, roads, parks, bridges, and people all paved over in shining black plastic. As I stared at it and pondered the nature of the building materials, a BuyMort ad popped up to grab my attention.

Are you trying to get buildings built in a hurry? Well look no further than The Dearth Conglomerate pre-built building builds, for building!

The advertisement featured a very beautiful human woman, in makeup and a skimpy dress, who stared and read off-screen cue cards in a halting monotone. It also highlighted the building brick features, while showing fast-paced construction of a building, layers of thick glass and black brick slapping into place to create the structure.

I swiped it away with my eyes.

It was a type of plastic, actually. Hardened and reinforced with additives made from raw Sleem, the end result was equivalent to reinforced concrete. Dearth was our best customer, we’d helped them re-build Prescott. Well, they shipped most of this crap in, we just helped them restock their shelves.

To our south-east, the mountain I had cleansed of yarsps earlier in the day was visible, as was a massive warehouse of different construction. It was crafted of tall, solid white walls with the BuyMort emblem emblazoned on each side. Dearth had built a small fortress around the structure, their many buildings tiny by comparison.

A great red line was painted in the dirt all around the structure, denoting a safe distance, and securing it with a towering fence. Beyond that was the primary bulk of Dearth’s military forces. The fenced off base housed several barracks and hangars, most of which stood empty. Defensive towers were built of the black plastic blocks, not just facing out toward the greater city, but in toward the BuyMort structure as well.

Streams of pods floated in and out of the giant warehouse through portals, and I could just imagine Tower in there, happily feeding his yarspies and waiting for me to come back and talk to him. First, I would have to deal with the enemy that had transformed a major Arizona city into a spaceport inside of a week.

The matte-black pre-built buildings were everywhere, serving the many landing fields and oversized hangars that had been installed. Everywhere I saw Dearth mercenaries in their matching armor sets, patrolling or securing areas of import. They stood at the entry to almost every structure and owned the roads and airways in their APCS, tanks, and hovercraft.

A singular structure stood out, taking up most of the physical space in Prescott by itself. The space elevator rose massive into the sky, blotting out the city behind it entirely. Where I had thought it a cable before, I saw now that it was made of a series of massive rings, linked by heavy reinforcing structures. On the inside, the movement of great cargo platforms was visible as they ascended and descended the elevator.

Locked into the base sat the massive donut shaped ship I had seen descend it. Vehicles in lines approached it from every direction, vying to ship their cargo loads into orbit. The area around the space elevator was clear of all structures, but had several roads and airspace routes in. The elevator was a bustling platform for trade, plopped right in the middle of my desert.

I had never wanted anything more, and Valued Garthrust was driving me right up to it.

We passed through the city easily, only stopping briefly at Dearth checkpoints. I heard the harsh bark of the hobbs language, and the occasional word in Orkreshi.

If I made it through this, I was going to have to do something about learning some new languages.

Since the turret hadn’t worked against my suit, the gun barrel no longer pointed at my chest, and no other guard had entered to deal with me. I checked on the guard on the floor, but they had bled out shortly after the turret round blasted through their chest. The armor plating was shredded.

A building stood out against the skyline as we drove, shining in the moonlight. The skyscraper was the tallest thing in the area, with the exception of the space elevator it sat nestled in the shadow of. This building had been crafted from the same black brick material, but it was wrapped in chrome plating and mirrored windows. I liked it the moment I saw it.

We arrived in a basement garage of the giant building and were immediately greeted by another unit of mercenaries. This one was led by an unusual Nah’gh woman, wearing a red silk power suit that perfectly matched her scales. She had vibrant yellow eyes and tiny horns jutted from her forehead. Small spikes rose from her scales, down the backs of her arms and spine, all the way to a wicked spike-tipped tail she kept draped around her elbow.

She waited amid a cluster of heavily armed mercenaries, lightly swinging her wicked tail tip around her forearm as she stared at the incoming truck. The vehicle slid to a stop with my window directly facing her.

“Venerable Garthrust,” the Nah’gh woman sneered. “I thought I warned you about using my men without my direct written permission.”

Chapter 52

The front doors slid open, and my captor hopped down from the cabin with a heavy, metal clank. “You are not my superior, Rova,” Garthrust retorted.

Rova hissed angrily and rose up higher on her tail. “Oh but I am, orc! This fighting force obeys my will! Not yours! I’m issuing a general command not to follow your orders anymore, the courtesy extended to you by Dearth has been over-stepped.”

My door opened and Rova’s head whipped around to stare at me, her vibrant eyes narrowing when I smiled at her.

Her tongue flicked out and back in, and she grimaced. “And you brought him here?!” she shrieked. The gathered mercenaries shifted uncomfortably and looked anywhere but at the orc and Nah’gh they worked for.

Garthrust raised a hand and clamped it shut, the oversized metal fingers clicking in the Nah’ghs face. Her eyes widened and she reared back, her barbed tail raised above her head, weaving back and forth mildly.

“Shut your mouth, Rova. There are morties to be made here, allow me to use your holding cells, and I will share the take, as is right and profitable for us both,” the orc growled.

Rova’s eyes narrowed and whipped between me and Garthrust. She hesitated a moment, before turning to her guards. “Secure the prisoner,” she snapped. The Nah’gh woman turned and slithered to a nearby secure door, which pinged before opening for her.

A sizable mordren approached the vehicle and leaned his upper half inside. With a beefy arm, he unlatched my seat restraints and then leaned back out. “Are you going to make me drag you?” the mordren rumbled.

“I’m thinking,” I said. The mordren ducked to glare at me and I stood, raising my arms defensively. I exited the vehicle, manacled hands before me, and took in my surroundings as the mordren changed my cuffs, one wrist at a time.

Behind the mordren were dozens of Dearth mercenaries, of varying races. Plenty of human faces stood in the crowd among hobb, orc, and Nah’gh. None of them seemed happy to be there, and at least one of them was glaring at me with open hatred. I’d killed lots of their buddies. When I tested my new cuffs, there was no give in the joints.

I flashed the gathered crowd a toothy smile, making sure it didn’t reach my eyes as I walked into the giant building’s basement. The structure was built with mordrens in mind. High ceilings and broad hallways were the norm, sterile matte black broken by doors, windows, and decorated with corporate posters and safety lighting.

We walked past an armory that caught my attention, and I leaned to look with eyebrows raised. The mordren hit me from behind, hard, with something long and broad. It felt like he bashed me with a tree trunk.

I turned to glare at him, and his tail lashed out again, slamming into me and pressing me to the wall. The humanoid reptile leaned in close over his tail and growled in my face, showing off impressive metal capped teeth.

“You are not a tourist, human. Walk. Or I rip your limbs off.”

“Good luck with that,” I quipped back.

He dropped me, and reared back with a huge, clawed hand. I stood and glared up at him, daring the blow to fall.

Garthrust appeared at the mordren’s side and intervened. “Get him to holding, quickly. No delays.”

“Yeah, he needs my mortblock,” I said, smiling.

“Shut up!” Garthrust hissed.

He reached back and I saw his hand clearly for the first time. It was metal, entirely. Composed of three thick metal fingers, his new hand folded perfectly to form a solid slab of metal. Exposed pistons deployed with a sharp hiss, and the power-fist connected with my cheek.

Dazzling white stars exploded in my vision, and I crumpled. Tendrils squirmed in my chest toward my head as I fell into the mordren’s waiting arms. He carried me down to my holding cell, not even flinching as brain matter was ejected from my turbine. I awoke fully as the door slammed closed. This time, the starfish suit hadn’t even rendered me unconscious. Guess I didn’t need that part of my brain to at least partially function.

The cell was made from a much shinier version of the building-block material the rest of the star port had been built from, like chromed steel mixed with plastic. Still, it held up when I pressed against it. The only hope I had for escape now was my atomic breaker gauntlets.

“It’s designed to hold people like you,” Garthrust crowed. He’d been watching me and appeared happy to explain my predicament. “Even if you had two strength shots, you’d be unable to bash your way out.” The orc stepped up to my door. His body had been mangled, plain metal replacing the parts I had broken. Jagged metal teeth showed in his mouth, coupling with two jutting tusks to emulate the lines his old jaw housed, if only just. He clenched the heavy, metal fist at his side. “Can’t punch your way out of this one.”

“Wanna bet?” I asked, a tiny smile in the corner of my mouth.

Garthrust narrowed his eyes and glared at me, metal jaw clamped shut. “Wargshit. If you could, you’d have broken those cuffs by now and attacked me.”

I sighed and shook my head sadly. “So little trust.”

Rova entered the room. She slithered up to the door and glanced at her mordren guard. “Is he secure?”

The mordren shrugged. He was significantly bulkier than Drusk, and his scales looked harder, stronger. “I couldn’t break out of those restraints.”

“Then I doubt he can either, thank you Breach. You may go,” the Nah’gh woman said.

Breach nodded, glared at me, and left the room.

Garthrust pressed a button, and the room came alive. Blue and green light emitted from the ceiling of my cell in grids and ran across me along with everything else in the spartan cell.

“Look!” Garthrust hissed. He stood over a console lifted from the floor and pointed, as Rova slid into place behind him.

Her yellow eyes narrowed, and she pressed the same button. Light scanned me in grids again, and I chuckled as she drew in a quick inhalation.

“Now you see it,” Garthrust crowed. “Our defeat here has not been my fault, we faced a relic.” The orc grit his metal teeth and glared at me across the panel.

Rova hissed and crossed her arms. “Oh a relic,” she mocked. “Every wounded mercenary claims they faced a relic, a simple scan failure is no evidence of a relic.”

“This is no simple scan!” Garthrust replied. “This is the best scanning system the church offers.”

Rova stared at the orc, her lips pursed as she stared at me over his shoulder. I smiled at her and stretched my cuffed arms up and over my head.

“Hey, can you guys grab me a drink or something? Tea, coffee, lemonade . . . tequila would be nice. Any old thing really. Getting parched in here.”

“Ignore him, he talks endlessly,” Garthrust rumbled. He pressed another button on the console and robotic arms extended from the wall at my side. “Watch, Rova,” he said.

One thin, metal arm shot out and gripped my finger. It clenched down and cut deeply into the tissue, tearing through muscle and veins as it severed my finger from my hand, leaving only a tip of the starfish suit’s metal. I roared at the sudden pain, but the suit sent its painkiller rushing through me an instant later.

Tendrils erupted from my arm, sliding out from beneath the thin metal plates. One of them wrapped around the machine arm extending from the wall and sawed it neatly off, as others got to work undoing its damage.

Metal fell to the floor as the arm was surgically dissembled by my suit. Then it got to work restringing my ligature and closing the gap between my veins with careful blasts of flesh-foam. Finally, a thin laser seared the area closed and I raised the finger to show them both, and the cameras I had no doubt were everywhere.

“The device our men have been reporting, that’s ruined your reputation entirely, you now claim is a relic,” Rova said, eyes slit. “Suspicious, Garthrust, I don’t know if the Wizard will buy it.”

“That manipulator arm was made of graphened titanium, Rova. His suit snapped it like a hobb!” Garthrust insisted.

She glanced between Garthrust, the screen, and me.

“How does it work?” Rova asked me. She was interested now, ignoring Garthrust again.

“Come on in and I’ll show you,” I said, with a wink. Rova was genuinely cute, and while I was completely happy with Molls, I hoped that flirting with the new Nah’gh would enrage her into a stupid mistake.

Her yellow eyes widened, and she flicked out her tongue. Her body rose in height, and her tiny horns glinted in the overhead lighting. “Answer me, human, and I may send you to Storage, instead of our incinerator.”

I raised my arms above me, pushing out the muscles in my chest and armpits as I leaned on the doorway and made strong eye contact with Rova. “Ask me again, in here, and I’ll answer you honestly.”

Rova slithered up to the door and stared at me, face to face. She flickered her tongue out and in, grimacing at the scent.

“You stink of her,” she eventually said. “Why would I respond to the advances of one clearly enslaved to a conda sex doll?”

“See, I told you they were together,” Garthrust said, still staring at the console in front of him.

“We weren’t then, you green-skinned dolt. If anything, you drove her into my arms,” I said, over Rova’s shoulder. I dropped my gaze to her and smiled. “And you should ask the conda, she’ll give you a few reasons to respond to my advances.”

I winked again and blew Rova a small kiss.

Her tail rose and the blade tip came to rest on her shoulder, just inside her jacket’s shoulder pads. As I watched it, the bone tip rose and wavered, before surging forward.

Blackness engulfed me.

I awoke a few seconds later, strapped down on the metal slab of bed in my cell. The suit tendril that had just replaced my eye, and the chunk of brain behind it, finished lasering my new cornea in place and retracted.

The straps across my chest were broad, and thick. They extended from the wall to the lip of the bed, not touching me, but effectively keeping me from moving.

“See?” Rova said, from over Garthrust’s shoulder. “You merely lack the creativity to use one of these cells correctly.”

“Yes, fine, you bested me. Do you see though? As I said, it does not let him die.” Garthrust pointed a green skinned finger at me, and I groaned. “The relic ensures he cannot be killed.”

“Sure I can. You guys just haven’t figured out how yet,” I said. My hands were still restrained by the cuffs, and I wondered if I could just injure myself on them to get the suit to intervene. It seemed to go on the attack if something stopped it from its function.

Rova interrupted me by entering my cell. Her tail barb whipped through the air and sunk into several of my vital organs. She stabbed me in the heart, liver, both lungs, and even my throat.

Then she stood with her arms crossed and watched the suit repair all the damage. Bits of shredded organ erupted from the turbine, and my cartoon starfish chose that moment to appear.

It was behind Rova, on Garthrusts console, gyrating its hips directly in the orc’s face. “Charge getting depleted, user. Keep an eye on that!” It danced a few more moves before vanishing with a flourish, and I gurgled while the suit repaired my trachea.

“What about limbs?” Rova muttered. Her tail barb rose over her shoulder and waved gently side to side. “Can’t we remove his limbs to get at the underside of the suit?”

Garthrust narrowed his eyes and stuck out his metal chin. Rova glanced back at him and sighed.

“Cell. Provide me with a broad-bream plasma cutter,” she said. A panel in the ceiling slid open and a thin metal arm extended to offer her a hand-held tool with a shining metal nozzle. I closed my eyes and grit my teeth, waiting to ride the rush of painkiller.

She took the device and fiddled with a few settings before bringing it to life with a crackle of sound and heat. My left foot incinerated.

I was glad for the effective nature of the tool, it crisped my flesh and bones to ash in seconds, the pain was surprisingly minimal, and I managed to keep my pain quiet, only groaning behind my sealed lips instead of screaming.

New body parts erupted from the suit in a cloud of activity. Arms wielding bits of bone and lengths of specially molded ligature got to work slapping them in place while flesh foam and lasers filled the air.

Rova watched it all with open fascination. “Our scanners can learn nothing from this? Even when it opens?”

Garthrust shook his head. “No, we can read nothing. It presents as a void, even consuming the measuring beam.”

“What happens if I burn away his entire body?” asked Rova, in a light tone. Her head was cocked to the side, and she was staring down at me, genuinely curious.

“The suit rebuilds me,” I answered. “But I don’t know what will happen to you, if you try. The suit responds to any threat direct enough, that may be enough to cause it to rip you apart like it did your fancy room.

I glanced at the chunk of wall still missing its severed parts.

Rova glanced at me, then slithered backwards out of the room. “Cell,” she said, “kill the prisoner.”

The wall at my side exploded into movement and I blacked out.

Chapter 53

When I came to, my cartoon starfish was gyrating in the corner, by the door. The walls and ceiling around me were torn apart and coated in sticky blood. Bits of metal lay all over the floor, and on my still-destroyed body.

“Sorry user, no more charge! Break something, break something!” It said, dancing furiously. The lower my charge got, the more irritating my suit’s communications method became.

I tried to roll and couldn’t. My arms worked, but my legs and hips did not. My body worked from the waist up, and not at all below that. I propped myself up on my elbows and took stock.

The room was destroyed. Several appendages had emerged from the wall at my side in an attempt to follow Rova’s order and kill me. The mechanical arms were shredded, torn apart into little bits, and scattered around the room. My suit’s tendrils had been busy, but so had the killer holding cell.

My legs were torn meat. Deep lacerations oozed slow moving blood, and bone was visible through several of the worst tears. My torso was similarly ruined, major wounds spread out all over it. The room and my suit had a fight, with me as the tug-of-war rope between the two. A slippery pink coil of intestine poking from my side let me know I had even been eviscerated. Again.

I raised both arms in concern, but they were mostly intact, in spite of the restraints having been pried open. A few gashes and lacerations graced my forearms and hands, but I could feel my crystal colonies were primarily intact.

“Break something user! Hurry and break something!” the cartoon insisted. This time it was wearing oversized shining metal gauntlets over its upper appendages, and shadow boxing. “Summon your breakers and break something!”

I ignored it and focused on suppressing the residual pain.

“How long did that take?” I croaked.

A few seconds of silence passed before Garthrust said, “See? Relic.”

Rova nodded, slowly, still staring at the cell. She took a shaking breath and released it before shrugging. “I’ll inform the Wizard. He’ll want to see this, get your prisoner.”

“What? No!” Garthrust exclaimed. “I already brought you in. There is no need to inform the Wizard! We will extract his mortblock and give that to the Wizard, but this treasure is for us!”

Rova shook her head, the shining tips of her horns catching the light. “You must be even less intelligent than I thought, Garthrust. The Wizard is the primary mortblock holder, you think you can slip a relic out from beneath his nose? A relic that originated on his property?”

“Technically,” I said, raising one hand weakly and extending its finger. “The relic originated on my property. I still own the mortblock.” I laughed weakly and coughed, tasting blood. “And you’ll never find it.”

Rova hissed and her tail came up again, the bone barb at the end waggling. “Your land is a fly-speck, human. We will take it when it becomes convenient to do so, mortblock or not.”

She produced a flat plastic item from her pocket and raised it to the side of her head as she turned to leave. The Nah’gh woman slithered to the back of the room and pressed her thumb to a section of the wall there. It slid open, revealing a comfortable looking elevator.

Rova slipped into the elevator and turned to wait for the doors to close. As they were sliding closed, she said, “wake the Wizard, the relic is real and in our possession. He’ll want to see it.”

The doors closed with a light metallic ping.

“Who’s the Wizard?” I croaked to Garthrust.

“The last human face you’ll ever see, Nu-Earthling,” he replied idly, fiddling with his console. When he was finished with it, he placed his own phone at the bottom and held it there for a few seconds. As soon as he pocketed the device, his metal jaw twisted into a smile, and he approached my cell.

Garthrust was not a gentle captor, which he displayed by grabbing the back of my neck and hauling me out of the cell’s bed. My legs flopped onto the floor, fresh blood from the wounds splashing Garthrust’s legs.

“Ha-ha!” I exclaimed. “Got you dirty.”

“Shut up!” Garthrust roared, shaking me by the neck.

I fought against the black encroaching in my vision and focused on the dancing starfish cartoon on Garthrust’s console.

“Break something user, break something! Hurry! The suit is running out of charge fast and won’t be able to replace anymore of your internal fluids unless you break something! Break something, user, break something!”

I wanted to, in that moment, but held back. The gauntlets were still there, hidden beneath my skin, and my hands were free, but I held back. Instead, I sang “we’re off to see the Wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Dearth.”

“Shut up!” Garthrust roared again, his voice breaking into a squeal at the end. He dragged my limp body into the elevator with him, holding me by the back of the neck in his power glove.

“I don’t know how!” I snapped back, before coughing up a mouthful of blood onto the nice clean elevator floor.

I strained my neck to look around. From the waist down, the elevator was pure luxury. Veins of silver run through marble made up the walls, with a mirror sheen that let me see the rest. The buttons were all burnished ivory, with hand painted symbols on each. We were going up, to the top floor.

When the doors slid open, the room Garthrust dragged me into was something out of corporate wet dreams. Leather covered every seat, and gentle foliage adorned the sleek, dark, wood-paneled walls. A room length window brought in gentle evening moonlight and showed the sprawling city below.

At the far end of a lengthy block of obsidian in use as a board room conference table, sat the Wizard. He was human, old, and wore a long white beard under spectacles. The pajama robe he wore had dramatically flared cuffs, but otherwise came across as classic business chic. Onyx black with dull silver pinstripes. Even his fuzzy slippers had silver tipped pompoms.

He stood with the aid of an ornate cane, leaning to look at me as Garthrust dragged my limp form into the room. The cane’s head appeared to be etched crystal of some sort, and twisting dark wood composed the shaft.

At his side was Rova, her mordren bodyguard Breach, and someone new. An elf, wearing a rifle and two long-barreled handguns. Her spiked ears gave away her elfin nature, but she looked nothing like the delves in my basement.

The pale, sallow elf wore forest green leather pants and a matching long sleeved top. It was form-fitting, and accommodated armored plating, as well as holsters and hanging ammunition for her weapons. The Wizard may have been interested in me, but the elf was watching me for any threat. Her gaze was clinical, trained.

She also clearly wore an active shield, the gem glowing at her neckline.

I hung limply, holding a hand over my wounded belly to hold in my guts. Garthrust tossed me onto the obsidian slab, and I rolled gracelessly off it onto the floor, with a clatter of expensive office chairs.

“That wasn’t my fault, my legs don’t work,” I groaned from the floor.

“Oh Garthrust, you make such a mess again,” the Wizard said. “So much blood.”

Rova hissed at the orc with the metal fist. Her tail rose over her shoulder. “Idiot. Leave the human, bring me your console results,” she spat at him.

“Speak to the church with more respect, serpent,” he shot back, stomping toward the platform.

“You are not the church, Garthrust,” the Wizard croaked. He was still peering at me and spoke distractedly. “I have known the church for longer than you have drawn breath. You’re just the most recent priest working for Dearth. Just like any of my other tools, I can have you replaced.”

I groaned and rolled my chest to better compress my gut wound. My hands were starting to lose some sensation and I couldn’t trust them to keep my midsection from bleeding any longer.

“He appears to be dying now, I thought the relic made him impossible to kill,” the Wizard said.

“It appears to have a charging system, and we’ve exhausted it,” Rova informed him.

“How does it recharge?” he asked.

“Unknown at the moment,” Rova said. “If he could charge it, he would, look at him.”

“Yeah, look at me, rolling around in my own guts.” I flopped again, getting my upper half pointed in the direction I needed to crawl. “Aren’t you guys proud?”

“Flippant creature, isn’t he? No chance of recruitment, I suppose?” the Wizard asked.

“This is the human that has been defying our expansion, sir,” the elf leaned in and whispered.

“Oh, that deviant? I hear he’s mated with a conda,” the Wizard said. “Fascinating, I should like to interview him.”

“You guys made that up about me!” I grunted. I shrugged from my blood-slick on the floor. “I totally am now, though. It was a great idea too, you should try it some time.” The encroaching darkness was fighting me to come back again, and the cartoon starfish was furiously flossing on the obsidian slab, insisting that I break anything at all. I ignored it.

“Shut your mouth!” Garthrust roared. He slammed his fist down on the obsidian slab and sprayed spittle at me over the conference table.

A web of small cracks emitted from the metal fist’s blow, and the Wizard squealed indignantly. “Garthust!” he whined. “You’re such a slob, stop breaking things.”

The elf at the Wizard’s side clenched, glaring at me. It was like she knew what I was about to do. When I rose up on one fist, she drew one of her sidearms.

“Yeah, Valued Garthrust,” I said, flopping down onto the marble tiled floor with a gristly splash. I activated my BuyMort tab with my eyes and approved the mercenary contract Phyllis had set up for me. Funds deducted, and the message “pod dispatched” flashed across my vision.

“Quit breaking stuff, you silly slob.” I finished my statement with a faint, but high-pitched giggle.

The orc finally snapped. He roared and raised both fists over his head. Spittle flew from his lips, and he stomped toward me. The elf looked away, drawn to his display.

I took that instant to summon my gauntlets and slam my fist into the window.

Chapter 54

An explosion of blue light and shattering tempered glass filled the room. My gauntlets hummed, absorbing the residual energy in the air, as hundreds of tendrils sprouted from my suit.

Garthrust pounded toward me, all green skinned fury and metal enhancements. His power fist cycled up, its pistons locked into ready position. I smiled and stood as my spine got a replacement part slapped into place.

Tendrils swarmed around me, effecting repairs. I raised a fist to protect my head from the side as I turned to meet Garthrust’s charge. The elf pinged shots off from it, trying to shoot me from across the room.

Garthrust roared and swung his power fist as he closed the last few steps. I met it with my gauntlet, activating my power blow ability and sending the orc backward into the wall at speed. He smashed against the armored wall and bounced onto the obsidian conference table, leaving an oversized dark green bloodstain behind.

He did not rise again. The impact had crushed the back of his skull, and he lay in open mouthed shock, eyes wide and staring up at nothing.

A tiny bolt of plasma spattered through my stomach, followed closely by two more. I dropped and let the suit go to work. It had plenty of charge, thanks to breaking the window and then Garthrust, and the wounds were tiny.

“What is he doing, stop him!” shouted the Wizard.

My BuyMort pod arrived then, floating in through the floor to ceiling gap where the window used to be. It warped in Phyllis, who had a surprised look on her face, and Doofus in her arms.

“Doof!” I exalted.

The dog was wearing a new harness made of white composite material that extended down his spine and tail. I took a second to wonder where my dog kept getting morties to buy himself new stuff. He’d gotten a third of the bounty before, but there was no way that had been enough to cover all of the things he kept showing up with.

His shield was already active, and he bristled as he took in the room. A rain of plasma fire poured in around us, most of it striking Phyllis. The elf was firing with both weapons, as she stepped in front of the Wizard.

“He leapt on me when the pod arrived, I didn’t mean to bring him!” Phyllis shouted over the weapons fire.

Doofus barked, once, and sent the elf through the wall behind them. It appeared to be made of real wood, and she splintered through it as she vanished, her shield absorbing some of the blow.

Phyllis turned around and grinned at me, her bald head mostly healed. She had her customary joint between her lips and nodded at me as her gun arm began to form.

The mordren slammed into her, and they tumbled into the wall behind us. The radio brick Rayna had sent with Phyllis spun into a corner.

“Phyllis!” I yelled, standing up.

“Oh don’t worry about me, dearie. I’ve been looking forward to this rematch!” she said, her voice mechanically altered.

“Rematch?” I muttered. She was thinking of Drusk. I shook my head and shouted, “yeah, get him Phill! Fuck him up!” No reason to tell her about our spider ranchers at this point.

Besides, the Wizard himself was fixated on me. The night wind swirled his pajama robes dramatically and I laughed as I faced him fully.

“Wizard, huh? What if I told you there’s no such thing as magic?” I asked.

The old man frowned deeply and blinked. “From someone who punches people’s windows, I’d call it the ravings of the mad,” he said, before adding, “Lightning bolt!” and blasting me with a bolt of electricity from his staff.

I bounced against the wall and came to a stop with my head and right arm dangling out of the open window. My heart thumped wildly, and I felt tendrils moving toward it. I braced for the pain, but the suit was already generous with the painkiller.

“Damage detected user, hold on. This might be rough,” said my cartoon starfish, an instant before the suit ripped my heart out. There was a moment of gut-wrenching loss in the middle of my chest, and then the suit slapped in the new model. I groaned and sat up as my new heart came online with a thud, blood and charred muscle tissue ejecting from the turbine.

The Wizard peered at me, still holding his raised, glowing cane.

“Rova,” he started. When the Nah’gh at his side looked over and nodded, he gestured behind himself with a thumb. “Fetch Shilara, won’t you? And while you’re back there, bring me my spellbook?”

The Nah’gh woman lowered her yellow eyes and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

She turned and slithered to a door in the wall behind them, before slamming it closed.

Doofus stepped out from under the table and barked at the man, sending a wave of reinforced sonic force tearing through the conference chairs at him. He merely waved his cane, and the sonic blast dissipated in a flash of brilliant pink light, scattering glass in a tinkle of sound.

The Wizard was encased in a ball of brilliant pink light, which burned or turned away the glass before any could reach him. “Imagine a multiverse without magic, how deviant. I was right about you, young man. You’re unworthy of that relic you wear. Give it here,” he said. His tone struck me, he seemed to genuinely expect me to do his bidding.

“Oh okay, sure thing,” I groaned, getting up from the floor.

He blinked in surprise and raised his cane again.

I held both arms in front of myself, shielding my bare chest and exposed head.

“Fireball!” the Wizard shouted. I braced myself.

Flame and force struck my gauntlets and exploded. The fireball encompassed Phyllis and the struggling mordren too, and they broke loose from each other momentarily.

I lowered my gauntlets and sneered at the Wizard, while fire crackled and burned around me. The suit went to work, and I charged.

Doofus barked again, from under the conference table at the Wizards side. His shield dissipated the sonic blast, and he turned to glare at Doofus.

I charged, rushing to stop the attack on my dog I knew was coming, but Breach grabbed my leg and I slammed onto the tile.

My burnt skin came loose in the mordrens grip, and he roared in pain when Phyllis grabbed his tail and hauled him back. My suit sprayed flesh foam and the room glowed with moonlight. The painkiller in my system revved up a notch.

The larger combatants behind me began trading blows and grappling up close to control Phyllis’ weapon arm, so I turned to deal with my own foe.

“Lightning bolt!” shouted the Wizard, and he blasted under the table with one. Doofus yelped and I heard his paws scrambling as he ran. He appeared on the far side of the room from beneath the conference table, his shield active and glowing.

The tip of the Wizard’s cane glowed with intense light, and faint wisps of smoke rose from it.

“Wizard!” I roared, rushing to the table. He turned to face me, and I slammed my fist into the obsidian slab’s side, activating my power blow ability.

The heavy stone table blew apart into high velocity shards, all flying at the Wizard.

The old man stood at the window’s edge, his long beard whipping in the wind as his shield flared dozens of times. I kept running, following the shards of obsidian as they flew, my fist raised.

He swore under his breath and started to raise the cane at me again, but I slammed my fist into his shield, using my last power blow ability and activating the breaker gauntlet at the same time.

Blue light erupted between us, followed by another burst of vibrant pink. I was blown back by the explosion of pink light and bounced off the same wall Garthrust had hit.

My increased strength saved me from his fate, and I landed on my feet with a laugh. “Sic em, Doof!”

My dog raised his head to bark, but a blast of plasma struck his shield from the splintered wooden wall behind us. He turned and blasted the wooden wall with another sonic blast. Shilara, the elf in green leather, spun through the air over the blast and landed gracefully, both weapons raised.

The Wizard was doing something to his cane, flexing his fingers at the glass orb atop it like a jellyfish. Light pulsed and grew from the center, and I felt the air tingling.

“Doofus, with me!” I shouted.

The dog scrambled back as the Wizard shouted, “Wall of force!” and waved his hand at the center of the room.

A shimmering wall of warped light popped into existence and separated us from the Wizard and his elf.

Waves in the light between us, like heat on the blacktop, were all that showed the wall, but it extended out the broken window several feet. The elf Shilara holstered her weapons, light and cold vapor emitting from the holsters. She never took her eye off me.

The Wizard frowned, staring over my shoulder at the scuffling mech and mordren.

“Hmm. Deal with them, Breach,” he said casually. Rova appeared from behind the wooden wall, carrying a large book with gems set in the cover. “Ah, my book, excellent. I’ll show you magic now, young man.”

“Go help granny, Doof,” I said. My attention was captured by Garthrust’s body. He had flopped again when I destroyed the obsidian conference table, something small and square tumbling just out of his robe’s inner pockets. A mortblock.

I ran over and grabbed the block. The standard message of an ownerless mortblock arose in my BuyMort interface and I happily clicked yes when it asked if I would like to claim it. Vast swathes of desert surrounding Silken Sands and spreading west lit up on my BuyMort interface’s map. A triangle of land spread from Yuma in the south all the way to Lake Mead in the north, with only my stubborn tumor of resistance to mar it.

Garthrust had owned roughly a fifth of Arizona, including a tiny sliver of Prescott itself, which suddenly belonged to me. I grinned and pocketed the mortblock.

The elevator door behind me pinged, and I sighed as I turned to face the squad of Dearth mercenaries arriving. Six of them had crammed into the luxurious elevator car, and they piled out in two rows, weapons raised. They were orcs, all wearing a silvered version of the typical black Dearth armor.

They didn’t bother shouting for surrender, they just opened fire. Doofus’ shield lit up as he took fire, and several slag rounds sunk into me. They were ready for me this time and aimed at my legs.

Partially molten rounds tore away muscle tissue, cracked and burned bone, and filled the room with the smell of my burning flesh.

I crumpled to the ground.

Chapter 55

Doofus barked, and half the alien mercenaries ran as the other half bounced against the walls. Their armor let out a hollow mechanical sound as they hit, and each of them was back on their feet as they landed, seemingly unharmed.

A fireball seared through the air between us, striking the Wizards invisible wall and exploding in a wave of heat and light. Breach roared and stomped on the mech’s arm, pinning it while he tried to claw into the smoking helmet and get to Phyllis.

Doofus leapt past with a harsh snarl, latching onto one of the mercenaries and dragging him to the ground. The others turned and began firing on my dog. His shield lit up as he tore into the mercenary on the ground, using his teeth to find the weaknesses in the armors neck.

I roared in pain and raised myself onto my fists. With a few quick motions, I dragged my body to the line of firing mercenaries and started grabbing at their limbs. I squeezed and crushed, using my fists to hammer their chest plates and helmets as they went down. None of them were enhanced with extra strength. I was.

Within seconds, the squad was dead. Doofus and I were covered in green blood, and he glanced at me as my legs healed and I worked to stand.

A button of light appeared on the ground, and he said, “Pack!” Another button appeared next to it, and he hit them both in quick succession. “I love my pack!”

Then he turned and barked at the mordren, Breach. He and Phyllis were still grappling, and Doofus’ sonic blast rocked the mordren from his position atop the mech but did not dislodge him.

Breach’s claws extended, screaming against the thick metal of Phyliss’ armor, and he bared his teeth at me over his shoulder.

“Give it up, Breach. I already have Garthrust’s mortblock. Arizona will be mine, and if you stop trying to hurt my friends, there may be a place for you here,” I growled, crouching low.

“Oh, end this, Breach. Get me that slob’s mortblock back, won’t you?” the Wizard said from the other side of his barrier. “I told the Nu-Earth board not to trust him with one.”

The Wizard sounded more annoyed than upset, and I spared him a glance. He was seated in one of the remaining conference chairs, pajama covered legs crossed and gently bouncing.

Flames appeared behind the mordren’s teeth, and Breach turned to suddenly breath fire down on Phyllis’ head. The suit’s metal quickly began to glow, first orange than bright red. She tried to raise her weapon arm, but he had it locked in place with diamond hard claws and massive physical strength.

Doofus latched onto his tail, snarling and growling as his teeth punched between scales and into the mordren’s flesh. Breach roared in pain, washing the ceiling with flames, and flicked his powerful tail, hard.

Doofus sailed out the floor to ceiling window with a yelp, immediately vanishing from sight.

“NO!” I screamed, my hands clamping into fists. I leapt over the tail’s return and slammed into Breach around the waist. He caught me, bracing a leg against the wall and snarling into my face from above.

“You killed my dog,” I growled, feeling his modified strength bearing down on me. I let go with my left hand, and he immediately sunk his claws into my back. “I’m going to feed your corpse to my Sleem.”

I slammed my left hand into the mordren’s groin, activating my gauntlets atomic breaker ability. Blue light flashed from between us, and Breach’s overwhelming grip suddenly loosened. He wheezed and pushed us apart, reptilian face dropping to his crotch.

His groin, most of both thighs, and a significant portion of his hipbones fell away as dust. My gauntlets hummed and illuminated the grey coils of intestine as they pushed free. Breach grabbed at his guts and fell backwards.

Breach died with a gurgle, his official cause of death likely massive blood loss, along with internal organ loss. Most of them looked like they were on the floor between his legs. I idly thought, “I’d survive that, easy,” as I looked.

The Wizard was on his feet and flipping through his oversized, sparkling book. Light and swirls of puffy cloud emanated from it, and it floated open, in front of the Wizard, and his remaining entourage.

In the mess between the dead mordren’s legs sat another mortblock. I smiled and reached down for it, wiping some goo off and raising it to show the Wizard.

“You implanted your Mortblock in your bodyguard?” he gaped at Rova. Then, the old man blinked and frowned. “How on earth can you refresh it that way, check his colon?”

“No, I had him swallow it as a precaution when this one was brought in,” she said, her tail pointing at me. “I smelled trouble,” she growled.

“Ahh, yes, that makes more sense.” The Wizard turned and made a face at Shilara behind him. I grinned at the elf as her eye widened. He’d given away who held his mortblock too, and she now knew it. She gripped her long barreled rifle close, its chrome finish shining in the moonlight.

The mortblock spun up in my vision and when I claimed it, it filled in the rest of southern Arizona, and a small chunk of the territory formerly known as Mexico. It came to a point in the city, providing Rova with a significantly larger chunk of Prescott than Garthrust had.

Most of Arizona remained, along with a little chunk of Utah, and about sixty-five percent of Prescott itself, the thriving space port at the foot of the planets only space elevator. The Wizard owned the rest of it, and his elf bodyguard held the mortblock.

I tried to focus, but the sound Doofus had made when he fell went through my head again and I choked.

Tears forced their way out of my eyes. My hands clenched into fists and started shaking, as red clouded my vision. I didn’t even notice the tendrils working to repair my mutilated back. The elevator’s second arrival, filled with more Dearth troopers to kill, didn’t even warrant my full attention.

I merely slammed one fist into the door as I stalked past it. The doors blasted inward, flattening, and shredding the occupants before cutting through the other side of the car and wedging it in place.

Doofus had fallen. I had to kill the Wizard. Take his mortblock, make sure this was all worth something. I had to stop him from killing any more of my friends. Molls entered my mind again, her warm, writhing body wrapped around mine, and her beautiful eyes hovering above me as we sweat in motion together.

I cooled. The Nah’gh, sallow elf, and pajama bedecked Wizard on the other side of a supposedly magical barrier of nothing simply made me laugh. They were absurd. This was the power that had taken so much from me? In that moment, they looked like nothing but absurd clowns, waiting for me to punish them.

BuyMort popped up, and I quickly sunk in a few keywords. Anti-magic Helmet, to be specific. All this idiot had was expensive toys. I could afford those too, thanks to the bounty Dearth had paid me.

A series of options floated by me, and I almost started scrolling through them. It had given me an option directly up front that cost all of my morties, somewhere north of three hundred million.

But I knew what I was about to do, and how much Dearth was about to pay me for it. So I took the most expensive option, which of course came with immediate shipping. A portal opened at my side with the now familiar fart smell of Tower’s unwashed body, and the flesh-tape factory the pod had come from.

A box warped in, and the pod remained. I tore the flesh-tape free and tossed it out the window, to flutter, a stinking butterfly over Prescott’s corpse.

The ‘helmet’ was a cloud of energy stored inside a box made of light. I passed my hands through the walls of the box, and the cloud of ‘magic’ absorbed into my palms. The BuyMort pod beamed out the containment box, before vanishing in a puff of burnt ozone.

At a thought, the helmet manifested. It oozed from my skin in rivulets of silver, which rapidly condensed, in the familiar form of my mirrored helmet. I concentrated, and a pair of striated horns rose from the pool of reflective metal.

“Phyllis?” I roared, my voice mechanically enhanced. “Are you alive?”

The mech sat upright, still smoking, and glowing orange with heat. I guess Breach had been significantly further along the path of the dragon than Drusk had managed to get. I wondered briefly if he would want to breathe fire too, before the image of my dog sailing out the window took back my mind by force.

“They killed Doofus!” I shouted, tears rolling out of my eyes to be absorbed by the helmet.

“Take down that wall!”

The old woman didn’t say anything. She trembled as she stood upright, the ceiling tiles warping and melting with the heat from her war machine. The mech set its feet, reached its gun arm forward, bracing it with the other, and opened fire.

Basketball sized blasts of red plasma hit the wall of invisible force at my side, over and over again. More machinery clamped into place behind me, and the balls of plasma changed color. Green waves of heat and force washed over the invisible wall, and it began to shrink with each blow.

Black smoke billowed, the air became scorched and hard to breathe, and my body on the side of the plasma strikes began to scorch. Phyllis was keeping them away, but everywhere was too hot on this side of the wall. I was not only taking down his wall, I was also building a nice little pocket of hell to unleash on them, full of brimstone and pain.

“There is no such thing as magic, old man!” I shouted. “And I’m going to show you that.” Thick, black smoke filled the air around me and blocked me from sight. But my vision was alive with light and clarity, thanks to my new ‘magic’ helmet. It looked and acted like an energetic nanite swarm to me, but until I could get it to Axle, I wouldn’t get a run down.

The book floating in front of him looked different, through the helmet. The world itself was mostly normal vision, I wouldn’t even know I had the thing on without the strange little additions to my vision.

A few items in the room stood out, as I ignored the waves of heat from Phyllis’ blaster. Glowed, even through obstructing items. The Wizard’s cane glowed particularly bright, primarily at the tip. A handful of small rings in his pocket also glowed. The book was a beacon of light, each letter on each page and jewel embossed in the cover had its own shade and glowed brightly.

In the light of the glow was a set of symbols, meant to look like magic runes, but suspiciously grouped like programming language.

Phyllis hit the wall with another green ball of plasma, and it collapsed entirely. Rova fell backwards with a scream as heat and black smoke washed through the other side of the room. She slithered quickly back and away, vanishing from sight.

The Wizard held his ground, a bubble of pink shielding around him flaring and sparking from the sudden rush. He could see me clearly, with glowing, ‘magically’ coded spectacles.

“Acid splash!” the Wizard shouted, waving at a page on the spellbook. A ball of liquid formed out of the air, rushing toward me. My helmet flashed, and a wave of energy blasted through it. The liquid splashed harmlessly around me as I strode toward the elf.

“Lightning bolt!” he shouted, waving at another page. A bolt of lightning arced in the open window and struck the helmet, bouncing harmlessly between the horns. I could only imagine how Axle would explain the atomic interplay between our high tech items, and smiled as I walked calmly past the Wizard, my gauntlets raised in front of me.

“Gust!” he shouted. A strong wind buffeted all around me, knocking chairs over and scattering them out the gaping window. It did nothing to me, my helmet negating his ability.

“Stop playing with nanotech, Wizard, before I hurt you,” I said, turning the mirrored surface to face him as I ignored weapons fire from the elf, Shilara. He visibly paled and stepped back from the spell book.

Shilara’s tiny packets of plasma pinged and ricocheted from my gauntlets and helmet, causing small damage notifications to appear. The interface of the helmet made them appear as bursts of red light in my vision, an almost direct mock-up of my previous helmet’s heads-up-display, just flavored with a fantasy theme.

Rova darted in from the boiling smoke around us, her tail barb stabbing rapidly, over, and over. I ignored her, the suit would handle it for me. A cloud of painkiller and fresh ‘magic’ lighting from my helmet made the darkened room glow, and the destruction around me almost seemed pretty.

Her tail rapidly plunged into my vital organs, over and over as tendrils deployed. They caught the end of her tail and sawed it clear with a harsh buzzing sound, and Rova fell away to the side, screaming and clutching at her mutilated tail. The last few inches had been truncated, and thick, white spine showed through the torn meat.

Shilara darted backward through the flaming remains of the wooden wall as a bolt of plasma scorched the space she had just inhabited. Phyllis was looking for targets in the smoke.

I stepped in front of the Wizard and plucked his spellbook from mid-air. He stabbed forward with his cane, and pink bolts of energy flew free as he shouted, “Magic missile!”

My helmet identified the forming energy in his cane and produced a counter pulse for each, dissolving each burst of energy before it could strike me.

“Lightning bolt!” he shouted, desperation in his eyes.

The helmet read the orb on his cane and redirected the channel of electrical energy it fired at me, causing it to blast harmlessly against the wall at my back.

I stepped forward and swatted the cane, sending it skittering through the smoke across the room to Phyllis. With his own spellbook, I shoved him into a high-backed leather chair.

Chapter 56

“Your expensive toys don’t make you divine, Wizard, and there’s no such thing as magic.” I removed his spectacles and tossed them across the room with his cane. The spellbook followed. After that, I fished the magic rings from his pocket and tossed them aside as well. Nothing else glowed on him, so I assumed him disarmed.

“Hey Phill!” I shouted. “Keep an eye on the magic asshole. I’ve got an elf to kill.”

Her gun arm locked the plasma blade weapon form in place and fired it up, the blade jutting through the tile floor and pouring more smoke into the room as I left.

The wooden wall had hidden a private residence, spread out around the top floor. It was in ruins, so I picked a gaping hole with flames licking around its edges and hopped through.

Shilara opened fire on me with both sidearms, aiming for my legs. The first few bolts seared through my legs before I dropped, covering behind my gauntlets until she holstered her weapons and ran.

A lush living quarters spread out in front of me, clearly the Wizard’s personal lounge. Expensive bottles of alien hooch even sat in a crystal cart on golden wheels. I clenched a fist and smashed it, to the delight of the little cartoon starfish in my head who tells me what to do.

Rova slammed into me from behind, her tail coiling around me as her strong arms wrapped around my throat and squeezed. She meant to kill me without breaking my skin, to keep the suit at bay.

I stuck my metal encased fingers in my own side and tore them free, spraying the Nah’gh woman with blood. The suit erupted tendrils to repair the damage, and she immediately let go. My gauntlet closed around her arm as she fled, and I crushed down as hard as I could, expecting the bone to break. It didn’t, and she slammed her fangs onto my chest, hard.

She didn’t have teeth like Molls, hers were two hard daggers that injected scalding venom.

I grimaced, and then roared in pain as the suit went to work, fixing me internally. Her venom burned, and the suit tearing out pieces of me to keep ahead of it didn’t help with the pain. I twisted, and Rova pulled back. She was nearly as strong as I was, clearly infused with multiple stat shots.

So I activated the suits final breaker ability and watched as her arm fell free from her body, dust and blood mixing immediately in her elbow socket. Rova stared in horror at the missing limb, and gripped what remained of her arm, drawing in a long, ragged breath to scream with.

After the gut wrenching scream of loss and terror left her, she glared at me, still gripping her arm. “You-you’ve mutilated me!” she screamed.

The elf was gone. She’d let Rova distract me and hidden somewhere in the residence.

“Shall I kill you too, Rova?” I asked, leaning in to stare at her with my mask. “Or will you give me what I want? Call Shilara out here, now.”

“Shil!” Rova screamed, slumping against the wall, and clutching at her bleeding stump. “Shil, help me!” Her voice faltered toward the end.

Something flashed by the window with bright orange wings, catching my attention momentarily. I braced for attack, but the object did not return. It had been small, far too small to be a vehicle.

“Shilara!” Rova cried, her voice weakening.

I turned away and stalked through the lounge. “Shilara,” I taunted. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Before I got too far into the upscale apartment, I stopped and growled. “Come out and face me, now, or I go kill your boss.”

She appeared, as if from nothing, at my side and slammed a magically sharp sword through my stomach, right under the lines of my suit. It hit the suit on the other side of my spine and ricocheted out of her hands. The familiar looking weapon spun into the wall and hung, exposed hilt vibrating.

I fell as my legs and torso stopped communicating, but I had a grip on the elf’s leg, and clamped down. She drew both pistols and began rapid firing into me from above. The suit began fixing me, and she adjusted her aim to ensure no tendrils came near her, firing pin-prick after pin-prick of scalding plasma through my torso, hips, and legs.

Still, I held her leg in my grasp. I roared in pain, riding wave after wave of painkiller. My cartoon starfish appeared to make its usual demands, so I slammed the heel of my fist into the floor. Cracks spiderwebbed from the impact and the cartoon began to dance in joy.

I tried to crush the elf’s bones, but again my enhanced strength was countered. She set herself and when I tried to haul her feet out from beneath her, she merely kicked me in the face for it and resumed firing.

She knew how to kill me, but the suit was keeping up with the damage. The elf with her carefully destructive aim kept my spine from healing, and I began to feel the encroaching dark of my physical limits. Once I lost consciousness, it would be over.

With a grunt of exertion, I reared back on my belly and slugged the elf in the side of the knee as hard as I could. It popped, a gristly, tearing sound, and Shilara screamed in sudden agony.

Her balance shifted expertly to her other limb, and she yanked the wounded leg free from me with another scream of pain. Her weapons went back into their holsters, cooling vapor humming from the metal covers, and she produced an ampule from one of her many small pockets.

With a grunt of pain, she slammed the ampule into her knee and screamed as it began to repair itself. The limb straightened violently with another hollow, wet, pop. Shilara kept her balance on one leg as her other limb shook out before taking weight.

I watched, dumbfounded. It somehow felt like cheating when they did it to me. My new spine piece popped into place, and I carefully climbed to my feet from a pool of my own gore. The suit rapidly sewed my belly closed with lasers, as dozens of other tendrils worked to fix the pin-pricks of plasma that had punched through my lower back and legs.

Shilara dropped back and drew two knives with falcon-beak curves. I was breathing heavily, and torn up already, so I stood and threw my arms wide as she struck. She dove in and stabbed with both blades, sinking one into my heart, and the other my lung several times. I gasped and choked, but slammed my arms closed around her and squeezed.

She slammed her forehead into my mask, carefully aiming between the horns. So I told the mask to grow a new one with a thought, as she headbutt me again. A small gasp emitted from the elf woman, and she went still. The helmet retracted the small spike, and I let her fall to the ground.

The mortblock was in a small pouch at the small of her back. When I activated it, the entire state lit up on my map. I owned Arizona, and a fraction of the areas around it.

Dearth’s space elevator was mine, all the way up to the orbital station it was docked into. An arrangement of heavy docking ports at the top flashed in red to indicate a coverage boundary, but the entirety of the elevator and space-port it was attached to were mine.

The coverage of my new mortblock system included everything except the tiny dot that was Silken Sands and extended below ground in several places. The Arms Keepers militia mining facility was one, and it extended deeper below ground than even Silken Sands. Even the building I stood in was nearly as deep as it was tall.

I snapped out of it as my suit finished repairing my body and the painkiller began to fade. Phyllis was screaming, suddenly. I raced back into the board room, shoving the mortblock into my pocket with the rest, and stopped dead.

The Wizard had Phyllis and her mech held against the wall, his hand sparking with power. As soon as I got close enough, he grabbed me with his other hand, and electricity flowed through my body freely. Too late, my helmet showed me the glowing nails on his thumbs.

A hidden, implanted weapon that incapacitated both me and Phyllis. I rocked back, my teeth grit together by involuntary muscle spasms that one of them cracked, and a corner fell loose. The electricity flowed through me, stopping my heart, lungs, and all ability to function. My anti-magic helmet flickered and fluctuated, unable to counter the energy now that it had made contact.

The Wizard had us, his arms extended, one enemy helpless in either hand. A dog barked from outside the window, and the paralyzing shocking power of the Wizards hands was suddenly torn free. He flew backwards and slammed into the wall, tumbling onto the tile in a heap.

Doofus glided in the window on bright orange hard-light glider wings, that extended from his new harness. As he landed in the rubble of the destroyed conference room, his triangular wings sparked and fizzled as they faded out.

The dog raced across the room and leapt into my arms, licking my soot covered face as I clutched him and wept into my helmet. Doofus was alive. Alive and full of tricks, with expensive toys of his own. A frown crossed my features as I wondered where the hell he was getting all his morties, but then I just clutched him to myself.

“Good boy, Doofus,” I rasped, my throat constricted. “Good, handsome, smart boy.”

Epilogue – An Arizona Warlord Arises

I stood from the rubble surrounding me and dealt with the Wizard next. Doofus got off me to go check on his granny Phill, so I went and pried off the Wizard’s thumbnails.

It was mildly troubling, he woke up in the middle of the first to scream really high pitched, and then passed out again part way through the second. I told my helmet to seek any further inactive magic items on the Wizard and it reported he was clean.

I staggered over to the radio Phyllis had brought with her, hoping it was still in working order. The old thing looked about as tough as a brick too, and when I depressed the ‘talk’ button, it activated with a quick crackle of static.

“Rayna?” I wheezed.

“Yeah boss?” she replied instantly. I sagged in relief and started laughing.

“I did it Rayna, I got the blocks. Arizona is ours,” I said, relief and physical strain evident in my voice.

“Moving into Prescott,” she replied.

Of course. No time to celebrate. We owned the mortblock, but Dearth still had plenty of mercs in the area.

I staggered back to the Wizard and slapped him awake. He moaned and held his bleeding thumbs aloft.

“Yeah, I know, I’m the worst,” I said. “Tell me how I can talk to all of Prescott, right now, or I’ll throw you out the window.”

He nodded, shakily, and pointed to the wall further in the room. I grabbed him by his sparkly pajama robe and dragged the Wizard to his feet. We walked down to the wooden partition, where he turned and pressed a bleeding thumb gingerly to the wall.

A light scanned his print and a chunk of the wall slid down to expose a screen in the wall. The Wizard gingerly pressed a few buttons and stepped away as the screen came to life. “It’s broadcasting to all Dearth on Nu-Earth,” he whimpered.

I told my helmet to lose the horns, and they melted back into the chrome mirrored surface. “Dearth Conglomerate armed forces. This is Tyson Dawes, of Silken Sands. I hold the mortblock for this city, this space port, this elevator. If you do exactly as I say, none of you need die. BlueCleave hobbs are coming. Let them in, lay down your arms, and you will be allowed to leave, or integrate into our affiliate, if you have no loyalty to Dearth.”

I shifted my footing. “To the non-armed Dearth employees, and regular travelers using the port.” I could hear my own voice being echoed on larger screens in the city below, broadcast from every Dearth speaker in the city simultaneously. “Please, feel free to leave. Or stay. BlueCleave will not harm anyone who does not attempt to harm them, and the change in management does not mean Prescott has closed for business. Please forgive our mess while we facilitate necessary security measures during this time.”

Finally, I lowered my head and closed my eyes. “To the Dearth Nu-Earth board. I have the elevator. You may use it as normal, for a modest percentage on each shipment, and a small fee upfront. To buy my forgiveness, and the lives of your remaining Arizona board members. Ten billion, directly to my account, in the next sixty seconds, or I sell the elevator to BuyMort.”

I pressed the button that closed the screen and turned to look at the Wizard. The man was curled up on his side, holding his thumbs in close to his chest and shivering.

“Been a while since you felt pain, I’m guessing,” I said. I willed the helmet away, and it slid back into my pores, exposing my face to the man again.

“Why?” he whined, fresh tears pouring out of his eyes. “Why my thumbs?”

I glared at him, metal encased fist clenched. As I stared at him, I realized he was genuinely confused. Maybe nobody had ever stood up to him before. I was tempted to slap him again, but there was no point. No amount of shock could awaken someone with his perspective to the horrors of what was done in his name.

“To stop you from hurting my friends,” I finally answered. “You should be asking me why Dearth hasn’t paid yet.”

The Wizard went pale again, and he looked up at me from the floor, clutching his wounded thumbs. “What are you going to do to me?” he breathily asked.

“Let you and Rova go, assuming she’s still alive. I took your mortblocks, that’s all I needed here.” I stopped and glanced at my BuyMort hud again, checking the time. “Unless Dearth doesn’t pay the bounty, of course.”

As the timer I had set clicked to fifteen seconds remaining, a sudden account transfer hit, and my available morties spun up. Massively up. Ten billion morties.

The Wizard used a BuyMort beam to leave, with Rova. She was unconscious, barely breathing, but alive. He expressed a desire to bring the bodies of Breach and Shilara, the high-end bodyguards that had failed him, but was dissuaded by a simple shake of my head.

When the pod arrived and flared its rainbow beam on the ground for him to walk into, he hesitated and looked over his shoulder at me. Rova dangled in his arms, her eyes flickering open briefly.

“Leave, before I change my mind,” I growled.

The Wizard left. He walked into the beam, carrying Rova, and the two of them vanished, before the BuyMort pod whistled its happy tune and floated out the window

Phyllis and Doofus were fine, though she scolded him for scaring us. “You should have told us you could fly, Doofy baby, we thought we lost you.” The oversized dog panted and licked her bald head.

Rayna and the army of BlueCleave hobbs entered Prescott shortly after, from multiple angles.  They encountered some light resistance, but most of the Dearth mercenaries got out after my announcement. The rest surrendered and the city became truly mine within hours. Rayna proved an honest and loyal companion, giving me back my own mortblock the instant she arrived, and I happily combined it with my new plot of land.

Over the remainder of the morning, BlueCleave took Prescott entirely. Many of the ships at port left, only a few stayed. Axle assured me they would be back. It wasn’t easy, or cheap to set up a port the size of Prescott. He told me with a sigh that it wouldn’t be easy to run one either.

The news, which Axle turned on for me to see, was in a frenzy over the situation. They kept showing high altitude and low orbit screengrabs of the elevator I now controlled, with the floating chiron; “Local Warlord foists Dearth, steals integral space elevator.” They also kept showing my announcement to the city, which had been recorded and uploaded to several outlets.

I never meant to be a warlord. I just wanted to protect my life, and my friends. Becoming a warlord was what that cost, so in that moment, as the news focused intensely on my chrome helmet, and the threat to Dearth that I represented, I embraced it. I was the Warlord of Arizona, with eyes on a greater kingdom yet. All of Earth was my next mortblock ownership goal.

As dawn rose on the seventh day of BuyMort, I was in control of the entire state of Arizona, along with some minor surrounding territories. Lake Mead, the Grand Canyon, part of Mexico even. Turns out, Dearth didn’t really respect our lines on the map, when divvying up our world, any more than they had respected our lives.

Rayna, Tollya, Phyllis, Doofus, and Axle all stood with me at the top of my new skyscraper and looked out the shattered window over Prescott. We had work to do.

The End.

AUTHORS’ NOTE

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Coming soon in the

BuyMort Universe

BuyMort Book 4

It’d been a month since the defeat of Dearth in Arizona. The Silken Sands Nu-Earth Campaign, they called it right up there on the multiversal TV.

They say everyone gets their 15 minutes of fame. If so, that was it there. Glamorized video and images of me punching tanks, exploding slimes, and even one of me freaking out and running hard, bleeding and gasping, while a gigantic, tentacle-waving cockroach chased after me down the hill.

Phyllis loved that clip. She even found a way to get her suit to save it so she could play it back whenever she needed a chuckle.

And there was the montage of me punching out the windows on Mr. Sada’s truck. He’d uploaded them from his MortMobile device, to a church-run social media app.

RIP, the poor bastard, his shit immortalized across the for-profit news networks and information affiliates that proliferated through the BuyMort multiverse.

I was apparently quite the star. A plucky doomed go-getter, Tracy Mills from NewsCom Multiversal Incorporated called me. But most of the rest called me The Windowpuncher, Warlord of Arizona.

There was even a song about me. Done in “Nu-Earth Style” or so the artist said. Sounded like garbage to me.

But like it or not, my mirrored helmet and I were all over the media and, to be honest, it helped out Silken Sands a lot.

We’d gone to war with Dearth, their remaining local branch anyway, escalating to real war after my seizure of their space elevator. Bad thing was that they had a lot of money. Good thing was that the many pay grades worth of bureaucrats above them didn’t give a damn.

I was fighting with a local chapter, not the whole multiversal corporation.

And on my side were the hobbs, tens of thousands of them swarming to my cause from Storage, proficient with every weapon we could give them.

Nu-Earth humans too. From all over the continent, those who could, did. I made a point of looking for survivors to rehome, and by that point I was the only Nu-Earth native affiliate with balls left in the game as far as I could tell.

Everyone started setting up more communities, adding their own bits of production to the affiliate. Helping out the war cause too. Prescott became more than just a space port, it became a Nu-Earth trade capital. A hub of humanity, and hobbs.

BuyMort even leveled me up. Got a bunch of company perks, a minor portaling license and personal access to set up a firm in Storage itself.

Every major affiliate needed one eventually.

And The Church of BuyMort, well, they tried to send me a new church representative after all the dust had settled. But we stuck by Molls and let them know that we were well represented already. Our contract designated her as their representative, and Silken Sands was unable to process any church requests through any other agent.

It meant exactly as little as their contract with us had meant, which meant nobody dared recognize that fact. We had ourselves a cultural stalemate, controlling the narrative among their own population to reflect our relationship in a positive light.

Axle had a good laugh about that. Said that he’d never seen anyone get so cheeky with the church and even made a bet that she’d be reinstated within two months.

He was right. The morties mattered more than any other motivator, especially once they were coming from a slice of the space elevator and port.

That’d been a good time. We’d been drinking some, hanging out around a card table, playing on an other-dimensional VR system called Realer-than-life, 750,000 morties, 4.9 star.

Now here I was, surrounded by blasts of metal and flame, my hovercraft quaking like one of those insert-a-dollar shake beds in a Las Vegas brothel.

At the time, with the flak going off all around us, it seemed scary. And I was shit-my-pants scared. My brain was telling me that we were going down and I couldn't stop it from howling at me to break some windows and get ready for action.

After all, that'd worked so well in the past.

But it was fine. Just my ape brain not having any understanding of the physics involved in the choppy, halting flight.

You see, Jada, in her capacity as my military intelligence specialist, had employed good strategy, a modified Wild Weasel. It was something she’d picked up from Axle’s library, after Lee had submitted some content.

We purchased small flicker-shields, 300,000 morties apiece and 4.7 stars, to cover the hovercraft’s engine compartments. Then we just layered the bellies and cockpits, anything critical really, with physical armor and let the flak shred the rest of it. Easy and cheap repairs back home, with our stolen Dearth hangar facilities.

Plus the onboard computer mapped the enemy antiaircraft fire, where it originated from, and sent the coordinates back to Silken Sands for relay to the assault wave hobbs, for use in taking the wall.

When the flicker-shields engaged, a metal hatch slammed closed across the engine to protect it from flak, opening and closing dozens of times per second. Made for a hell of a bumpy ride.

The city itself was a sprawling disaster zone. Fires and dream storms had run unchecked for weeks as Dearth established a foothold in the only area of the city that mattered to them.

Long Beach.

There were roads, very similar to my own, covered in armor and protections that coursed through the ruins, but by and large the sprawling city of Los Angeles had been left to rot.

While the fleet of hovercraft that comprised my side of the LA assault wave flew over the rest of the city, I saw BuyMort bugs and Sleem roaming the streets freely. There were also clear survivor outposts, some fallen, some seemingly still intact.

I used my anti-magic helmet to take photographs of them for later confirmation.

The helmet was a pretty stock-standard nano-tech device, in spite of its ‘magic’ theatrics. It lived underneath my skin, which dramatically increased my pore health. When deployed, a shining chrome helmet would form around my head, protecting me from all but the most serious direct attacks.

Its specialty was negating other so-called magical effects, through malicious programming. Axle had run me through the specifics, but like any other item that called itself magic, it was just really high tech.

So when I took pictures, it stored them as ‘memory magic’ in an ethereal floating spell-book that only I could see. But it was a photo album, like any other electronic, data-based device could craft for me.

It just had a magic theme.

I had gotten so used to it that I no longer even noticed the theme, I just cared about the functions. Those photos could be shared over MortMobile, the psychic phone network that connected the BuyMort universe vocally, and via text.

I’d give them to Rayna and have some squads assigned anti-Sleem gear to come search for survivors. The more Nu-Earth humans I could save, the better. In the first few days of BuyMort, our numbers had dropped from nearly eight billion to just under nine-hundred million.

In the weeks since then, it had fallen even further. Less than half a billion of us remained, and just over a million of those were already in my state and under my care.

I wanted the rest.

My photography was interrupted as we approached Long Beach, and Dearth’s emplaced weapons opened up on us. Primarily it was flak cannons, as we used their stolen hovercraft, which they expected to be vulnerable to flak.

Thanks to Jada’s sound advice, Axle’s buying ability, and our hobb army’s work ethic, our entire fleet was equipped to surprise the enemy.

The Dearth Conglomerate had built another fortress of black plastic construction blocks, walling in the entire Long Beach area. All they cared about were the docks, everything else was underdeveloped, and appeared focused around dock worker’s needs. Gigantic ocean-faring ships that dwarfed the Jahre Viking dotted the coastline, lined up to deliver cargo.

My ships hovered over the defensive wall, six of the middle group of hovercraft deploying shielded hobbs on cables. They spread out to cover all of the Long Beach wall, and within seconds, the flak in the air was gone, replaced with heavy fighting all across the defensive structures.

The forward tip of our fleet, which was my ship and two others, went straight for the Dearth tower at the heart of their operation. These guys were predictable, just like the Sleem, and they always built a tower just like the one I had taken in Prescott to run their operations out of.

A penthouse with a meeting room on the top floor was what I was expecting, so the hovercraft moved into place high above the tower’s roof. I leaned out and leapt from the door of the craft, more than forty floors in the air.

Doofus, my giant malamute, leapt out at my side in perfect synchronization and plunged into a dive.

His bright orange hard light wings deployed, erupting from his battle harness with a shower of orange sparks. They caught the air and he glided faster toward the top floor. With a single bark, amplified by his sonic weapon, Doofus blasted out the floor to ceiling window that protected the penthouse just before I slammed into the roof with my atomic breaker gauntlets.

A huge chunk of the top floor vaporized in an explosion of blue light, and I slammed through the ceiling into the penthouse boardroom, cracking the tile with my landing. Doofus landed at the window and slid across the floor, his own personal shield protecting him from the fast moving glass shards that accompanied his arrival.

My starfish suit deployed thin metal tendrils, repairing any damage that crashing through the roof of a building had done to me, but I wasn’t worried about that anymore. In the month of time I’d had growing my crystalline colonies in relative peace, my body had become much stronger.

Axle rated my strength on the BuyMort standard stat shot system. Most wealthy people within BuyMort were able to purchase stat shots, nanorobotic body enhancements. The problem with them was that in order to grow stronger, or replace lost nanobots, one would have to purchase another stat shot, and they each cost billions.

Axle told me that there was even a rating system for those who were able to afford the shots. It all started at humanoid common which was 1 and represented a basic human, hobb, elf, or orc’s level of strength within natural variations.

I, with my exotic crystalline body enhancement, was ranked a five. My crystalline colonies were another relic from the Teslak Cooperative.

The source of my biggest personal strengths.

The microscopic crystalline entities not only improved my muscle tissue, eventually hardening it as well. It was more difficult to cut me, or break my bones, now that I had been enhanced for so long.

Nowadays, most of the wounds my starfish suit repaired were superficial.

But the board room was empty. At the far end, a BuyMort portal still stood open. The other side showed the space station overhead, a room up there filled with aliens and uniformed humans staring back at us, while stars twinkled through a massive viewscreen.

The owner of Los Angeles had run away, rather than face me and lose everything.

outside the walls too.”

The drone that had delivered Mr. Sada’s final gift to me turned around in the sky and began its journey back. I walked away as it began zapping out rubble, and the dead body I had left in the kitchen.

In the end, Mr. Sada himself earned the affiliate just over four thousand morties. His former mansion, once the rest of it was warped out from the nearby area, got us another three hundred thousand. The materials were scrapped, but someone would still build something with them. BuyMort bought the clay clone of Mr. Sada’s dead wife back for a neat forty-eight thousand morties, which helped a little.

We had even sold a few spider webs, from inside the house and shed. That reminded me to check in on Drusk when I got a few moments.

At least the fight had been sort of profitable. Nobody needed Mr. Sada’s house anymore, the space had been opened up to build something else on, and the affiliate had refilled its operational fund a little at the same time.

I looked through the information while I walked back to my house.

The action in the campground wasn’t quite finished, but I needed to be away from it all. I needed to be alone.

So of course as I walked up my driveway, I saw Molls and Therrize sitting in Cube’s room with the double doors open, clearly waiting for me.

Therrize was smiling openly, wrapped in Molls’ heated blanket. Molls was seated next to her, her coils resting in a wide-mouthed wicker chair. My blood ran cold as I saw the look on her face. She was smiling at me too, softly. Gentle, even when humiliating me.

I very nearly left my helmet on but thought about it as I approached. This was going to be rough, and the helmet was never the way to go with Molls. All it did was hurt her and make it more obvious to me that I was hiding from her.

No point doing that anymore. I removed the helmet and tucked it under one arm, as I stopped just outside the open doors and the snake women in egg-shaped wicker chairs.

Therrize stood, if the movement could be called that, and handed Molls the blanket with a quiet word of thanks. I glanced over my shoulder as a pod zipped up. The Nah’gh woman smiled warmly at Molls, grasped her hand briefly, and turned to point to an area near me, outside.

The pod obediently zipped over and opened its rainbow beam for her, and Therrize slithered up to me, a similarly gentle smile on her features. She reached out a hand and gently stroked my cheek.

“I understand now, sweety. So does she.” The woman leaned in and whispered, “Open minds lead to full hearts.” She winked one of her giant eyes at me and grinned. “And full beds.”

I smiled back, stiffly. “Thank you, I think.”

Therrize chuckled, shook her head, and slithered into the rainbow beam. Her usual fee had deducted itself from my account upon arrival, and a reminder to rate her service popped up when I glanced to check on it.

I hurriedly hit five stars and swiped it shut.

When I turned to face Molls, she was busy covering herself with the blanket. She was already wearing her heated robes, but I saw that she was more invested in covering her tail, which had become a vibrant shade of pink while Therrize and I spoke.

I flushed red, looking away.

“I, ah . . .” Molls blinked rapidly, her huge eyes flitting around the room. “I thought I would know what to say. I’m sorry.”

“I assume Cube was shouting?” I asked.

She looked up and met my gaze for an instant, smiling. “He was, yes. I’m sorry Tyson, I simply heard the commotion, and when I checked out my window I saw a Nah’gh and felt compelled to go and speak with her.”

Molls stopped speaking and swallowed hard. “I apologize for intruding.”

I flopped into the chair Therrize had recently abandoned. It was still warm and smelled good. “I honestly don’t care, Molls,” I sighed.

When she looked at me, eyes wide in confusion or possibly alarm, I waved a hand and continued. “Unintentional intrusion seems to be our dynamic.”

She giggled, her scales flushing pink again as a hand rose to her lips to cover her amusement. “I suppose you’re correct.”

“You were bound to find out,” I muttered. My eyes stuck to the mud-crete floor. I couldn’t focus on Molls, or the fact that she knew I had been dreaming about her, in intimate ways. It just didn’t matter anymore.

That was unimportant entirely compared to the thought that kept racing through my head. Finally, I vocalized it.

“I killed Mr. Sada,” I choked. The words came out ragged. There were tears, but something stopped them. Just as they started to burn my eyes, something in my chest twisted, and the feeling receded, replaced by crushing pressure.

Molls went yellow and stared at me. I could see the color change out of my peripheral vision.

“We’re saying the dream storm killed him, but it was me,” I said. The words just tumbled out.

The pink started flowing back into Molls’ scales. Instead of mixing with the already present, it seemed to push the pigmentation away, altering each scale on her body individually. “In certain, extreme situations . . . killing is actually in service to life and . . . and the exchange of value among equals.” her voice trailed off near the end. I could tell the words didn’t help or comfort her anymore.

She tasted the air and tucked further into her blanket. “I’m not your priest anymore, I’m sorry Tyson. I don’t know if I’m a priest at all.”

I looked up at her, the alarm failing to register. Just one more existential threat to doom us all.

“I am truly sorry. I sent in my rebuttal, with evidence. The priests’ council convened and suspended my robes pending investigation. All church association with Silken Sands will be revoked as soon as the complaint can be put through to the primary affiliate body.” She shrugged as she finished, blinking rapidly.

“They didn’t have to do it this way, and I tried to make it clear that a suspension would have devastating consequences. But it is within the council’s power to suspend your affiliate’s association, and I was informed in very clear language that they do not answer to me.” A large tear formed in one eye and she leaned forward to allow it to splash to the ground.

I grabbed my affiliate page out of thin air and did a quick sweep for the church tag in our associates. It was still present, and I sighed in relief.

“How long does that usually take?” I asked.

Molls shook her head. “No more than a day or two. Longer during busy times, like a new world’s first week.”

She went blank after she spoke, and I stared at her for a moment before whispering, “Not what you were expecting, I know.” I leaned back in the chair. It was really quite comfortable, with a padded cushion woven directly into the thin, but strong lacquered reeds the chair was constructed of.

“Are you heading home, then?” I asked, suddenly. The thought that she might leave had occurred to me, and I was surprised at how fearful the concept made me. Like I was about to lose something. Something important.

She grimaced. “My mother has sent a ship, yes, and insists on my return. I don’t intend to board it, though. I’m making a home here, and I want to stay.” The tall, pale Nah’gh woman looked at me and flushed deeper pink. “I want to stay near you.”

As soon as she said it, she huddled into her blankets and looked away, scales filled with vibrant pink color.

I smiled at her. “There’s something there, isn’t there?”

Molls turned carefully and faced me again, her eyes lidded. When she raised them to my face, she smiled again, faintly. “I have the same dreams,” she whispered. “Don’t be ashamed. I’m not. I’ll never be ashamed of wanting what I want.”

As she spoke, she stayed locked on my eyes, and I stared into hers. “This is a fucked-up morning, Molls.”

“This is a fucked-up world, Tyson,” she answered immediately. “What do you want from it?”

I stared at her for a long moment. A giant, sexy, alien snake woman from another world, possibly another universe. A source of stress, embarrassment, and constant thought. In spite of everything. “You, Molls. I want you.”

She reached a hand from beneath her blanket, and slowly extended it toward me. The scales on her skin were deep, swirling purple. When I took her hand in mine, the color sunk into the edges, where the other hard line of permanent color was.

A line of solid purple formed, creating a blended color between it and the band of red. She smiled at me, and the part of me that had been clenched since I awoke that day finally uncurled. I took my first full breath of the morning, and my mind focused on the future. There were many things to protect at Silken Sands, and that was more important than my feelings about what I had done in the name of protecting them.

With another warm smile, Molls squeezed my hand and let go. “We will talk more, later. Right now, I must return to bed, and you have something important to do, by the look of your Knowle assistant.” She nodded her chin toward the road.

Jada was stomping up the path, her club dangling from her hip and a large handgun gripped in one paw. It looked like the .40 cal from the other day.

More BuyMort bullshit coming my way. I sighed and faced her incoming figure.

Coming Soon!

About the Authors

Damien Hanson

Damien is a writer, a gamer and an educator. He lives in Gimpo-Si, South Korea with his wife and son. He likes to meet up with friends and roll dice whenever the opportunity presents itself and has authored several stories.

Check him out at:

https://www.amazon.com/Damien-Hanson/e/B083FFDRZW/

Joseph Phelps

In competitive or cooperative video games over thousands of logged hours, Joseph has always sought out unconventional gameplay and created his own fun.

He's the kind of gamer that ensures the ESRB cannot provide appropriate ratings for online games. It's this type of unusual and amusing gameplay that he brings to the LitRPG and GameLit genres, with wildly aggressive competitive and unconventional single player dynamics at the core of his storytelling. Join him and find out for yourself.

https://www.amazon.com/Joseph-Phelps/e/B07WZCJ39T/